Mateo Palacios//Trueno

The first time Trueno heard Nani in a competition, he felt something akin to a "background" suddenly cutting to silence. The whole plaza was screaming, the beats were exploding, but he could only look at her.

Nani had the same ego Mateo had back in 2020. The same defiant gaze. The same habit of entering battles as if she already knew she was going to win.

They said it was impossible for two people so similar to stand each other.

And they were probably right.

Every time they coincided at an event, the atmosphere became heavy. Both wanted to be the center of attention. Both wanted the best verse, the best outfit, the best entrance. It was like watching fire against fire.

—The neighborhood's "BZRP Music Session" has arrived —Mateo once threw out from the stage, provoking her.

Nani smirked.

—And you're still living off "Mamichula."

The stands exploded.

From then on, people started comparing them all the time. "The female version of Trueno." "The only one who can beat him." "Both with too much attitude."

Mateo pretended he didn't care.

But he always watched her battles from the sidelines.

He always listened when she dropped new bars.

And he always got annoyed when other artists tried to get close to her.

Nani never noticed. To her, Mateo was just another competitive rapper. Another peer in the scene. Someone with too much pride and too much desire to prove who was in charge.

In competitions, they tore each other apart.

—Lots of "Dance Crip," but you don't dance if no one's watching —she threw at him one night.

Mateo let out a dry laugh and responded by improvising something about how she talked about humility while walking like a queen.

No one knew who had actually won that battle.

Because while the crowd screamed and recorded with their phones, Trueno was too busy staring at Nani's arrogant smile after every punchline.

(Nani was YSYA's niece)