Victoria arrived off stage and was embraced by both of her grandparents, who were laughing in joy.

"Oh Victoria, mija, you were fantastic out there!" Imelda exclaimed as she pulled away from the hug. "You remind me a lot of myself, when I was younger."

"It's true," Héctor agreed, nodding. "You take a lot after your grandmother." He looked to his wife, and they both smiled at each other a bit.

Victoria smiled slightly. For such a long time, she had seen her grandmother go through so much pain because of her husband's disappearance – so to see the woman happy again was like a miracle, even if that meant that things would be a little awkward in the house now that her grandfather was back.

"Ahem," Miguel cleared his throat. "Remember the plan?"

"Oh, sorry," Victoria apologized as she gave the photo to her nephew, before she went off to the side, standing next to her father, aunt and uncles.

Imelda pulled out her petal as she approached Miguel. "Miguel, I give you my blessing," she began, as the petal glowed. "To go home…" She gestured to herself and Héctor. "To put up our photos, and to never—"

"—never play music again?" Miguel finished for her, looking slightly saddened as he anticipated the condition.

"To never… forget how much your family loves you," Imelda finished with a smile.

The petal surged as Miguel's facial expression brightened, touched.

Héctor stepped forward, placing a hand on Imelda's shoulder. "You're going home," he told the boy.

Suddenly, before the boy could reach out and touch the petal, a familiar voice cried out: "What a marvelous performance that was, if I do say so myself!"

Everyone gasped as they all turned to see Ernesto, who had a big smile on his face as he clasped his hands together. Miguel slowly backed away from the mariachi, while Dante crouched down and growled.

Imelda clenched her teeth in rage, putting the marigold petal away as she instinctively wrapped her arms around her grandson. "You burro," she hissed.

Ernesto put a hand up. "Calm yourself, Señora."

"Why are you here, Ernesto?" Héctor asked, standing by his grandson's side as he feared that his ex-friend was there for the boy because of the photo, along with the fact that the twelve year-old knew of his treachery. "If it's for the boy, then—"

"—I'm not here for the boy," Ernesto interrupted him. "Nor am I here for the photo." He brushed past his old friend, making his way towards Victoria. "I came here for the lovely angel."

"What?" the Riveras all asked in confusion.

Ernesto stepped closer towards Victoria, who backed up a little as her eyes widened. "I must say, Señorita, your singing was espectacular!" the mariachi complimented her. "Your voice is muy hermosa, like a goddess'."

"My voice is – what?" she stammered, bewildered by his compliments.

He took one of her hands into his and kissed it. "Perhaps, if you'd like, we could give the audience a bit of an encore." He winked at her, making a clicking noise with his teeth.

Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor at his offer, as she realized that he was trying to flirt with her. "Excuse me?"

"Is he doing what I think he's doing?" Óscar whispered to Felipe.

"I think so," his brother replied, his voice filled with revulsion.

Miguel nearly gagged at the scene in front of him, while Rosita was restraining Julio from pounding Ernesto's trasero into the ground. Imelda and Héctor were both utterly disgusted and confused at the same time.

"So, what do you say, cariño?" Ernesto asked, moving a little closer until his and Victoria's faces were only inches away. "Would you care to join me in another duet?"

Victoria shook her head, unable to believe that this was happening right now. "Another duet?" she scoffed. "What happened back there was hardly a duet at all!"

He chuckled at her comment. "Come on now – we were both singing the same song, weren't we? I believe it went like this…" He grabbed her arm, and began to kiss it upwards – in between kisses, he hummed, "Y aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona, no dejaré de quererte…"

"S-señor de la Cruz," Victoria stuttered, feeling her face heat up as he kissed up her arm. She scolded herself for enjoying it, but she couldn't help it – the feeling of his hot breath against her bones was just too much for her to ignore. "S-stop… aah…"

He continued kissing up her arm, until he reached her shoulders. "If you'd like, angelita," he whispered near the place where her ear would've been, had she not been as dead as he was, "we can head to my dressing room, and maybe play a fun little game…"

"Leave her alone, Ernesto!" Héctor yelled as he stepped between the two, protectively standing in front of his granddaughter.

"Alright, alright – I can tell when I'm not wanted." Ernesto put his hands up, rolling his eyes as he stepped back a little. He looked to Victoria and added, "I look forward to dancing with you again soon, mi angelita."

"In your dreams," she muttered.

"Alas, the show must go on," Ernesto said, walking past the Riveras. He stepped up to the curtain and slicked back his hair, putting on a grin as he emerged to his audience.

"Are you okay, mija?" Héctor asked his granddaughter.

"Sí, I'm – I'll be fine," Victoria replied, nodding a bit.

"Did that really just happen?" Miguel asked, as he and Imelda stepped closer to the two. "Did De la Cruz actually flirt with Tía Victoria?"

"Unfortunately, yes – he did," Imelda answered her grandson's question, disgust evident in her tone. "That no-good, dirty burro…"

"Look, we'll talk about him later – let's just focus on getting our little chamaco home now, okay?" Héctor tried changing the subject, reminding them of the final step of the plan.

"Right, right…" Imelda pulled out the marigold petal, lifting it to her grandson. "You have our blessing, Miguel – with no conditions."

"I promise I won't let Coco forget you, Papá Héctor," Miguel said as he looked at his great-great grandfather.

Héctor smiled at the boy. "I know you won't, mijo."

Miguel then looked at his great-aunt, a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry about what happened back there, Tía Victoria," he apologized. He felt as though it was his fault, since he had urged her to sing, thus making her go onto the stage. "I didn't think he would—"

"—it's okay, Miguel," she reassured him. "You didn't know – and truth be told, I actually enjoyed singing out there."

"Really?" The twelve year-old was surprised to hear that his usually stoic aunt actually liked singing.

"Really." A small smile formed on her face. "Now, go home."

The boy nodded, and touched the marigold petal. There was a whirlwind of marigolds – and soon, the boy was gone.

"Phew," Héctor sighed in relief. "What a long night this was!"

"Definitely the most insane Día de Muertos there ever was," Victoria remarked, while everyone else nodded in agreement with her comment.

"Now, let's go home," Imelda said, then brought her fingers to her lips as she whistled for Pepita to come.


"Haha!" Ernesto laughed, clapping his hands as he walked out onto the stage, met by the audience's cheering.

"Señor de la Cruz!" One of his security guards approached him, followed by another. "The delincuentes – they've got the photo, and they're getting away!"

"So? Let them," Ernesto whispered to the guard, his eyes still focused on the audience.

"But Señor—" the other one tried to protest, only to be cut off by the mariachi.

"—I don't have the time to go after them right now. I have a performance to keep up." He waved a hand dismissively. "Now go."

The two guards tried to protest again, "But Señor!"

"Oh, and you're both fired," the mariachi added.

"What?!"

"Go."

With a sigh, the guards headed off the stage while Ernesto continued on with the show. However, one thing was on the mariachi's mind as the show went on.

Whatever it took, he would find a way to get a date with that angel – he would seize his moment, and her heart.