-Soy Milk-
There's this awkward beat of silence after they speak, and they fiddle slightly with the almost fully torn right-side strap of their backpack. The space was already small, but with three people(well two people and one skeleton), and one dog it's even smaller. Almost too small really, and they find that they're uncomfortably pressing themself back against the door of the booth.
Their pack digs into the lower part of their back and they grimace slightly, uncomfortable with the stares that are focused on them.
"It's you!" the skeleton's hand points towards them, even as he awkwardly scrambles himself even further back against the wall across from them. And even the smaller boy, the twelve year old is saying the same. It's enough to make them ugly laugh, body shaking with their mirth.
"Si, It's me! The one who joined you in the marigolds!" they grin wide, before frowning as Miguel also stares them down. "And... the other cursed person... Must be the night for it huh?" Their statement gets at least a small snort from the kid, and they'll count that as a success. Again they find themself twisting their bag's broken strap. Awkwardly offering a weak grin to their companions in the booth. The xolo is the happiest to have them there, bouncing over as best he can in the small area and sniffing them curiously. They have to resist the urge to pull their pack up, hoisting it higher onto their back.
"A-Anyway... I need De la Cruz's blessing if I want to get back to the land of the living..."
"That's weirdly specific..."
"It really is kid..." they gently find themself scratching behind the xolo dog's ears as he continues to be right there beside them. "I mean seriously, why that guy specifically?" of course they know what he believes. They know why, but still, they find themself curious about what he'll say in response to them prodding the subject.
And meanwhile they're there and clueless.
"He's my great-great-grandfather." they valiantly resist the urge to snort, especially as Hector immediately descends into his stunned shock. And of course there's the wait, wait, wait that follows. With the addition of them there, he doesn't quite have the space to turn around, and they lean away from him slightly(as best they can) as he taps his fingers.
Obviously, he's thinking about something.
Well, they were best friends once.
There's something really sad about that, just being there and knowing. The understanding that they have and they don't know what kind of expression crosses their face, but they can feel it when Miguel looks their way, a suspicious frown on his face for merely a moment before Hector's getting all excited and right into his personal space. Even they have to jolt back before amusement covers their face.
They can mouth along with the lines, already knowing exactly where this is going.
"Yes! You're going back to the Land of the Living?!" The way that he eagerly sort of bobs down, and the lack of personal space etiquette. While it still feels very excited puppy, it is a bit uncomfortable, especially with the sharply shifting tone. Still, before they can say anything, before they can interject with the reminder of their existence, Miguel huffs slightly.
"You know what..." Miguel pushes the skeleton away, and they let out a small yelp as they're also shoved to the side. Shoved more or less into Hector, so that the boy can actually leave the phone booth. "Maybe this isn't such a grea-"
Hector darts forwards, and they follow peering around, nervously looking for any sign of the Officers. They're not entirely unsurprised that they didn't really change all that much of the conversation. It's not like they were much of an active participant, or had any real idea of-
"MIGUEL!" hearing the kid's name shouted loud enough to echo and be heard across the entire room is enough to make them jump, almost in tandem with the call of his name the boy lets out a yelp and grabs Hector's arm. He races off, away from them and they don't get the chance to call after. Hector lets out a small yelp and all that they can really do is give a quick glance over their shoulder and chase after the two.
They grin amused as they watch Hector's arm detach, the force of the boy's pulling separating it wholly from the rest of him. An action that forces him to snap his fingers to recapture Miguel's attention. And then they're skidding, coming to a momentary stop as an officer steps forwards, shouting for them. It's only a matter of darting around, before they're hurtling out of the door themself.
A whoop and a laugh as there's a joyous sounding bark, a flash of colour and the hum of wings. A wet eager tongue on the cheek and they laugh, slowing down for just long enough to raise their arms and catch the eager dog-turned-Alebrije for a greeting hug. No fear of hurting her, as the canine keeps licking, happy to see them again. It's Obi, it's their dog, it's been so long. But they don't really have the time for this reunion.
They have to keep moving. They have to push the canine away as they dart into the crowd. All too easily losing whatever pursuers they might have. But in the throng of skeletons it's hard to pick one from another... and they've already lost sight of that eye-catching red hoodie that Miguel's wearing.
They huff, eventually slowing to a walk and ignoring the stares around them. They've lost them, but there's a sharp bark, a reminder.
"OBI!" They dash to the side, ducking into a sheltered alley and the Dog-turned-Alebrije lands in front of them. It gives them an idea, and they feel the sharp grin spreading onto their face. "Lead me to them girl, lead me to them!" The canine lets out another sharp bark, before sniffing the ground for a moment or two. With a howl of triumph, the canine is off, and they follow.
"So... you get kidnapped by twelve year olds often?"
"Shut up!" Hector's head whips around moments after he speaks exclamations spilling involuntarily from his mouth at the shock. Beside him the boy who'd been peering at himself in a small handheld mirror lets out a burst of laughter and they can only grin, hands on their hips before they shake their head.
"I mean, all things considered, sure seems to be happening to you a lot tonight. 'Ey mate?" they tease, a smile spreading over their face before they're shaking their head. If the skeleton has a response for them they ignore it, instead settling themself down on a crate and beaming almost too widely at their two companions. Their own canid companion letting out a greeting bark of her own and trotting over to Dante. "So... how's this going to work anyway... Or honestly, how does any of this," they gesture broadly, waving their arm to emphasize the world around them "work really."
Because seriously, it's pretty weird. And if this isn't a dream then they're well on the way to something of an existential crisis because death is supposed to be nothing. Falling asleep, rest, not... whatever this world was.
"So listen... Miguel, Chica: this place runs on memories. When you're well remembered, people put up your photo and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Día de Muertos." he takes the mirror back and snaps it shut and something curls in their chest. Especially as they watch him just kind of flick it away. Discarding it. "Unless you're me."
"You don't get to cross over..."
"You..." they hesitate, but have to say something. "You don't have a photo..." it makes them wonder about all the other various afterlives, and mechanisms of crossing over. How is it influenced, memory and belief are both very powerful things after all. You're not dead, not truly dead until your forgotten, but the lines can be shaky and vague... what counts as being forgotten, what counts as being remembered...
You die three times.
Physical Death, the metaphorical death when you're buried, and then, the final death.
Being forgotten.
"But you can change that!" He pulls out the photo, and they watch as he hands it across to Miguel. They don't try to grab it or anything, because really what could they do about it? They don't belong.
"This is you?"
"Muy guapo, eh?" They snort, peering across for themself at the photo.
"Muy guapo indeed..." they shake their head, amusement clear on their face. Again they're not really bothering to change much of this conversation, and they just allow themself to zone out slightly, letting it carry on around them. Instead their focus drifts towards the two canines, where they're both sniffing each other curiously. Obi flitting around slightly and Dante happily wriggling.
They're getting along and that's good. So they smile, something distant in their gaze.
Until they're yelping as someone yanks them up by the hood and they're the one being dragged along. They let out a small wheezing attempt at objecting, before they're falling silent when they realize that the one dragging them along is Miguel. Now they're the one getting kidnapped by a twelve year old.
The tables have turned...
"If you can't help us, we'll just find him ourselves."
"Wait, wait, wait! Why do you think I need to find De la Cruz?" They manage to get out as the boy whistles to call Dante over and Obi flits straight to their side. Neither of the dogs seem to care that this isn't normal.
"Okay, okay, kid, fine fine! I'll get you to your great-great grandpa...!" Hector scrambles after them, stumbling slightly and they roll their eyes just slightly. They can see the smirk on Miguel's face, subtle as it is. "And you... Uh, what do you need help with anyway Amiga?"
"Figuring out what I stole to get here in the first place... Can't be Cultural Appropriation apparently... not enough Gringos getting Cursed..." they could imagine the horror movies though. But horror on which side, who would make it, and-
"So... what about you? You get kidnapped by twelve year olds often?" They laugh, because of course he tosses it right back at them.
"Do my siblings count?" They're grinning, even as they exit out into a slightly more pedestrian covered area. It clearly makes the limping skeleton beside them uncomfortable. "But not really, this is the first time really... First time for a lot of things, but well death is an inevitability so-"
"Who are you anyway?" They stumble, caught off guard by the question from Miguel, who's not exactly looking at them, more focused on watching the awkward way that their mutual skeleton companion moves than on them. But the boy still looks up as they stumble, catching their gaze. "I mean, you know who we are, kind of... but... who are you?"
When they register that the kid has asked their name they find themself biting their lip, the running thought of don't do the joke sounding out on repeat in their mind. It's obvious, it would be so easy, they should just introduce themself and not do-
"SOY MILK!" It's far too loud, and excited and there's a beat of silence from both Miguel and Hector before there's a snort.
"That a nickname Chica?"
"Well, you've seen my skin! I'm whiter than white!" they jokingly say with a cheeky grin, before twisting one strap uncomfortable, ready to correct their statement, but before they really can Miguel is moving, excitedly with two dogs following right after. "But really I-"
"Whoa... 'Ernesto De la Cruz's Sunrise Spectacular...!' Qué padre!" The boy excitedly leans on the railing, almost over the railing and there's a flair of protect, protect, don't let him fall as they move, pulling him back slightly as Hector grimaces. They stare at the sign, their own nose wrinkling up as they view it.
For more than just the fact that he's a murderer to.
"Every year, your great-great grandpa puts on that dumb show to mark the end of Día de Muertos." They can hear the subtle tinge of bitterness, and peer over at the skeleton, something flashes through their eyes and Obi lets out a sound from somewhere behind them. And they huff, glancing once more at the huge and showy sign.
"How full of yourself can you be?" they mutter, and ignore the offended exclamation from Miguel. Because really, that is just showing off.
Especially with the way that the sign is designed, a halo from behind. As if he's God's Gift to men... the one who everyone should look up to. The greatest of all time. They find themself poking out their tongue slightly, not truly sticking it out but relatively close anyway.
"And you can get us in!" Miguel ploughs right on ahead, eyes lighting up eagerly, and they can only shake their head as Hector lets out an awkward elongated sound. A sound that they know more than well enough, and not even just from Hector, they're sure that they've made that same sound actually. It's the I'm caught in a lie by someone who overheard and now things are awkward sound.
Usually directed towards eager kids, friends, or just random passers-by who overhead something strange.
As a writer and a creative they're more than familiar with that kind of awkward, how do I explain this kind of sound.
"Hey, you said you had front row tickets!" Miguel's expression shifts and they find themself huffing along with the boy as he places his hands on his hips.
"That... that was a lie. I apologize for that." The awkward small movements, the way that Hector grins in a way that's just slightly too exaggeratedly sheepish. He's not apologetic for that lie at all, not really. And they can only shake their head in amusement as Miguel glares as best he can at him. "Cool off, chamaco, come on... I'll get you to him."
And he pats Miguel's head, cheerfully moving away from them, casually strolling off, one hand on his suspenders. A mirroring motion to their own hands coming up to grasp the straps of their backpack.
"How?" Miguel demands and they can only grin and shake their head, already moving to follow after Hector, already knowing the answer and the destination that they're heading towards.
"'Cause I happen to know where he's rehearsing!" The blithe way he says it, almost in a joking manor and they let out a jerky laugh, nodding their head and grinning as they keep in step with Hector. It's awkward, because they don't really know how far it is, despite knowing where it is... the Arts District, but the movie never showed how they go there.
And they don't know what the Novel did or didn't say about the trip. Still it seems like the trip is going to be mostly in silence so they open their mouth, ready to try again to properly introduce themself.
"So... you don't know why you're here?" Their mouth snaps shut, and they turn slightly to look at Miguel, a frown on their face. "Didn't you... didn't you steal something?" they find themself shrugging.
"Nah, not really Kid..." they know that Hector's listening, but he's focused on their destination. Leading them down the street and through side alleys, keeping them out of sight. "I mean, the best I can say is I followed a path of marigolds from my room, to my own Father's grave... had a breakdown there and then... whoosh... Here!" they splay their hands as they speak, animated as anything. "But hey... life's just like that sometimes you know... one day you're alive and living... and the next your dead and gone."
They pause for a moment, awkwardly clearing their throat and rubbing the back of their head. A nervous almost laugh coming from them.
"Or you know... cursed because you dreamt about some random suitcase..."
"A dream?" Miguel sounds even more skeptical of them now and they let out their own elongated nervous sound.
"Well... that's my second theory on my presence here anyway..." they cough, tugging at their backpack's straps, ears listening for the subtle tearing sound of the broken one, wary of it fully snapping. "Because I can't really explain it..."
"So... you're here because you had a dream about a suitcase?"
"Okay when you put it like that it just sounds more ridiculous..." they huff, and weirdly it's like they can feel the weight of the songbook in their bag. And of course the whispers in their ears. The familiar voice from their dream. "But I dunno kid, could be anything at this point. It's not like getting cursed comes with a guidebook you know... And I'm sure being dead doesn't, does it mate?"
"Ehh?" Hector gives a quick glance back to them, catches their expression and they can practically feel the eye-roll. "No, not really. Or if it does I never got given it."
"Look see, but that's life, and death!" they say, before noticing that Hector's slowing down. By what looks to be a warehouse, they step up sort of just beside him as he leans back judging the distance. There's a subtle nod, and he pops his arm off, rests it against the straps of his suspenders and with what has to be practiced ease, he shoots it up to the window above them.
They watch as his hand knocks on the window, before bouncing slightly to the side as it's more or less shoved open, maybe a little less violently. His arm is scooped up and used to point down at him and they find themself grinning at the shout. Before that grin quickly drops away, because well... they could have changed that for him... at the very least.
They were right there, it would have been just a matter of going the other way for a quick moment, or two.
"You better have my dress, Hector!"
"Hola Ceci!"
They join Hector in darting out of the way as the ladder is lowered. A small yelp escaping their mouth before they awkwardly swallow. Watching as Miguel and Hector both clamber up the fire escape. They're hesitant to follow, a prickling feeling at their back, but Obi lets out a yap, and bounds up, following after Dante.
They don't have a disguise like Miguel, but... they're here now. They'll just have to face it. So up they climb.