The Guitar Curse
Coco
SUMMARY: The skull guitar will never be held by another de la Cruz for as long as it still exists.
NOTES: Inspired by a picture drawn by demonoflight on tumblr.
WARNINGS: Maybe a few spoilers for the movie.
On an old bench in the plaza sat a boy wearing a blue shirt. He strummed a guitar and hummed the words to a song Miguel couldn't quite remember the name of. He didn't quite recognize the new face, but he looked friendly enough to approach.
"Hola," the Rivera greeted, "I'm Miguel. I don't think I've seen you around here before."
"Marco," the guitarist smiled, "My family and I just moved here from Mexico City actually."
Marco's family was so full of musicians that it was practically in his blood. His parents owned a music store where they both taught lessons and his older brother and sister were in college studying music. He had a cousin who wanted to star in musicals, one who was a songwriter, and another who played violin for an orchestra. He also had an uncle who was a mariachi that married a dancer. His grandfather was a conductor who married a cellist. His great-grandmother was a dancer who had a child with a musician she performed with.
His family had moved to Santa Cecelia because one of his other cousins was getting married there and they thought it was a nice town. The people were friendly and the streets were filled with the most beautiful art and music a person could ever see. It was also the home to one of the most famous musicians of all time and helped inspire other artist create some of their best works.
Marco came back to the plaza just like Miguel does every day and they spoke and played more.
"Your great-great-grandfather was Hector Rivera," Marco asked excitedly.
"Yeah," Miguel smiled.
"That's so cool! He's one of the greatest songwriters of all time. I want to be just like him someday, or at least write like he did. I don't think I'd want to become friends with someone like de la Cruz."
"Well then you're lucky to have become friends with a Rivera."
The two grinned and talked about their favorite songs for an hour.
As time went by the friendship between the two musicians grew. Marco was smart, charming, loved music, knew how to play the guitar, piano and sing, and was so nice to everybody he met. The Rivera family had fallen in love with him the day they were introduced, especially Abuelita Elena. The Riveras had welcomed Marco to their family with open arms.
Marco's family had become close to Miguel as well. They loved how sweet he was and his friendship with their youngest. The two teenagers would meet at the plaza everyday and sing, dance, and help each other write new music.
They were always so happy when they were together.
On a cool November evening, Marco and Miguel sat in the Rivera residence tuning their guitars. The pair had signed up to play a duet in the annual Dia de los Muertos talent show at the plaza. Miguel wore a red charro suit while Marco wore a matching one in blue. They still had a good amount of time before the show, so Miguel decided to introduce his ancestors to Marco.
"Marco, this is Tia Rosita, Papa Julio y Mama Coco, those two are Tios Oscar y Felipe, right there is Tia Victoria, and up there is Mama Imelda y Papa Hector."
"It's good to meet all of you," Marco smiled.
The offrenda looked similar to the way it always did. Photos carefully placed on the table next to food and drinks, marigold petals, etc. Socorro had asked Miguel to help her write a letter to their family, so to the left of Mama Coco's picture was a letter asking about what the Land of the Dead was like, questions about their favorite foods and colors, and if they liked the flowers on the offrenda. On the back was a hand drawn family photo in crayon.
However, the thing that caught Marco's eye the most was Hector's guitar. It had been removed from de la Cruz's tomb two years prior and rightfully given to the Riveras. Miguel loved it and only ever played it on special occasions, like on Dia de los Muertos when the whole family was celebrating together. He planned on playing it after the show actually.
Marco started in awe at the white guitar. "No creo que haber visto una guitarra tan hermosa en mi vida." There was a pause before the boy asked, "Can I hold it?"
Miguel was hesitant at first. He was the only person who ever played it and never really liked when anybody else even wanted to touch it. As much as hated to admit it, he once let his cousin Rosa hold it and strum a few strings, and the entire time he kept thinking, "Don't break it. Don't break it. Don't break it," until his cousin handed it back to him. But, Marco was his friend and an experienced musician. He treated his own guitar as if breaking it would literally kill him. He could trust him with Hector's guitar.
For a few seconds.
What could go wrong?
He took the guitar off its stand and handed to Marco. Marco held it in his hands like it was made of the most fragile glass. He felt connected to it. Without even thinking Marco strummed the guitar and Miguel had a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time.
The marigold petals glowed around them and Miguel immediately knew what had happened.
Somehow Marco had gotten the two of them cursed.
Please correct any Spanish that I might've screwed up. I am not as fluent as my dad and grandma and it would be way to awkward now to ask them how to say something in that language.
SPANISH: "No creo que haber visto una guitarra tan hermosa en mi vida."
ENGLISH: "I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful guitar in my life."
