Ernesto kept his head lowered as he followed Héctor through the town, glaring at the ground as the two of them walked. When they reached the more populated areas again, he crossed his arms tightly over his ribcage to hide the cracks from the prying eyes of the criminals that lived here. The lights overhead grew more frequent in their flickering on and off, making him slow his pace a little so he didn't bump into anyone and call any more attention to himself.
He might be stuck here, but that didn't mean he wanted people to gawk at him and attempt conversation. He could barely hold it together a few minutes earlier when he first arrived, but now with the dread and rage still lingering from his argument with Héctor, and with the feeling of annoyance at the fact that this is the place he'd be staying for the next few months, any attempt people might make to talk to him would drive him over the edge.
At one point, him and Héctor reached six men hanging out under a cracked window that belonged to one of the pitiful houses in this area. They sat around a bonfire that crackled loudly and emitted light that enhanced their mismatched, ripped clothes and the jagged cracks that covered their bones. When Ernesto lifted his head, he could see the joy and contentment in their expressions, and he could hear the loud bursts of laughter passed between them. Ernesto stared darkly at them, jealousy taking form in his mind at the fact that they had the ability to be happier at the moment than he did.
When the men saw Héctor and Ernesto approaching them, they halted their joyus rapport and grew silent. Ernesto saw one man glancing at the cracks in his ribs and skull, horror replacing his grin. Ernesto scowled at him and he abruptly looked away, turning his attention to Héctor instead. A minute passed before one of the men spoke.
"So what is Ernesto doing here?" he asked dubiously, grinning in Héctor's direction. He scrutinized Ernesto jokingly, a crooked grin splitting his face. "Looks like he got hurt pretty badly. Did someone rough him up too much?"
Héctor held up his hands and gave the man a firm look. "Don't talk like that, Tío Carlos," he said with a defensive tone. "Superhero's just going to be staying with us for a while."
"But why is he down here?" another man asked. A breeze in the air stirred the flames of the fire and almost made them brush the faded pink arches and swirls that patterned his forehead and cheekbones. "Is the great Ernesto de la Cruz not welcome in the upper levels?"
Ernesto scowled at the man, but he didn't flinch, squaring his shoulders and returing the look.
"His mansion won't be ready for five months, so I told him he could stay with us," Héctor explained, giving Ernesto a small smile. Ernesto rolled his eyes in response, giving Héctor a dagger look that he either pretended not to notice or really didn't see.
"And you're sure that's a good idea, primo?" an older man spoke up, the fire's light shining on his ripped, baggy shirt and pants, his thin strands of gray hair, and the unsure expression that he gave Héctor.
"Of course it is, Lorenzo," Héctor replied in a sure tone of voice. "In this place, we never turn away those who need help. And Ernesto is no different." He grinned and wrapped an arm around Ernesto's shoulders. "Besides, the more you hang out with him, the more you'll see how nice he can be."
"Yeah, okay," Carlos snapped, narrowing his eyes. "He steals your songs, pretends you never existed, gets you cut off from your family, and you still say he's nice."
"Cállate." Héctor let go of Ernesto and crossed his arms. "The point is, he's staying here with us. It's only for five months anyways."
"Alright," Lorenzo's eyes looked over Ernesto critically, hands curling to fists in his lap. "But I hope he understands that he has some explaining to do."
"I'll deal with that once I finish showing him around," Héctor promised. "I'll see you guys later." He grabbed Ernesto's arm and led him away.
Ernesto yaked his arm away from Héctor's grasp and glowered at him once they were away from the group. He clenched his teeth as he spoke. "You told these vagabundos about what I did to you? You told them everything?!"
Héctor stared a him and cracked a wry grin. "Another thing about this place, Superhero: there are no secrets."
"Lucky me," Ernesto growled bitterly.
Héctor's smile faded and he narrowed his eyes. "Like it or not, you are staying here. If you actually let yourself enjoy it, it'll be fun. Not everything has to fit to your perfect standards." He walked ahead a few steps and turned around. "C'mon, I'll show you where you'll be staying."
Ernesto trudged behind him, his mind still seething over the way those men stared at him, the cutting comments that Lorenzo and Carlos had fired at him. The overhead lights that lined the walkways flickered off again, but this time Ernesto didn't care.
He'd just been humiliated, Héctor just spoke to him with more attitude than he'd ever dared when they were alive, and the fact that he'd be staying in this miserable place just became further set in stone. He needed the darkness to hide his indignation and rage and keep him from drawing any more attention to himself. He'd already been embarrassed and angered enough for one day, and he did not need things to get any worse than they already were.