Chapter 14

First Performance

The ride wasn't long, as they soon reached the plaza.

Just after they climbed down the life-saving scooter, a familiar bark alerted them.

"Dante!"

Dante all but pounced on Miguel, nearly throwing him off his feet. He laughed, scratching the dog behind his ears playfully.

"Looks like someone had a great time," Héctor grinned from afar, closing the distance.

Rosa almost wanted to hug him. If he only knew what they'd just done…

His wise words from earlier echoed in her mind, reducing the audacity that had soared minutes ago, Be grateful for everything you have, especially your family.

I am grateful, she silently encouraged herself, it's their fault that they don't understand us.

Héctor's face turned solemn, and he studied them with vigilant eyes. "Are you two alright? Did that alebrije hurt you?"

"No," Miguel answered. "It carried us for some time, but we managed to escape."

His head then turned towards the plaza, where music and cheers ruled the area. Rosa felt just as invigorated by the bouncy rhythms and zestful tunes. She skipped after Miguel, entering the eye-catching place.

For once, she was truly free to listen to music. Nobody from their family could see her here. Nobody would chastise her for stepping out of line.

Finally, her dream came true. It didn't matter to her that it wasn't going to last long. No, all that mattered was now.

Plaza de la Cruz wasn't much different than the plaza they had at home. Ernesto's statue holding his signature guitar overlooked a large stage decorated with sizeable blue cardboard stars; the sole difference regarding the statue was that the musician had been built in his skeletal form.

A plethora of strings of brightly-coloured papel picado were dangling over the whole plaza. Fireworks were erupting above groups of joyous dancers who were pirouetting, the women swaying the folds of their long colourful skirts. Twinkling children of all ages were trotting with sparklers above their heads, leaving a trail of distinct smell after them. Vendors were stimulating passers-by with their abundant merchandise while food sellers were in a frenzy, spurred into busily shifting behind their stalls by the customers who wanted to treat themselves with sweet drinks and luscious traditional Mexican fare.

Music was everywhere. It almost seemed to have been rooted in this place while jubilation was clearly embedded here. A place where nobody was fretting or plagued by their usual troubles, instead somewhere people were able to openly enjoy themselves.

Rosa stopped shortly to admire some pairs of glimmering leather shoes, but after that, hunger kicked in when her eyes landed on conchas, churros, buñuelos, chamoyadas and many more items of confectionery.

Miguel was fighting the same battle, his lips parted ever so slightly as he goggled at the varieties of food.

"¿Tenéis hambre, chicos?"

Héctor's question found them unprepared.

Being on the run, Rosa hadn't realised how hungry they both were. But neither wished to waste more time, which resulted in a wailed "No!" from each of them.

Yet the man had already noticed what he'd needed to. His eyes darted around, quickly spotting a vendor whose goods he reckoned worthy. He began rummaging through the tiny inside pockets of his vest.

"Héctor, let's just go! We don't need any food." Miguel pulled on his arm to keep him from advancing, making a guilty bite of his lower lip.

"You already have little money as it is," Rosa strengthened.

"You need energy to perform." A half-smile crossed the skeleton's face. "A few pesos, especially for a cause like yours, will be well spent."

With that, he approached the chosen stall, Miguel and Rosa accompanying him reluctantly.

"Hey, Héctor! How have you been, amigo? Haven't seen you in a while," the male skeleton who was certainly the vendor firmly shook Héctor's hand.

"I've been better than this, but gracias, Juan!" He responded with an amiable smile. He then gestured to the young Riveras to come closer. "I have two talented kids here, they're about to perform. Say, Rosa, Miguel, what would you like?"

The cousins looked at each other, Miguel speaking first, "I'd like some churros, por favor."

"I'll take some conchas."

"Could you please give us a discount, señor?" The boy put on his best puppy eyes, the girl immediately joining him.

Héctor's eyes widened. The other man ceased filling the two plastic plates for a moment, but his face then broke into a grin. He chuckled.

"For two musicians, it'll be on the house!"

Rosa's jaw dropped and Miguel beamed, his eyes bulging out as he handed them the plates filled to the rim.

"You eat well, kiddos. You'll need strength. And good luck!"

"Thank you!"

"Take care, amigo," Héctor shook his hand once more.

"You too, Héctor."

They left, heading towards the stage, Miguel and Rosa enjoying the sweet meal.

"Abuelita would never let us eat these without proper food first."

"Good thing she's not here," she giggled through bites.

Miguel suddenly became serious, and he mumbled something in her ear. She instantly nodded.

She already felt bad enough that she didn't have a single peso to pay Héctor back (Never leave home without money! she mentally noted), so since he'd been set to buy them something, the least they could do was share with him.

They both extended their arms with the plates towards Héctor, who had been watching them eat fondly.

"No, muchachos. I needn't eat often, I'm a skeleton."

"Oh, really?" Miguel sassed.

"When was the last time you ate, then?" Rosa put her hand on her hip.

Héctor's expression turned bland, "Last night."

"Yeah, sure. Here, take this," Miguel literally forced a few churros in his hand, Rosa doing the same with two of her conchas. The man eyed them in a way that made him look like he was overwhelmed with emotion. He slowly put a churro in his mouth under the intense gazes of the kids.

She frowned, "Why did you refuse? Juan was a little too generous with us anyway. We can't eat all of these."

The vendor had placed no less than six conchas on her plate, while Miguel had needed to be careful so as not to slope the contents of the plate before starting to feast.

"Okay, okay! I'll eat!" Héctor gave in. "You happy now?"

"Very!" she smirked.

Dante wailed, glancing up at Miguel with big eyes. Now those were true puppy eyes!

"Sorry, boy," Miguel scratched him behind the ears and on his neck, "but sugar isn't good for you."

The dog renounced his pleas in understanding after a couple more barks.

"Take it easy, chamaco! You're gonna throw up if you keep chewing that fast," Héctor warned, the boy's hand freezing with a churro on the way to his mouth.

Miguel made a face, grabbing two more churros to stuff his mouth. Héctor shook his head, pinching his side lightheartedly, making him squeal. That got Miguel to throw a churro in his face, which reached its target, namely Héctor's forehead; the churro fell to the ground, where it was quickly munched by Dante.

Rosa half expected the skeleton to give Miguel a scolding, that being what Elena or Berto would have done, but she was surprised when he didn't.

"Hey!" Héctor fixed his hat, a sly glint in his gaze. "You wanna play, chamaco? Okay, let's play!"

He took the plate out of his hand, shocking both of them.

"Rosa, will you hold this for me, please?" He asked, his gaze still pointed at Miguel, who was stone-still before him.

She did so just as Héctor's plan dawned upon her. A moment later, her cousin caught up as well, but it was too late.

Héctor's hands had rushed to clasp around Miguel's midriff to prevent him from escaping, his fingers now wiggling on his sides. The boy broke out into full-blown laughter, even though he was only being prodded lightly.

The girl was laughing along, making efforts not to spill the plates.

"Rosa, help me!"

"My hands are full, primo. Save yourself!" she smirked, relishing the sight before her.

Miguel twisted, trying to curl into a ball on the ground, only for Héctor - who was having the time of his afterlife - to intensify his attack a little, igniting shrill laughter out of him.

"Alright, sorry! I'm sorry! Please, stop!" he begged, tears sparkling in his eyes.

Héctor, the understanding and gentle soul that he was, placed him back onto the ground, but not before squeezing his side one last time.

"Next time you listen to me, chamaco. Or I won't be so lenient with you."

Miguel swatted his hands away, the last giggles pouring from his mouth as he regained his breath and dried his tears. When he noticed Rosa, he placed a hand over his chest.

"Traitor," he said in mock heartbreak, causing her snickers to escalate for a few moments before they finally went out.

As they set out again, Miguel put as much distance as he could between him and their guide while still staying close to his prima. When Rosa offered him his plate, he refused, stating that he could eat no more. Héctor in particular found that funny.

Yet the girl also felt full. The skeleton didn't make out what she said to her relative, nor did he grasp why he nodded at her, but he soon understood.

It warmed his soul when he saw them give the sweets they couldn't finish to some of the exuberant younger children who were playing hopscotch in the middle of the street. Needless to say, the little ones were charmed.

At long last, they reached the blazing stage, where the emcee, a woman in a glittering dress and impressive hairdo greeted the vast audience: "¡Bienvenidos a todos! Who's ready for some música?"

The crowd cheered in response.

"It's the battle of the bands, amigos," the lady continued. "The winner gets to play for the maestro himself. Ernesto de la Cruz, at his fiesta tonight! Let the competition begin!"

"That's our ticket, muchachos!" Héctor pointed out in time with the excitable people's clapping.

They went backstage, where several performers were rehearsing for the show one last time. Héctor guided them to the stage manager, a pretty-looking lady with silky black hair and huge hoop earrings. She was holding a clipboard with a dozen papers on it, which she kept making ticks on.

"Perdonamos, señora," Héctor doffed his hat at her, and she was taken aback before her face broke into a smile.

"¿Sí, señor?"

"We'd like to sign up for the contest," he gestured to his protégés.

She scanned them, her face being crossed by a shadow of rue, patently believing them dead. A soft smile appeared.

"The sign-ups are no longer open."

Their hope dropped.

"But," she raised her index, "I'll make an exception for you two."

Rosa's brows went up close to her hairline. Why was everyone making exceptions for them tonight? Of course, she didn't complain, but it was weird. Were they treated with more kindness than adult skeletons because dead children were a pitiful sight? In the Land of the Living, one couldn't obtain a discount that easily, and the rules surrounding contests and performing were strict.

"Name or stage name?" the lady broke her out of her musing.

Miguel glanced at her; she nodded in consent.

They'd agreed upon the stage name "Delacruzcitos", even though Rosa disliked it, feeling like it lacked originality, but she'd kept her mouth shut for the sake of not disrupting her cousin's exhilaration.

"Delacruzcitos," Miguel chirped, grinning.

"You really wanna meet Ernesto, don't you?" the woman's teeth glistened.

They both affirmed, although Rosa did it with less energy.

"Stay around, you'll be called on stage once the former last number will have finished. Give your best, niños!"

They thanked her and headed towards the area right behind the curtains.

"So, what's the plan? What are you gonna play?" Héctor eagerly rubbed his hands.

"What do you say, Rosa? "Remember Me"?"

"Yes!"

She might not have been a huge fan of de la Cruz like Miguel was, but she couldn't deny the beauty of that particular song; she loved it, surprisingly, even though she didn't love de la Cruz. Amongst all of Ernesto's creations, "Remember Me" was definitely the most beautiful.

But Héctor looked unconvinced. Miguel only got to play the first notes on the guitar when the instrument was snatched from him.

"No! Not that one. No."

"Come on, it's his most popular song!" the boy argued.

"Argh, it's too popular!" Héctor gestured around to support his words.

A short man was playing the ukulele belting out the same lyrics, a couple were singing it in opera style while another man was tapping on multiple glasses' rims to create the tune.

Héctor smirked at Miguel in a knowing way; the boy toyed with his hands.

"Umm… What about "Poco Loco"?"

"Epa! Now that's a song!"

"Delacruzcitos, you're on standby. Los Chachalacos, you're up next!" the stagehand announced.

Rosa and Miguel watched in amazement as an eight-membered band dressed in matching purple outfits walked up on stage with their various instruments. The crowd was already cheering when they started their number, in contrast to the reactions they'd had regarding the previous performers, when they'd been poker-faced and unimpressed.

Miguel was growing more worried with every one of the band's well-executed notes as he peeked at them over the curtain.

"Look at the public. They're so enlivened! What if they won't root for us the way they're doing for these talented guys?"

He was so much like the fearful boy who had been unsure he'd ever be able to perform a year ago on the same night.

Rosa draped an arm around his shoulders. "Don't think that way, primo. We'll do really well! We've listened to "Poco Loco" plenty of times, and your guitar skills have improved. We've come a long way, especially you."

"Yeah, I hope so."

Héctor was fixing a strap to the old guitar. "Are you always this nervous before a performance?"

Miguel sighed, "I don't know. We've never performed before."

"What?!" he exploded. "You said you were musicians!"

"We are! I mean we will be. Once we win."

Héctor groaned, straining the brims of his straw hat. "That's your plan? No, no, no, no, no, you have to win, chicos! Your lives literally depend on you winning! And you've never done this before?! I'll go up there!"

He stretched for the guitar, but Miguel tugged it out of his reach. Rosa felt bad for actually considering - even if only for a split moment - to allow him to go on stage in their place. She pushed the guilt aside.

"No, no, no! We need to do this! Right, prima?"

"¡Por supuesto!"

"Why?" Héctor cried out.

Miguel shrugged, "I'm talking for myself here. Basically, if I can't go out there and play one song, how can I call myself a musician?"

"Why does that matter?!"

"Because I don't just wanna get de la Cruz's blessing. I need to prove that… that I'm worthy of it."

Rosa's stomach churned; she gave him a one-armed hug, her thumb caressing his shoulder. "Miguel… Why would you ever think that you - or I - wouldn't be worth the blessing? We are! We're his great-great grandchildren, come on! Have a little faith!"

Her cousin looked down in his lap, absent-mindedly plucking the strings of the guitar. "Because he's a big musician, and I'm a lowly nobody. No offence, but you know I'm right about this."

Rosa didn't care much about meeting Ernesto (except for the part when they could receive his blessing and be able to continue living with music), but if de la Cruz would crush her cousin's dreams, if he so much as dared to reject Miguel, - not her - then she would personally take care of him with an admirably crafted shoe.

Héctor was staring at them contemplatively before breaking out of his trance and reaching with his index to lift Miguel's chin.

"Well, he once was just that, remember? And you shouldn't feel the need to prove it, chamaco. It's not good to compare yourself to him; you're only at the start of your journey, while he's had decades of practice. And that applies to both of you. Focus on your skills and your improvements."

"Uh-huh," the boy responded, still writhing in dejection.

La Muerte forbid that you ruin this child's hopes, Ernesto, Héctor thought. You did what you did to me, but don't make him feel awful.

"And one more thing," he eyed them more solemnly this time. "Before you perform, imagine that the crowd is actually just one person, someone whom you love with all your heart, and then you sing to them from the bottom of your heart."

"Who do you remember?" Miguel questioned dreamily.

A small smile played on Héctor lips, "My daughter. Every time I sing, I pour all my love into every note, hoping my voice will cross over the marigold bridge and reach her, if only in her dreams."

That's so beautiful! The girl's heart melted. Her cousin was equally touched by the confession.

"Now, think about that special person, chicos. You don't have to tell me who it is, but imagine that they're here with you."

Rosa instantly knew. The only person who'd ever supported her when it came to music, who had gone to the end of the earth to help her… It was a little weird to envision herself playing for Miguel, when he'd be playing along with her, but she wouldn't have pictured anybody else.

Miguel contemplated for a good minute before his gaze flicked to her, the corner of his mouth raising. No doubt, Mamá Coco was the first who appeared in his mind, as she'd been the only family member who had listened to him vent endlessly about his passion for music, but Rosa followed immediately after. Now that he thought more clearly about it, the fact that he'd get to perform with his cousin was a dream come true; he wouldn't have wanted his first performance to take place without her. Maybe Mamá Coco wasn't there, but Rosa was, and that gave him enough strength. Someone from his family was here with him.

"Héctor, you said you used to perform," Rosa meekly spoke to him. "Were you ever as edgy as us?"

"All the time, chiquita. All the time. You get accustomed to the sensation after a while, but it never leaves you. It's not even a good thing if it leaves you; that would mean that you've lost your passion, that you've grown numb to the beauty of your art, which is every artist's worst nightmare."

They pondered over his words. He did seem to be experienced in the field of music and what it involved!

"If you want to perform, then you have to perform!" he suddenly exclaimed, trying to hearten them. His jovial tone got their attention. "First, you have to loosen up! Shake off those nerves!"

He shimmied, his bones rattling and his head doing a wild backflip before landing back onto his neck. The kids followed his example, shaking their arms in an exaggerated manner, but without the head part. He nodded, pleased.

"Now give me your best grito!"

The cousins eyed each other, puzzled.

"Grito?" Miguel arched an eyebrow.

"Come on, yell! Belt it out!"

Héctor spun around, releasing his most carefree shout in quite some time.

"Ha! Feels good! Okay, now you!" He invited them.

"I'm not doing that in public," the girl firmly refused, crossing her arms.

Miguel, on the other hand, let out the most agonizing cry, frightening them and Dante, who cowered behind a grimacing Héctor. Rosa face-slapped, chortling.

"Nice try, primo! You got it out!"

"At least I tried, genia!" he stuck his tongue out at her, and she rolled her eyes, scoffing amusedly.

Out of nowhere, the crowd erupted in raucous applause after the last notes played by the band on-stage came to an end in an energetic blow of the leading musician's trumpet.

Rosa's heartbeat picked up as the stagehand called them.

Miguel shakily put the strap of the guitar over his left shoulder, his fingers clutching the fretboard of the instrument as they neared the stage. His breath rhythm was close to hyperventilation; Rosa squeezed his hand for fear that he might collapse right then and there. As for her, her teeth were rattling, while she repeatedly had to wipe her palms on her pants.

"We'll do great, Miguel," she tried to imbue him with positivity with the words she found next to impossible to believe at the moment.

Héctor's bony fingers were clutching their shoulders. The gesture didn't have much of the intended effect on either of the young Riveras.

"Miguel! Rosa! Hey, hey! Look at me!" He snapped his fingers and gazed into their eyes; his were warm with comfort.

Funny how a guy they'd met only a few hours prior seemed to believe in them with all his heart when they didn't believe in themselves one bit!

Now, Rosa understood why Miguel had refused to perform the year before. Performing was absolutely terrifying! She briefly wondered how she had dreamt about playing the violin for years, but hadn't even once considered needing to face stage fright.

"You can do this! Grab their attention and don't let it go!" Héctor pushed them up onto the stage, the girl almost tripping on the stairs.

"Héctor…" Miguel pleaded with him.

"Make 'em listen, chicos! You got this!"

The emcee announced their presence, making Rosa's heart hammer more wildly. They advanced to the front of the stage, the spotlights momentarily blinding them. Since the stage was elevated, the crowd needed to peer up at them, which made things all the more intimidating.

The silence was deafening. Rosa felt stripped to the bone, her body much warmer than before. Miguel backed away from the microphone that emitted a scratching sound from his hitching breath. His arms were quavering, while she felt her legs start giving out. The public mumbled in impatience, someone clamouring for something indistinguishable to them.

Out of the corner of their eyes, they spotted Héctor's apprehensive yet still encouraging face as he did the shimmy again and opened his mouth wide as if he were going to yell.

They had to do something! They couldn't just stay frozen like that onto the stage with what looked like over one hundred spectators.

Miguel let out a sedate soothing breath, and she followed his example. He glanced at her, silently mouthing to three before they released equally strong, high-pitched shrieks in unison. To their amazement, the audience clapped a little, a couple of skeletons whistling and even shouting back.

Héctor had been right! It did help to shout your nerves out.

Miguel signalled to her as he lifted his arm and played the first notes of the song, Rosa holding the mic closer.

What colour is the sky?

Ay mi amor, ay mi amor

You tell me that it's red

Ay mi amor, ay mi amor!

Their voices blended together harmoniously. Their confidence increased with every beat and uplifting looks at each other.

Enthusiasm spread over the audience like ripples, making them more animated with every lyric. Miguel picked up the tempo,

Where should I put my shoes?

Ay mi amor, ay mi amor

You say put them on your head!

Ay mi amor, ay mi amor!

Rosa was beaming by this point; she had never felt so much freedom, so much bliss before, not even the first time she'd been to Mariachi Plaza. She'd never honestly believed she could ever perform, let alone have an impromptu, unrehearsed duet.

She began twirling and swinging as gracefully as she could in sync with her cousin, her arms describing spirals.

The audience were clapping their hands in eager anticipation.

You make me un poco loco

Un poqui-ti-ti-to loco

The way you keep me guessing

I'm nodding and I'm yes-ing

I'll count it as a blessing

That I'm only un poco loco!

They raised their voices to pull off the higher, longer note.

Gone were the worries and the suffering while she marvelled at how well she could sing; her voice had a tender yet strong note. She'd only hummed before, and while she'd had the amazing opportunity to hear Miguel sing many times - albeit quietly - she'd never sung herself.

Now, she'd do anything to never have to stop, to make the feeling of being like a drifting feather last forever. She'd forgotten all about the curse and the transformation.

Miguel was shining next to her, his voice poised and delightful, both of them radiating like stars in the night sky. His guitar skills had enhanced a great deal, as he played with ease, not needing to look much at the instrument.

The crowd cheered with unbridled exaltation when Dante tugged a smiling Héctor onto the stage with them. First, he had an unsure countenance, but it rapidly melted away when the kids stepped back to give him space to do his quick, percussive footwork. Rosa's elation swelled when she identified the zapateado dance. He seemed to be doing it effortlessly, just the way he'd played the guitar earlier, his moves faultless.

How many more cool things could he do that they still had no idea about?

"Not bad for a dead guy!" Miguel joked.

Héctor smiled lopsidedly, "You're not so bad yourselves, niños! ¡Eso!"

Miguel joined Héctor's tap dancing as well as he could, given that he was also in charge of the sole instrument of their performance. His coordination was stupendous!

Rosa's heart wanted to leap, her entire body bursting with energy and elation. There were no more nerves, no more fear, no more hiding, only their passion.

I wanna do this more often, she leaned in to whisper in Miguel's ear during the interlude. He grinned, Who says we can't?

The crowd was wild, applauding rhythmically and cheering louder than they had at any of the other numbers. Héctor suddenly took Rosa's hand to twirl her several times. She laughed, matching the lively beat with steady taps of her feet and graceful movements of her arms, all while Miguel watched fondly.

Héctor took the lead in singing,

The loco that you make me

It is just un poco crazy

The sense that you're not making…

He passed the lyrics to them for a line before they continued together,

The liberties you're taking

Leaves my cabeza shaking

You are just un poco loco!

Fuller of life than ever before, the young Riveras yelled multiple times alongside Héctor, following his lead. In the background, Dante howled.

It felt as if the whole universe was laughing along with them. Music had penetrated the entirety of their bodies. Upon reaching their souls, it had established itself in their deepest of senses and feelings. The world seemed to have stopped at the best moment possible.

The cheers, applause and shouts dimmed out, Rosa drowning out the ambiance, focusing lovingly on her spirited primo.

Miguel was the utter embodiment of passion, talent and liveliness. His perseverance in learning music couldn't have shone through in any better way. The way he sang and danced his heart out were the perfect depiction of what he'd been born for.

Whatever last remnants of bitterness he'd still carried towards her were history. Rosa's heart was drunk on happiness, now knowing for certain that the music which had been running through their blood forever would never flicker and die. It would never be quieted down by any word of their family, nor by anybody else. It was a great part of them; it would never ever leave them.

Héctor started circling around them; they immediately mirrored his moves while keeping their gazes fixed on him.

Un poqui-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-to loco!

Héctor hauled each of them off the ground, holding them onto his arms. As Miguel played the final notes, the skeleton held each child on his shoulders, Rosa briefly marvelling at his strength. She and Miguel let out one final grito, more exuberant and an octave higher than any of the ones before.

The audience broke out in boisterous applause and energised yells. Héctor carefully placed them back down onto the stage.

Rosa hadn't realised how fast her heartbeat was. At the sight of the pure joy on the people's faces and hearing their thunderous acclamations, her eyes watered and she let out relieved laughs. She curtsied out of immense respect while Miguel bowed with hands over his chest.

She turned to him. He took his guitar off and hugged her tightly. She embraced him more fiercely.

"You're awesome, Rosa! ¡Te amo mucho!"

"¡Te quiero más, Miguel! You've been stunning!"

After breaking the embrace, Héctor held her hand to pat the back of it in satisfaction, and patted Miguel on the chest affectionately. There was pure warmth in his gaze.

"You both did really well! I'm proud of you!"

At that, something changed within Rosa. No one had ever been proud of her musical skills, nor of Miguel's. Looking at him, she knew that he was going through the same feeling of fulfilment and was experiencing utmost delight at being praised for his hard work.

Héctor was showing his gratitude to the ecstatic, hailing public, blowing kisses at them. He'd said that he'd used to play and perform, but it was as if he had never interrupted either.

Rosa looked at the crowd again, trying to retain every sound and detail that her senses caught, so that the memory would be fresh and intricate in her mind for decades to come - the loud compliments thrown at them, the appreciation, their own euphoria, everything…

She clasped Miguel's hand, her heart leaping once more as they waved at the crowd…

Their first performance…

A/N:

That was intense! I hope the performance scene put a smile on your face!

So yeah, Miguel and Rosa discover the beauty of performing, and Héctor rediscovers it. I didn't expect the food scene to get so long, but I couldn't resist writing some shenanigans. Also, in this chapter, I wanted to have Héctor give the cousins some encouraging advice; they really needed it!

Disclaimer: I included the scene from "Coco, a Story about Music, Shoes and Family" where Héctor advices Miguel to think about someone he loves while performing. A few words have been taken directly from the book.

Thanks so much for reading! Do you have any thoughts that you'd like me to know?