Laughing.

Talking.

Being outside instead of in his bedroom.

For a moment, Héctor felt exhilerated as him and Victoria walked all over the Land of the Dead. What Héctor liked the most was the fact that he didn't feel tired anymore.

That meant that maybe he was getting better.

And that was the one thing he wanted right now.

Victoria was laughing as they walked, not exactly full-blown hysterics, but close enough.

"Seriously?" she asks, still laughing.

Héctor nods. "You should've seen the way they were looking at us." he told her. "That wasn't the issue, though. The fact that they almost kicked me out-- just me, not her-- that's an issue."

Victoria looks at him. "Well, what did you do?"

Héctor cringed. "I didn't do anything except for pray that Imelda wasn't going to attack anyone. Believe me, she definetely was ready to, but I talked her out of it."

Victoria shakes her head, smiling. "Did you at least get the dance party you guys wanted?"

Héctor nods. "Until Ernesto cornered me and chewed me out." he muttets, "I didn't even realize I'd forgotten to tell him where I was going that night until he was practically dragging me out of there."

Victoria shakes her head again. "And you still chose to hang out with him."

"Of course I did."

Victoria rolls her eyes. Héctor laughs.

They continue walking. As they pass people, heads turn. Héctor hears their comments.

"Look! It's Héctor Rivera!"

"You mean the crazy musician?"

"Stop calling him that!"

"But that's what he is."

"He can hear you, you know. Stop talking!"

"He doesn't care. Look. He doesn't even notice."

Héctor stops walking and presses his hand to his forehead. The spinning had returned. Not as intense, but still kind of unbearable. He closes his eyes and when he does, the feeling goes away.

He hears Victoria's voice. "Are you okay?"

He opens his eyes and sees Victoria's concern. He nods. "Let's keep going." he says, a bit lost in thought. And a little frusterated. Why had the spinning sensation returned? He was getting better now.

Wasn't he?

Héctor shrugs it off and keeps walking. Him and Victoria resume talking. Then she asks him, "if you had the choice, would you change yourself?"

Héctor shakes his head.

Victoria looks puzzled. "Why not? Hardly anyone likes you."

Héctor startles, a little taken aback by that sentence. "Some people like me." he defends. He stares at her. "Don't you?"

Victoria nods. "But wouldn't you just change one thing about yourself?"

"No."

"Not your hyperactivity?"

"No way! That's an advantage."

"What about your optimism?"

Héctor scoffs. "Who wants to change that?"

"What about your intensity levels? How you take certain things?"

Héctor goes silent for a moment. He's never really thought about that before. True, he is a bit more vulnerable to certain things than most people are, but it doesn't mean it bothers him.

"No." he says finally. "Not that, either."

Victoria stops walking and turns to face him. Her expression is serious. "But you get sicker than most people because of it." she says. "You wouldn't want to change that?"

Héctor looks away from her, staring up at the sky. "Just because I don't nessicarily like that about myself," he tells her, "doesn't mean I'd want to change it."

Victoria sighs. "Wow. You are really amusing."

Héctor flashes her a grin "Aren't I?"

Victoria laughs and rolls her eyes

They walk in silence for a few more minutes, and that's when it hits him.

It starts small: that familiar, dreaded spinning feeling in his head. Héctor falters and stops walking.

Then it comes stronger: a wave of nausea, then another one, stronger than the last. He closes his eyes tightly, panting.

The rest comes in a flash.

The spinning increases.

His energy drains.

His head starts pounding.

His breathing gets louder in his ears.

Victoria's words: "Héctor? Héctor! Can you hear me."

He can't get his mouth to form words fast enough.

He hears Victoria's cry of worry before he falls forward, hard, to the ground.

Everything goes black. The pain intensifies.