I know this was a fast update, but that's only because I'm off school today. Ya'll seem to like this story, so let's see where this journey takes us. Please enjoy the fic!
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Rosa grunted as she struggled to pull herself and a certain 'guest' into her and her cousin's secret spot. It was hidden from the rest of the family and muffled any noise that came from it. It was the perfect space to practice music. "Miguel," she huffed out, trying to get through the tiny space without being seen. She had also set up a shrine to Earlina De Paula there with her albums, posters, figurines, lit candles, and her movie playing on the TV. "Ven a obtenen a tu amigo."
Miguel chuckled and grabbed the dog, pulling him all the way through. "Ay, Dante," he said, exasperatedly. "You're going to get us caught. Someone could hear us." He scoffed. "I wish someone would want to hear us."
Dante was a Xolo dog that the two had found almost a year ago. He had immediately taken a liking to Miguel- probably due to the fact that Miguel was the one that fed him- and had been around them ever since. Rosa honestly thought he was a dumb dog, but Miguel insisted that he was smarter than he let on.
"You're lucky I saw him," stated Rosa as she lugged herself off the floor. "Tía Gloria almost saw him come in here."
"How did the talk with Abuelita go?" Miguel asked as they both sat down.
Rosa sighed. "She said that it's my job to steer you on the right path," she answered honestly. "Miguel, if you keep making your love for music so obvious, we'll both be stuck making shoes for the rest of our lives."
Even without music, that was the last thing she wanted to do. Perhaps becoming a musician was a bit of a stretch, but there had to be more to life than shoes. The Rivera's treated shoe-making as if it were the holy grail that saved their family (which it sort of did, but that wasn't the point). If making it as a violinist didn't work out, there had to be other options. Besides, music was something she could always do on the side.
He frowned at her. "Rosa, I can't help it!" he told her. "It's not my fault that they're always breathing down mi cuello!" He had a point, but he just needed to learn more tact.
She rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't be if you would stop making it obvious." She shook her head. "Ever since we were criaturas, you were tapping away at your tray. We never had a chance."
Miguel shrugged. "Hey, blame Tatara Abuela. We probably got it from her."
Rosa nodded in agreement. "Probably." She leaned on Miguel's shoulder as they watched one of Earline de Paula's most famous movies; La música es Mi Vida. In it, she was belting out and playing one of her songs; The World Es Mi Familia.
Miguel handed her her violin and bow from the other side of him. "Here, prima," he offered.
Rosa took it and began bowing along with her idol. She had learned everything she knew about music from these movie and listening to De Paula over and over again. Violin was a difficult instrument, but with the World's Greatest Musician guiding her, she had picked it up rather fast. She had even gotten good at singing while she played, and that had to be the biggest challenge of all.
So, taking a deep breath, Rosa began to sing.
Señoras y señores,
Buenas tardes, buenas noches
Buenas tardes, buenas noches,
Señoritas y señores
To be here with you tonight,
Brings me joy, que alegria
For this music is my language,
And the world es mi familia
For this music is my language,
And the world es mi familia
For this music is my language,
And the world es mi familia!
As she finished, she heard Miguel begin to applaud her. "Bravo!" he cheered.
Rosa chuckled. "Gracias, primo," she said. She lowered her head. "I just wish the family would agree." She leaned closer to the small TV where her idol was talking.
"Señorita de Paula, what did you do to make sure nothing stood in your way?" an interviewer asked the woman.
De Paula smiled that brilliant, heart-winning smile that made millions of people fall in love with her and her music. "Music is a very powerful weapon, mi amigo," she responded. "It's not just mere sound. It influences us, inspires us, drives us. Music is everywhere and it's beautiful. True, there were obstacles along the way, but the power of music conquers all. I saw my opportunity-"
"And I took it," Rosa finished along with the violinist. She then turned to her cousin, "The mariachi I was talking to said something to me today."
Miguel turned to her. "Yeah?" he replied. "What was it?"
"That I should stop hiding-" She gestured around her. "-this. How much I love music." Rosa took the poster for the talent show. "Miguel, I have to play in this plaza. I have to show everyone what I can do."
He grinned at her. "Done being the niña perfecto, eh?" he teased, though inside he was feeling somber. He wanted to perform as well, but he almost always had the family's attention, especially when it came to music. It would be much easier for Rosa to slip out, unnoticed.
If both of them couldn't perform, he'd rather it be at least one of them. And if it couldn't be him, there was no one else he would have perform than Rosa.
Rosa nodded. "Cover for me?" she asked.
"Always," promised Miguel, smiling at her. Of all the trouble he got her in, this was the least he could do. They had always been close, as thick as thieves since he was born. They would always have each others' backs, no matter what.
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Rosa quietly jumped from the low rooftop and onto a tree, sliding to the ground. She had to play this just right; she couldn't afford any slip-ups. She made her way for the entryway, but paused when she heard the voice of her father and grandmother coming from either side of her. She clutched her violin closer to her and backed up, right into the family's altar.
She jumped when she heard a light bark. "Dante!" she snapped, spotting the dog next to her. "What are you doing in here!?" The voices of her family grew louder and she quickly shoved the dog under the table along with her violin. "Perro mudo."
Why Miguel kept that thing around would always remain a mystery to her. He seemed to be much more trouble than he was worth; always getting into things, irritation Abuelita, etc. She had read that Xolo dogs were supposed to be mighty spirit guides, but he seemed even dumber than a regular dog.
"Rosa?"
She jumped again, spinning around to meet the eyes of her father, grandmother, and mother. "I wasn't doing anything!" she yelped. Her grandmother gave her a suspicious look, approaching her slowly, her parents flanked on either side of her.
This didn't look good. "Mamá, Papá, what's going on?" Rosa asked carefully.
Her father smiled broadly at her. "Mija, your abuelita had the most wonderful idea," he stated gleefully. "We've all agreed that your old enough to start working in the shop!"
"What?" An apron was shoved onto her shoulders.
"Everyday after school, you'll work with us," explained Papá, ignoring her. He then scowled. "It'll keep you away from that plaza. that's for sure."
Rosa couldn't believe her ears. The little free time she had after school was being stripped from her and in its place would be spent in a hot, stuffy workshop. A place that smelled of shoes and where injuries always tended to happen; Abel almost always sent a shoe flying onto the ceiling! Being in the plaza was an escape from the 'beloved' shoe legacy.
And now it was being stolen from her.
It wasn't fair! She did everything to make her family proud! Why did she have to be the one forced into making shoes? Why was it that Miguel got off Scott-free while she was the one being punished?
However, she kept these thoughts to herself (as usual).
Her mother, Carmen, had literal tears in her eyes. "My Rosie working in the shop!" she gushed. "You will make your ancestors so proud!"
Abuelita was already pinching her cheeks. "My nieta preciosa carrying on the family tradition!" she exclaimed excitedly. "And on Día de los Muertos! You'll craft huraches just like your Tía Victoria. And wingtips like your Papá Julio! Oh, we must celebrate!"
"I'll make a toast tonight!" declared her father. "Enrique, break out the good stuff!"
Rosa said nothing as her family fussed. She watched them silently, taking in their excitement as they completely disregarded her opinion. She supposed she should have expected this. Everyone had to join the business at some point; no exceptions.
She was a Rivera. And a Rivera was a shoemaker, through and through.
Her mother kissed her cheek, her father ruffled her hair, and her grandmother peppered her face with small pecks. She managed to give the aged woman a small, fake smile before she was left alone.
Well, not completely. Mamá Coco was sitting in the corner silently and Rosa decided to approach her. "Hola, Mamá Coco," she greeted softly. "I guess I'm doing your Papá proud, huh? Joining the family business?" She was quiet for a moment before speaking again, "Do you ever miss it? The music?"
No reply. Rosa honestly didn't expect one.
She couldn't believe this was happening. Why was she being forced into the workshop? Why did she have to slave away, making shoes for the rest of her life? Didn't she have a say in what she did with her life?
The sound of rustling caught her attention and she turned to see Dante on the ofrenda, eating the offerings. "Dante!" she snapped, rushing over to him. She grabbed him by his sausage body and attempted to lug him off. This caused the entire altar to rattled. "Dante, off! ¡Perro mudo!"
Rosa finally managed to yank him off, but not before the damage was done. Everything settled back into place except for one thing.
Papá Héctor's photo tumbled off the top of the ofrenda before she could stop it. She attempted to catch it, but it slipped through her fingers, hitting the floor with a crash. The glass of the frame shatter into tiny pieces.
"No!" exclaimed Rosa. "No, no, no!" She rushed forward to collect the picture before it was damaged. She picked up the black and white photo, only to notice something odd. The picture was folded, covering up a part of the photo.
Unfolding it, Rosa gasped. Next to her great-great grandmother was a violin case. A very familiar violin case. "De Paula's case?" she breathed.
"Mamá?" called out Mamá Coco softly. "Mamá?"
Rosa approached her. "Mamá Coco," she began slowly. "is your mamá Earline De Paula?"
Mamá Coco simply pointed to the faceless woman. "Mamá! Mamá!"
This changed everything.
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Rosa burst into her shrine and yanked an album cover from its shelf. She examined the violin case that De Paula was holding and compared it the the black-and-white picture from the ofrenda. It was the same exact one. From the size, to the model, down to the handle. It even had the same unique, swirly design on it.
Her great-great grandmother was Earlina De Paula.
Giddy with excitement, Rosa ran to find her cousin. "Miguel!" she shouted, sprinting through the Rivera property. "Miguel, I know who out great-great grandmother is!" Dios, where was that boy? She busted into the kitchen to find the boy she was looking for. "Miguel!"
He jumped and turned around to face her. "Rosa? What is it?"
"Earlina De Paula!" answered Rosa. She realized that she was loud and expressive and all the things that her cousin usually was, but at that moment, she was too happy to care. "She was Mamá Coco's mother. She's our great-great grandmother! We can be musicians, just like her!"
"Musicians?" came a voice. They both froze, turning around to see her mother standing there, gawking at the both of them.
Mierda.
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About ten minutes later, Rosa watched as all her stuff was dumped onto the ground. Her records, her CD's, and her violin too. She was just thankful that they hadn't found her cousin's things too. He would be devastated. "What is all this?" demanded her grandmother, her tone the angriest she had ever heard it. "You keep secrets from your own family?"
Her father gave a disapproving grunt. "It's all that time you've been spending in the plaza," he accused.
"It's been filling her head with crazy fantasies," added Tía Gloria.
Rosa stayed quiet through her scolding, though she could feel her temper rising. Lashing out and talking back would only make matters worse. She needed to keep a level head. Miguel looked like he wanted to say something, but she stopped him with a curt shake of the head. He would only make things worse and get himself in trouble and her deeper in it.
That was the last thing they needed.
"Same something, girl!" barked her father.
Rosa sighed. "This woman," she began. "is Earlina De Paula, the greatest musician of all time." She handed the picture to her father.
Papá examined it. "We've never known a thing about this la moza," he spat at her disdainfully. "but we do know that she ran off and abandoned her family. I will not have you follow in her footsteps."
She turned to her mother, who had been silent throughout the whole ordeal. "You said I would make my family proud," she reminded her. "Well, not I can. I can make De Paula proud!"
Mamá shook her head. "Rosa Marigold Rivera, you know the ruled of this household," she said sternly. "The life of a musician is no life for you or anyone here." She gave Miguel the side-eye and her chuckled nervously.
"But Mamá, playing music is in my blood!" Rosa argued. She was really beginning to get frustrated and her voice was starting to rise. It was her life, why couldn't she just live it the way she wanted to? "I'm supposed to be a musician!"
"Never!" cut in Abuelita. "That woman's music was a curse! I will not allow it!"
"But-"
"Rosa," Mamá interrupted sternly. She could tell she was pushing it, but at this point she didn't care. She was done being the perfectly obedient daughter. She wanted one thing- one thing- in her life and she would not let them rip it away from her.
"You will listen to you family," Papá insisted. "No more music!"
Rosa was running out of options and she knew it, but she couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let them take away the one thing that brought her joy. "Just... Just hear me out," she begged, picking up her violin. Music changed the minds of millions of people everyday. Why would her family be any different?
"You heard your father," snapped Mamá.
Rosa ignored her and began to bow on her violin. She winced as it was snatched out of her hand by her father.
"Do you want to end up like that moza?!" he bellowed. "Alone? Forgotten? Left of your family's ofrenda?"
Her temper spiked at that. They were really making her choose. Music or family. They would really shun her if she chose to follow her dream. How could they do that to her, or Miguel for that matter? If family really was more important than music, why should it be the factor that ruled their lives? They would outcast her so willingly because of it.
"Maybe I don't want to be on the stupid ofrenda!" she shouted back.
There was a collective gasp from the family (including Miguel) and she was sure she had never seen her papá so angry. He raised her valuable possession above his head.
"No!" she shrieked, realizing what he was doing.
Mamá looked at him warily. "Berto-"
He flung her violin onto the ground, shattering the handmade instrument into pieces and beyond repair. "There," he said, satisfied. "No instrument, no plaza, no music."
Rosa's mouth hung open as she crouched down to her destroyed instrument. It had taken her almost three years to save up enough money and nearly five months to make it passable as a violin. The bow- which was real- had costed even more (and what was a bow without the violin?). She remembered being so elated when it was finally done. She had been so proud of herself, so excited to finally be a little more like her idol.
All that money and energy gone and wasted because of her father.
She didn't even know she was breathing so heavy or that there were tears in her eyes until her abuelita put her hand on her shoulder. "There, there, mija," she soothed. "You'll feel better after you eat with your family-"
Rosa stood abruptly, shoving the woman's hand off her shoulder. "I hate this family!" she screeched, snatching the picture from her father before taking off into town.
"Rosa!" she heard her father call behind her as she ran. "Rosa!"
She ignored him, putting as much distance between her and the other Rivera's as she could. She was acting like her cousin would, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe she should be more like him since being careful got her nowhere.
She didn't care what anybody said anymore, she was going to that talent show. And nobody was going to stand in her way.
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I usually keep my chapters to around 2000 each, but for some reason, this story had me writing around 3000. I guess that's better for you guys, huh? I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review!
