Isabela laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling high above her, the conversation she had overheard during Antonio's gift ceremony playing out repeatedly in her head. A conversation between Senora Guzman and Abuela, about her and Mariano, getting married. She had only caught a little bit of the conversation, but it was enough to know that Mariano was going to propose to Isabela soon. She should be excited to learn that she was going to get married, especially to Mariano, who was the most eligible bachelor in Encanto. He was perfect, she was perfect. The family was happy, Abuela was happy... so why couldn't she be happy?

Why did she feel like she was trapped, a mere puppet to the community, to the family, to Abuela? Why did everyone else in Encanto have a say on how she lived her life besides her? Just why, why? Why did she have to smile and exchange small talk with people that needed to be slapped silly and told to grow up and deal with their own problems instead of crying to her padres and tios for help?

Why did she have to think first of the community, and then of the family, and never of herself?

Everyone called her perfect. Everyone. Tio Felix called her an angel just that afternoon. Maybe an angel of the devil. She wasn't perfect. If she was perfect, she wouldn't be feeling like she was drowning on dry land. If she was perfect, she would want to put the community and her family first. Only a selfish person would complain about never having any time for themselves. Only a horrible person would be jealous of her hermanita, would bully her. Only someone completely mad would not want to marry Mariano. He was sweet and kind and...

Being around him made Isabela want to gag... It was like being stuck in one of those sappy romances that Tia Pepa and Dolores love so much, the ones that Luisa would absolutely love should she ever find a minute to read one.

Isabela pulled her pillow over her head and let out a frustrated scream, if only Tio Bruno's prophecy would just kick in and take effect. Please, pretty please, with a cherry on top?

She had been promised the life of her dreams, but now, now she was on a one-way trip to her worst nightmare. Married to a man she didn't love, forced to have children she didn't want, forced to be someone she wasn't twenty-four seven, not even having the option to let the mask down in her own room.

What could she do? What could she possibly do to manage to reclaim her life, make Tio Bruno's prophecy come true?

She giggled to herself; she was probably the only one who ever wanted to have one of Tio Bruno's prophecies come true.

She had to do something to put an end to her romance with Mariano. It would have to be so big that Abuela won't be able to fix it, and she'll have to act fast too, if she knew her Abuela. Abuela would want this deal done and signed before anything horrible could happen.

How can she do that? She had always toed the line, kept Abuela happy. She didn't know how to make her mad at her. Did she really want her mad at her?

If it meant having the life of her dreams and not being married to Mariano, it might be worth it. But how was she going to do that?

Isabela could only think of one person in all Encanto who has ever, ever, truly gotten on Abuela's bad side, okay two, but no one talks about Bruno. Mirabel, if anyone knew how to mess things up completely, it would be Mirabel.

Mirabel could help her prevent the wedding; she'll be perfect for it. She was always messing something up anyway. Why not use it to her advantage?

Except for the fact that her relationship with Mirabel wasn't the greatest. Okay, maybe it was the worst it could possibly get. She was pretty sure that the silent treatment would be an improvement from the insults and jabs she constantly made against her and her lack of a gift.

Mirabel might not help her. She wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

Then again, Mirabel might help her, after all she was her hermana, right?

On the other hand, she might promise to help her and then make things worse, she usually did. Or worse, she could humiliate her in front of the Encanto, just like she had been.

That didn't solve her problem though, and Mirabel wasn't just her best option, she was her only option, if she went to anyone else, say Mama or Papa, they'd try talking to Abuela and nothing would be done. Her only option was Mirabel.

Isabela lowered her bed down to the ground, jumping off her bed. She didn't even bother with robe and slippers even though Abuela would flip if she wasn't decent outside of her room. Then again, why should she care, she wanted Abuela mad at her.

…

It was late at night, close to one in the morning, and Mirabel Madrigal had finally allowed herself to do the one thing she had wanted to do all day, break down. She was lying flat on her stomach, her face buried in her pillow, her feet sticking out ten inches from the base of her bed, her thread bare blanket barely covering her from chest to knees, the rest of her body exposed, as she sobbed and let out her pent-up emotions from the day. In the dead of night, when no one can hear her. So that she wouldn't be a burden on the rest of the family.

Then a hand touched her out of nowhere, and her secret was out.

…

No sooner had Isabela stepped out of her room did the doubts started to plague her. What was she doing? Was she really going to ruin her relationship with her Abuela over a boy?

She paused for a second, before nodding her head, yes, yes, she was, she wanted to be happy, she deserved to be happy.

She continued her march towards the nursery when another thought came to her. It was the middle of the night, Mirabel was probably asleep, she shouldn't wake her.

She didn't know that for sure, and she wanted to get this over with before she could talk herself out of it, before she lost her courage.

Did she really want to wake Mirabel up in the middle of the night after teasing her all day just to burden her with her problems? She really shouldn't do this. Maybe she could write Mirabel a note explaining what's going on, asking her for her help, and then just slip it underneath the door.

Isabela paused right outside the nursery door, about ready to turn around and head back to her room when she heard it. The sound of someone crying their heart out in the nursery.

The door swung open without a sound, and Isabela peered in. Mirabel was on her bed, head buried in her pillow, a blanket, so worn that she could see the batting in several places, barely covering her chest and half her legs, Legs that were dangling a foot off the edge of the bed, and Mirabel was sobbing as hard as anyone Isabela ever saw cry before.

Isabela was across the room before she could even think about what she was doing, reaching out and laying a hand on Mirabel's shoulder.

Mirabel bolted upright, staring at her with red, bloodshot eyes that squinted at her, "I'm fine," she insisted, angrily wiping at her eyes before grabbing her glasses and slamming them on her face, blinking a couple of times to get them to focus.

Mirabel's face drained of color when she saw who was standing in front of her, Isabela. What was she doing in the nursery in the middle of the night. The only way that this could be worse would be if it had been Abuela that found her.

"What do you want?" Mirabel asked coldly.

"I need your help," Isabela blurted out, "I know that I haven't been the best hermana in the world, heck I wouldn't be surprised if I was the worst hermana in all of existence. But I promise you, if you help me, I'll be a better hermana, I'll help you with your hair, I'll teach you about make-up, I'll talk boys, I'll do whatever you want me to do, just please you need to help me."

Mirabel groaned, pulling herself up into a proper sitting position, "You sound desperate," she admitted, glancing at her alarm clock as she opened her nightstand drawer, "You must be desperate to come to me at one in the morning."

"I am, I really am," Isabela insisted, "Please say that you'll help me?"

"Ten pesos, up front," Mirabel announced, grabbing something from her nightstand and closing the drawer.

"What?"

"I'm mend your dress, but you'll have to pay ten pesos up front," Mirabel announced, "and another ten once I'm done with it. You said you'll do whatever I want if you help me, and I need more fabric. Therefore, I need money, so twenty pesos, what do you say?"

"I don't need a dress fixed," Isabela protested.

Mirabel shot her a look, putting her sewing kit back in her drawer, "Then why did you wake me up at one in the morning? The only thing besides sewing that I'm good at is messing everything up."

"One, I didn't wake you up, you were awake," Isabela announced, frowning as she remembered finding her sister crying, "And two, that's the thing that I need help with. I need help messing up my relationship with Mariano."

"You want me to mess up your relationship with Mariano?" Mirabel asked, "Umm, now would be a good time for me to explain that I don't go about purposely messing things up, that just happens. Besides, why would you want me to ruin your relationship with Mariano in the first place?"

"Because Abuela wants me to marry him, but I don't want to. He makes me want to scream. He..." Isabela trailed off letting out a frustrated scream as she strangled the air in front of her, "Tio Bruno promised me that I'll have the life of my dreams. If I marry Mariano, that life will never be mine. I don't want that. I need to break free. I need to stop caring what Abuela thinks and start living my own life. You've done that. Please help me."

Mirabel looked up sharply, "Why should I help you get the life you want when I was denied mine?"