It could only happen to him. His one chance to make a good impression and he'd gone and blown it, for sure.
He knew it wasnt going to be easy; how could any ordinary man fit in with the amazing Madrigals? Fantastical and magical ran through their veins.
The same could certainly not be said for him.
"I'm a walking disaster" he groaned, slumping hard against the kitchen counter, before taking a chunk out of the arepa he'd just been given.
Within seconds, every cut, bruise and bee sting on his body had miraculously disappeared.
God bless Julieta; what had he done to deserve her?
"Ay, Augustín. It wasn't your fault" she replied, taking his hand lovingly in hers. "These things happen."
Well, she had a point, it wasn't entirely his fault. How was he supposed to know that a bee was going to attack, right at the moment he'd decided to help with the dinner preparations, and carry the plates over to the table...
Or that there was a small step down from the kitchen...
Or that Julieta was about to walk by at exactly the wrong moment for him to crash into her and send the food she was carrying, flying every which way.
Let's just say, his first dinner with his potential in-laws could have gone a lot smoother.
"Yeah. They always happen to me" he sulked.
Julieta shook her head and with a sweet chuckle, planted a gentle kiss upon his forehead.
"I'm going to help Mamà and Pepa clean up. I'll be right back, OK?"
He nodded reluctantly, as he was left alone to his arepa and his thoughts.
'Estúpido' he cursed.
They hated him, of course they did. How could they not after the scene he'd caused? Even La Casita had made her disapproval known.
Had he been a smarter man, he'd have quit whilst he was ahead. Accepted his losses, and left this poor family in peace.
But that would mean leaving her.
Just the thought alone was enough to send a dull ache coursing through his fragile heart.
Would a life without her in it even be worth living?
She was his everything. His soul, his joy, his light in the darkness.
He...he loved her.
There he said it. He loved her.
He was in love with Julieta Madrigal.
The man's heart swelled as he finally found the courage to admit to himself how he truly felt.
Next step: finding the courage to admit the same thing to her.
Simple as that, right?
As if on cue, the gentle padding of approaching footsteps could be heard from just down the hallway.
This was it. His moment. His make or break...
...Or, maybe, just wait until later?
Metaphorically, he kicked himself.
No stalling, now. For better, for worse, this was it; this was his time.
He could do this...
"Mi Corozón" he started shakily, eyes sealed closed, as the sound of footsteps stopped. "I...I want you to know that...you are my everything. My world, my soul mate...I never want to spend another second apart from you, until the day I die."
Oh God, was he rambling?
She wasn't saying anything back...why was she not saying anything?
'...breathe, Augustín. Breathe...'
"I guess what I'm trying to say..." he continued awkwardly, "..is that I'm completely and utterly in love with you and I always will be."
Too much?
His breath hitched in his chest.
"Te...te amo, Mi Vida."
There followed that long, uncomfortable pause as his beloved contemplated her answer.
"Um...thanks. Heh."
Not exactly the reply he wanted. Wait, not exactly the voice he wanted...not Julieta's, which could only mean...
Oh god.
Reluctantly, he peeled open an eye to see a young, dark-haired man, donning a worn green ruana, stood in the doorway in front of him.
It didn't take a genius to work out that he was Julieta's other triplet; the elusive brother who'd failed to show for dinner that night.
Great.
"You...you should write that down" The man continued, as he cautiously edged into the kitchen, stopping briefly to rap his knuckles against the wooden doorframe.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock on wood."
"Y'know, your little love ballad." He added, before giving the wooden table in the centre of the kitchen the same treatment.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock on wood."
"Oh I just...I just..." Augustín fretted, hopelessly "I didn't mean..."
Somehow, words failed him and probably for the best, too. He'd only say something else he'd later regret.
Miércoles.
If embarrassment could kill, he'd have definitely been on his death bed by now; yet another first impression rendered a horrible disaster.
It was hopeless. He was hopeless.
But he wasn't prepared to give up just yet. If not for his own, then for Julieta's sake.
"Adios..."
He looked up to see his brother-in-law to be (hopefully), taking off with one of the few surviours of that night's doomed dinner: a plate of Julieta's homemade buñelos.
Presumably, so that he could eat them alone in his room, later.
"Bruno, wait!" He called out after him.
The man turned, seemingly taken aback to be adressed by name. Not surprising, really, given the element of taboo that name now carried with it.
Don't talk about Bruno; that's what they say.
Seeing him now, it was questionable whether or not he warranted that horrific depiction, the townsfolk had lumbered him with. Pet killer, jynx, harbinger of bad luck.
That certainly wasn't the vibe he was giving off. Anything but.
"I feel we're getting off on the wrong foot, here." he continued. "My name's Augustín. Augustín Rojas. Your sister might have mentioned me?"
Or, at least, he hoped that she had.
He extended a hand for him to shake and after an uncomfortably long time, he finally obliged. Clearly, not a custom he was well used to.
"Mentioned you?" Bruno repeated softly "Kid, she never shuts up about you."
Augustín's heart began performing summersaults, within the confide of his chest.
That's it, after this, he's off to go and buy a ring.
He could almost hear the wedding bells, already.
...Mr Augustín Madrigal...
Oh, that sounded strange. Good, he thought, but strange, nonetheless.
That was until the deceptive clouds of joy started to part, and the nagging doubts of reality began to creep their way back into his mind.
'...Augustín Madrigal?...'
Could he really live up to that name?
Was he worthy to call himself a part of La Familia Madrigal? Just imagine, fantastical and magical and...him.
He flopped himself down, heavily into one of the dining chairs, with a deep sigh of exasperation.
"Who am I kidding?" he mused "I'm never going to be good enough for this family. I'm just...I'm too...unexceptional."
With a risked glance back in Bruno's direction, he found himself surprised at how deeply his words appeared to resonate with the seer.
What? He didn't feel good enough, either?
But, he was a Madrigal by blood.
God, if Doña Alma couldn't accept her own son as a worthy part of the family, how on Earth was she ever going to accept him. Clumsy, accident prone Augustín Rojas.
The hard realisation finally hit him.
"I...I should go..."
"No!" Bruno exclaimed, out of the blue, as he made to leave "I mean...don't, don't go."
Augustín blinked, somewhat confused.
"Look. I know I probably shouldn't be telling you this" he continued "but for you and Juli...this...this isn't how it ends. I mean, you're still gonna be here in the summer, so..."
Augustín shook his head, despondent; this was the end; he knew it. He felt it in his bones.
"I really wish that were true, Mi Amigo" he mumbled, sadly.
Bruno let out an uncomfortable chuckle.
"Whatd'ya mean...it, it is true."
"Please, you can't know that..." Augustín began his melancholy rant until...wait a minute. Something clicked within his brain; he was talking to the one guy in the Encanto who actually could know that.
"Bruno!"
He excitedly clambered to his feet, scaring the poor seer half to death and sending several of the buñelos he had delicately balanced on his plate, bouncing helplessly across the kitchen floor.
Not like that stopped him.
"Bruno! You had a vision didn't you? Tell me everything, what do you know!?" Augustín begged.
He unceremoniously grabbed the prophet square by the shoulders, making every muscle of his upper body tense up in reflex.
"What do you know?" he repeated, desperately.
"Does the family like me? Do Julieta and I get married? Do we have children? No, don't tell me...we have a boy...two boys, am I right? And a dog. Are we getting a dog?!"
Poor Bruno looked terrified.
"I, I..." he started anxiously, as he finally got a word in edgeways "I...don't have all the answers, Felìx...Lo siento."
Felìx? Who is Felìx? Did he like Juli, too?
"Um. Augustín, I mean..." a panic-stricken Bruno corrected, quickly, as his brain caught up with his mouth. "I, I can't tell you. I'm sorry."
"Then show me!" Augustín interjected, dramatically, sending several more of Bruno's buñelos tumbling floorbound. "Show me the future!"
OK, maybe a little desperate.
Visibly, the seer's heart sank. More than that, it looked on the verge of giving him a full blown heart attack.
So much for the 'gift' he was blessed with.
"I, I, I would, but y'know...I um...I don't do visions after six and, and...oh, look at the time. I should go." Bruno mumbled, nervously, as he attempted to wriggle free of Augustín's vice grip.
"But, am I enough?" Augustín blurted out, if anything, tightening the grip he had on the poor man.
"Am I enough to make her happy?"
Bruno stopped squirming for a moment, and looked up at him with sympathetic eyes.
"I...I love her with all my heart and if I don't make her happy then I...I...Please, Bruno, just let me see for myself."
The seer gulped, hard.
"You mean that confession wasn't actually meant for me?" he said, sarcastically, before contemplating further.
"Ugh, fine" he muttered, defeated "just...just don't hate me if you see something you don't like, OK?"
Hate him? Why would he hate him? Seriously, how much grief did this guy get as a result of his abilities?
"OK" Augustín repeated, gently, before finally setting his potential in-law free of his grasp. "Now what?"
How did this thing work?
Bruno gestured to follow him...and the remainder of his buñelos, to wherever it was that they were going. Presumably to the place where Bruno performed his visions.
"C'mon then. Before I change my mind." He muttered, quietly.
Suppose all Augustín could do now was wait and see what the future had in store for him.
For better, for worse.
...