"...and then you come in right here on 'The loco that you make me/ It is just un poco crazy.'"
Ernesto listened to Héctor earnestly, looking over the slightly crumpled papers in Héctor's hand. He was more than thrilled that Héctor had decided to use "Un Poco Loco" in the show that he didn't care that Héctor was doing most of the singing for it. He took the song from Héctor and raised it above his head triumphantly. "We are so going to win this!" he cried out in ecstasy.
The two partners practiced the song all day until they knew it backwards and forwards.
Finally, it was time for the competition.
Always for big performances and competitions, Héctor and Ernesto wore matching outfits. Tonight, they wore red in theme with the love song; red jackets with gold trim, matching pants, a white shirt with a black tie, and black boots. It was all the cheapest they could find, obviously, but Ernesto always said that one day their clothing would be sequined with real diamonds and embroidered with real gold thread. Héctor allowed him to fantasize, but Ernesto was convinced that if they won enough contests and performed in enough places, they would own the world.
Now, they stood backstage, awaiting their turn. The singer in front of them had a very strong voice and it echoed all throughout the plaza. Héctor ran a hand over his guitar. The skull painted onto his handle stared up at him, almost seeming to censure him. What are you doing? it seemed to say, This is a special song. It is not meant to be performed for the world. Héctor looked away from it. The thought still bothered him, but how could he let Ernesto down? He was so set on winning this competition. Winning meant more opportunities, more recognition, perhaps even traveling to the city. Héctor knew that Ernesto had big dreams, even bigger than his own. So how could he deny him that now when they were so close just because he was a sentimental old sap?
The singer on stage finished and the next group stood up. Héctor and Ernesto were next. Ernesto was pacing, doing his usual stretches and vocalizing in order to warm up. Héctor sighed as he watched him.
What was he even doing? Why did he want to stay in Santa Cecilia anyway? He certainly felt no passion for this competition anymore. The only reason he was here was to please Ernesto. Other than that, there was... Imelda. Imelda, the girl whom the song had been written for. She was reason to stay in Santa Cecilia. Héctor drummed on his guitar as he pictured her face. That cross expression she always wore, her dark brown eyes, her small nose, her dainty figure, her dark hair. She was everything.
Ernesto sat beside Héctor. "Are you ready?"
Héctor gave a grunt in response. Ernesto sensed his uneasiness and he nudged him in the shoulder. "Hey, it will be great," he said, "It is a good song. We will definitely win."
He put an arm around Héctor and gestured into the distance as though they were looking at a grand painting. "You said it before, Héctor," Ernesto continued, "If we win tonight, so many opportunities will open up. Imagine: we will finally be recognized. We can leave Santa Cecilia and play in bigger, better places and it's only up, up, up from there. Picture the enormous adoring crowds, diamond sequined clothes, women falling at our feet! We will have it all!"
And Imelda would become a thing of the past. Héctor tensed up at the thought. He shook his head. It sounded perfectly awful. He couldn't do it.
"No, Ernesto," he said.
"What?" Ernesto asked, confused.
"I can't go out there," Héctor responded.
Ernesto put a hand on his shoulder. "My friend, I've seen you get nervous before. You will be fine. Just shake it off like you always do."
"No," Héctor said sternly, "I am really not going out there. I can't go along with this. I won't go out there."
Ernesto looked positively horrified at this revelation. He grasped both of Héctor's shoulders. "No, no, no, mi amigo, you must go out there!" he said urgently, "We will lose everything we've been working for."
"I won't," Héctor replied calmly, "I have found what I've been looking for."
Ernesto did not seem to process this. He released Héctor, stood up, and began to pace. "What, Imelda? Héctor, be reasonable. You would give up everything?" he asked, "And for what? A girl? Please, Héctor! We've been dreaming of this since we were children."
Héctor stood up and narrowed his eyes. "I am doing this for love!" he declared boldly, "If you had ever been in love, you'd understand."
He turned to leave, but then he looked back at Ernesto. "If you still want to perform the song, go ahead. I just won't be joining you."
Then he left Ernesto alone, struck dumb.