"Superhero!" Héctor yelled, "Superhero!"

"What?" Ernesto groaned. "I told you to quit calling me that."

"No one can hear us," Héctor replied jokingly, "so you shouldn't care."

"I don't," Ernesto lied, walking away. "What do you want?"

"I got us a spot in the talent show!" Héctor was practically yelling. "We'll be able to perform together! Everyone will love us!"

Ernesto stopped dead, turning around. He glared at Héctor, who was bouncing where he stood.

He knew why Héctor liked performing with him: he never did anything without Ernesto. He never wanted to. It was one of the things that annoyed the heck out of Ernesto.

Especially when Héctor was excited.

Like right now.

"Why did you do that?" Ernesto asked Héctor, who shrugged and swayed back and forth sheepishly.

"You love performing," Héctor explained. "I thought I'd do this for you as an early birthday present."

Ernesto sighed, Héctor's explination seducing him.

A little.

"Look, Héctor," Ernesto started. "You should do it yourself."

"Why?" Héctor asked, "we always do it together."

"Yeah, but..." Ernesto trailed off.

Héctor stared at him.

Ernesto sighed. "You would be great by yourself," Ernesto told him, grabbing Héctor by the shoulders. "I think it would be awesome to see you up there. And that way, if I'm ever busy or... anything, you can do it yourself and not have to worry."

"You're not upset?"

"No," Ernesto said quickly, "not really. Just do it. It'll be fun."

Héctor stared at the ground. "I do like fun," he mutters.

"That's the spirit!" Ernesto cried joyfully, pushing Héctor forward. "Now go up there and give the audience a performance they deserve."

Héctor grinned.

"Ok." he said earnestly, "I'll do it. Happy Birthday, Ernesto."

Ernesto smiled. "You're awesome," he muttered as Héctor took the stage.

Ernesto awoke with a start. He sat up fast, not nessicarily scared, just startled. While that dream was different than most of the others, it somehow haunted him more even though it was happier. He rubbed the back of his neck as he got out of bed, non-existant ears ringing.

Why did Héctor have to be so excited? So... loud? Ernesto pressed his hand to his forehead and looked out his window. The high view usually comforted him: it was like looking down at a massive concert audience. But today it only reminded him of how many people despised him, how many people hated his guts.

Ernesto turns away, disgusted. He fell back down onto his bed, covering his eyes with his hands. A few moments later, he hears a thump outside his door. Mixed with the sound of walking, maybe running feet.

Ernesto groans. Whoever it is, Ernesto thought, they better have a good reason for disturbing me. Ernesto opened the door, ready to yell at the source of this disturbance.

But he didn't see anyone.

He looked down at the floor and saw a small brown package. Confused, Ernesto opened up the box and dropped it.

Inside were a couple of toys and a note with very familiar handwriting.

Superhero,

I bought these for you this morning. You can keep them. No thanks required. I still don't like what you did to me, but I want my best amigo back.

Yours truly,

Héctor.

Ernesto ripped up the note and threw the toys against the wall. Then he stomped on them and threw himself on his bed angrily.

He thought Héctor was going to leave him alone from now on. But he had never been more wrong.