Shoe pick up was a couple weeks later (the Riveras had been backlogged with orders) and Héctor had another problem. Chicharrón had come for his femur! He'd already known the time in which he could get away with having stolen it was limited, but...now what was he supposed to do! He couldn't show back up with a different femur than the one he'd previously had! The one what was his femur!

Sure...the rest of him had been him too...behind disguise...but...

The faded skeleton groaned again to think of it, but...there was nothing for it. He had to make the best of this. At least his neighbor from India was alright with him borrowing the get up for an extended amount of time. Also, despite his hesitancy about it, he was required to bring along the fiddler-talent-agent (per his assigned role) since as a well known artist he could not go too many times and endure the hassle of not-speaking without his translator of sorts as well.

All made up facts to aid a made up role, and a big part of Héctor inwardly shook his head again. They are all just self-important jerks! Artists! Musicians! Yourself included...

Héctor was pulled from his thoughts after knocking once more at the Rivera doorway by noticing his companion fidgeting. "Stop that!", he spared a hisses set of words, and lightly smacked the other's hand as he went to chew nails he didn't have anymore.

The other shook his head, "This isn't going to...".

"Shh!", off some instinct, Héctor knew right before the door was opened that it would be, and put on his act of Self Important Artist, motioning to his companion to get 'in character' too. Only the fiddler didn't know what his character was! So he did his best neutral. It seemed everyone but Imelda was taking turns on answering the door, this time it was Julio, "Hola Senor Khan", he gestured to inside the Rivera household and shop yet again. The second time Héctor had been allowed in, though they of course didn't know it.

Soon enough, he wouldn't have to hide...

Well if he continued to play this right.

Héctor nudged the fiddler to remind him he should be saying words, then took in what he could of it all yet again as Julio lead him and his companion to the parlor. "Ah, yes, I am Mr. Khan's agent", the fiddler said, giving a short bow, "So sorry I couldn't come earlier, but you know how it is, when you manage so many". If the musician had one thing going for him and this ruse, and free-styling in it, he could make up manager jargon, having either dealt with or sought them out.

Héctor smiled inwardly, half impressed, this was going to work!

"Er, yes, of course...", Julio was trying to pretend he did know about the world of managing 'talent', though thanks to Mama Imelda's rule he knew nothing on artist whatsoever! Not until they had decided to take this client.

Speaking of Mama Imelda, she came out once more to greet and update, as was her duty with customers and as the head of the business, especially as she heard a new voice (not the one of the artist saving his!).

"Um, my mother-in-law, Imelda Rivera", Julio introduced, and gave Héctor a small clue to who was who, or who he was. Mother-in-law?! So assuming she hadn't ever remarried (that thought, and to even consider it stung so hard!) Coco had married?! Well but of course she had!

Héctor subtly turned to glance the boy-young-old! man-over as he should have done before and when Coco first brought him home, though he knew he would have been the least harsh of him and Imelda on the then boy, no matter how things had gone...

The supposed Mr. Khan turned his gaze back over to Imelda once more and semi-watching the fiddler still try to keep up this charade, but mostly watching her.

"Yes, well, here you are Mr. Khan", Imelda nodded to the artist, albeit almost begrudgingly, though it hardly showed unless one knew her, as Héctor did, and handed over a box that put a further nail to the coffin (horrible statement perhaps!) of reasons to come over. Ah well, again, he could work with that. With a small bow himself befitting character, Héctor took the box, and used the slight option to seem rude (but then he was a very important artists and they would do that) and open the box, semi-inspecting the shoes, though really he was just trying to think up further reasons to stay. There weren't any, of course.

Imelda merely straightened and awaited, it was customary for customers to inspect the wares they were buying, though she couldn't help being a bit annoyed at the time he took about it! Mr. Khan then glanced up. "Will there be anything else?", was Imelda's way of asking if everything was alright and up to par. the artist nodded again, that all was fine. Closing the box, he then went to incline his head in another bow towards her...but forgot himself and his role, and this time when he went to right his turban it wasn't unnoticed or enough.

Héctor saw Imelda stiffen suspiciously. He could still pass this off though...

With both hands still holding his turban in place, Héctor gave another quick nod and shuffled towards the door, while the fiddler just stood, unsure and undecided in the entryway of the Rivera shop, and Julio slightly baffled. "Wait a second...", Imelda stormed forward, and by her manner, Héctor could tell she didn't think she was about to insult some important artist...

He might have tried to stop it, if he could think how. The matriarch of the Rivera Zapateria marched up and, in a swift move with costumes for once, swiped both turban and false beard and stared almost disbelieving. Héctor grimaced and waved feebly with one hand, "I-Imelda hi...".

The fiddler, in clear co-conspirator motive, bolted out the still open door, giving no explanation or excuse and disappearing down the street before he could be questioned or asked anything by either the irate woman or confused squat man. Julio still slowly swung the door closed behind him, before turning to his mother-in-law. "Um...Mama Imelda...".

"No-one", Imelda answered the unasked in icy tones that she saw stung Héctor, but didn't care. "Get back to the shop" she said distractedly to her son-in-law. Julio shuffled off.

Héctor had fully righted himself and discarded his costume, his tattered clothes from underneath visible once more, and the fancy turban and tunic in a pile. "Imelda...", he began again, "I...", but he was cut off again, and Imelda swiped the box back.

"You...waste my material...and time!", Imelda pointed fiercely with her other hand.

"I didn't...no...that was real money the fiddler gave you...mine, and you don't have to give back a...", Héctor rushed.

"Fiddler! You hauled another musician into my home after your sorry...".

"I couldn't find anyone else!"

"Not surprising!"

This conversation of irate and flurried, desperate tones was silence once more as Imelda suddenly turned after her last shot. "Get out".

"Imelda please, let me explain why...".

"I said out! Julio should have left the door open", still without turning, Imelda pointed, but Héctor detected something new in her voice (well probably not new, not since '21), she was on the verge of tears and holding it in. Oscar and Felipe were probably the only other people who could detect it.

Héctor stood there, fidgeting, unsure, but yet again his words were stolen. He muttered something that was probably an apology and, scooping up the costume, walked over and opened the door before pausing. Standing hesitant in the doorway. Imelda noticed what she'd done too late. She hadn't meant to...

She'd done this before...they both had. His pausing put it into clearer definition.

And just like decades before, Imelda stiffened, but didn't turn. Given the spell, she expected Héctor to sigh once more and leave, like he had in 1921, so when he didn't...when she heard words out of him, she became unstuck.

"Imelda I only meant...".

A shoe clanged against the door-frame, barely missing him! He took the hint...and breathing heavily, Imelda watched the empty path a bit before walking forward to retrieve her shoe.

A/N: If Héctor's smart, that'll be that, but I don't think he is :D