Singing and dancing

I was traveling abroad. I had already visited London, Paris, and Barcelona. I was walking down the street of Madrid, when I heard a group singing what sounded like folksongs.

I didn’t know much Spanish, but for some reason, I could somewhat understand their songs. I looked from outside the window, and saw the group performing in some makeup recording station.

Suddenly, I felt the urge to go in. “Hola” I told the group after they finished their song. “Monica? Donde estabas?” One blonde girl asked.

“Why did she call me a girl’s name?” I asked myself, not wondering how I understood what she said. “Quien es Mon…” I said as I looked down, seeing my new frame. I felt like a woman, a Spanish woman. “Yo soy… soy Monica” I whispered. “Se me hizo tarde, un tío me distrajo. Pero ya estoy aquí, vale” I said talking about a guy that distracted me on my way here. The guy I was referring was me, the former me. “Pero he llegado para quedarme”  I said, not caring about my former life.