The next day Ernesto paced heatedly. His life had never been worse, not even when Héctor had figured out what Ernesto did to him. To make matters worse, he couldn't get Héctor's stupid childlike voice out of his head.
Superhero! Superhero!
Ernesto hated that nickname. All it did was embaress him at parties and make people give him judgemental looks. The looks that read control your amigo or else.
When Ernesto recieved those looks of spite at hatred, it made him angry. Héctor was as uncontrolable as the weather. What could Ernesto do about it? Nothing. So all those stares meant was that people hated him. And Héctor. Mostly Héctor, Ernesto thought as he kicked at the cell door.
"Quiet down!" a security guard bellowed from in front of him. Ernesto sneered in reply.
He sat down on his cot, staring out the window at his mansion. He twisted away. Just looking at it was too much for him. Ernesto huffed and layed down. At least this way he couldn't see it anymore.
The sound of the cell door opening woke Ernesto out of his less-than-pleasent sleep. He'd had another nightmare, and while he hadn't planned on zoning out, he couldn't help it. Ernesto hadn't slept in half a month.
"Señor de la Cruz?" a security guard asked.
Ernesto forced himself to sit up with a groan. The word Superhero echoed in his mind as he intently tried to shove it out. "What is it, Officer?" Ernesto says snarkily, "Come to smash me to pieces? Or are you gonna haul me up onto your shoulders and toss me out the door?"
The guard fixes Ernesto with a glare. "We're relocating you." he said, "as of today, you can have your mansion back."
Ernesto bolts to full attention. His mansion. He was going to get his mansion back. His beautiful, familiar, safe mansion. Ernesto starts to smile, but then he considers something.
"Did someone ask you to do it," Ernesto asks, "or did you actually grow a consience overnight?"
The guard scowls. "Do you want your mansion back or not?"
Ernesto clamps his mouth shut.
"Someone did ask us to do it." The guard smiled dryly. "I think you know him. Señor Rivera!"
Ernesto froze and stiffened. Rivera!? Did he just say Rivera?
Ernesto cringes when Héctor steps closer to the cell. Héctor is dressed in a charro suit that reminds Ernesto of the one he wore to one of his concert. The suit is sparkly and purple. Héctor has a matching superhero cape on with it, and to make matters worse, random pieces of candy are taped to it.
Ernesto glares at him. Welcome to Superhero City.
Héctor clears his throat. "It was my idea," he says sadly, "If you were going to be hated from now on, I wanted you to have your old living quarters back."
Ernesto glares harder. Living quarters? Ernesto lives in a mansion, not some stupid apartment or rundown duplex thing.
"So you were behind this," Ernesto mutters darkly, "I hope you don't expect anything out of it."
"No." Héctor shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Just hope this gets you out of your depression."
Ernesto banged against the cell door. "Depression?" he exclaims, "this is more than a mere depression, Héctor. You anihilated me. Destroyed my reputation. Nothing will fix this. Nothing can make this better. Nothing."
His words have an edge to them. His voice is dripping with venom. He puts his face against the cell and says in low voice, "All you did was make my life dreadful. You always got in the way. This changes absolutely nothing, Héctor. You can't change my feelings."
"I can change your privaleges." Héctor replies, "besides, this way, you're a bit more free. I did it for you, Superhero. You should appreciate it."
Ernesto feels spiteful rage build up inside him. "I'm not your superhero." he snarls. "The only thing I like about this is the fact that you're no longer my problem."
Ernesto delivers a hard slap to Héctor's face as he passes him. Then, as the officers escort him out, he snarls, "I wish we never met each other."