The first thing that Ernesto notices about Jario's house when him and Héctor step through the door is the fact that, despite having only one floor, it's noticeably large and has a lot of space, which he normally wouldn't expect for a place with only one owner, especially not in an area like this where all the houses are tightly packed together and look dingy and old.
Jario walks in front of them with a quick pace, leading them through the building and humming something under his breath. Ernesto slows down and walks behind Jario and Héctor so he can study his surroundings.
The gray paint that's chipped and peeling off of the walls gives the space a dreary feeling, but otherwise it's a very neat and immaculate place. The dark brown wood floors don't have any dust or dirt covering them, and the other pieces of furniture look just as clean. The couch against the front wall has two pillows sitting on top of it, and the tables on either side of it have two lamps and several pictures-- at least eleven of them each-- covering their surfaces. Two armchairs sit facing the couch, the light bouncing off of their glossy fabrics. There's a thick white carpet in the middle of the space, looking fresh and new despite all the years it's been there.
The kitchen area has wide counters that flank a small, four person table in the middle of the room. Both the counters and the tables are laden with different types of food and at least five platters of cookies and assorted candies (which Ernesto notices Héctor scowling at with deep disdain for some reason, even though upon a further glance Ernesto notices that several of the treats used to be Héctor's favorites when he was younger).
Jario notices Héctor staring and gives him an encouraging look. "You can take some if you want, Littlehero," he says. "I've still got plenty left."
Héctor narrows his eyes in Jario's direction, and Jario shrinks back.
"Or not," he says, sounding defeated. "You don't have to. It was just a thought, you know."
Ernesto hears Héctor's irritated sigh in front of him.
On the wall to the right of the kitchen table, there are three separate hallways, each with the walls completely covered in pictures and photos in thick frames. One hall even appears to have pictures on the ceiling. When Ernesto walks over to study them closer, he gawks.
All pictures are of Héctor. In some he looks as young as five years old, whereas in others he looks fourteen or thirteen. Not even Ernesto's parents kept that many pictures of Héctor or Ernesto when they were alive. It makes Ernesto cringe when he takes a step back.
Ernesto hears Jario laugh nervously behind him, and when Ernesto turns to face him, he sees the man blushing, his hands clasped behind his back as he stares at the picture-covered walls of both hallways. He averts his eyes from Ernesto's face as he speaks. "I... I didn't want to throw any of those pictures away, and I figured that neither of you would mind if I took them with me."
Ernesto stares at him incredulously. "You kept all of these? This whole time?"
Jario shrugs, grinning sheepishly. "You know how much I love being around Littlehero. And I missed him when I left, so why not keep all of the memories I have of him?"
"But..." Ernesto gapes at all of the photos again, spreading his arms out in a beseeching manner. "Did you really have to keep all of them? I mean, not even my parents kept this many pictures of Héctor and I."
"Then I guess I like you two more than your own parents did."
Ernesto frowns, but before he can say anything, he hears Héctor's cold voice coming from the living room area.
"You have a funny way of showing it, Jario."
Both men turn to see Héctor sitting in the right armchair. His legs are crossed at the ankles and his back is rigid. His arms are crossed like they were earlier at the restaurant, and his body is turned away from them as he stares intently out the window at the dark and starry sky.
Unlike Ernesto, who tossed his suitcase and guitar to the side minutes after entering the house, Héctor keeps his guitar on his back and his suicase next to him. Ernesto can't see his amigo's face, but it's not hard to imagine the expression he's wearing.
Ernesto has never seen Héctor like this with anyone before, and it's a shock to see him this way. Usually it's Ernesto judges everyone, but here it appears that the tables are turned.
It's really starting to annoy him.
Jario sighs as he follows Ernesto's gaze to stare at Héctor. "You can put your things away, Littlehero," he says carefully, his arms almost reaching out touch him.
"No gracias," Héctor snaps, still turned away sharply.
Ernesto huffs. "Like it or not, Héctor, we are staying here the whole time we're in Aguascalientes. You can be stubborn if you want, but nothing will change."
Héctor turns to face the two men and stands up, his arms still crossed as he sends Jario a firey look. "I can't believe you think that us staying here makes up for you leaving us like that."
Jario rolls his eyes. "You know Ernesto deserved to be beaten up, Littlehero. And besides, he's alive, right? He's standing right next to me."
Héctor scowls, sqeezing his hands to fists as he drops them to his sides. "I don't care. You don't leave tus compañeros when they need you the most. You help them whether you want to or not." He storms past Jario and Ernesto down the hall. Turning briskly, he adds, "And Ernesto did not deserve that punishment. He's the best friend anyone could ever ask for."
He continues his heated walk down the hall with those last words, opening the door to one of the bedrooms and slams the door behind him.
Ernesto glances at Jario, and his heart clenches a bit when he sees slight tears welling in the man's eyes. Ernesto knows that Héctor used to favor Jario due to the fact that Ernesto hung out with him, but now it occurs to him that Jario didn't just like Héctor-- he adored him, in the same way that Héctor has always adored Ernesto.
After a few minutes, Jario sighs, shakes his head, and wipes his eyes in one swift motion. He turns to Ernesto. "Make yourself at home," he says hoarsely. He walks away shakily, casting a hurt look at the closed door before making his way to his own room, only closing the door halfway.
Ernesto lets himself into the room that Héctor had shut himself into earlier, seeing that the man has fallen asleep on the bed, laying sprawled out on his back with his face contorted into a deep frown and his left hand still curled into a fist in its position over his stomach.
Ernesto stares down at him in disbelief at his behavior earlier, and he feels a pang of nervousness and annoyance as he realizes that he will most likely be seeing that same manner of being in his best friend for the entire time they are staying here.