A/N: Even though the Coco fandom has died down in these last years, which makes me very sad because it is a gorgeous movie, I still want to share this story with anyone who is interested in this idea.
The story starts one year before the film. It is mainly written in Rosa's POV, thus the title.
This fic contains Spanish words. They are written using italics to set them apart from English.
Disclaimer: Coco is property of Disney Pixar. I have also included a few scenes from the novelization, but added my own thing to them.
Enjoy!
PART 1: SOMETHING NEW
The Beginning
It was happening again.
Rosa subconsciously clutched the wooden box of tools in her hands, her brown, gold-flecked eyes growing big.
Those beautiful yet prohibited sounds in the Rivera household drifted through the opened window of the shoe shop, making everyone momentarily stop what they were doing.
The twelve-year-old girl hardly resisted the urge to tap her fingers to the beat. She realised the music came from the daughter of one of the customers, who was passionately playing her violin while they were waiting for her tía Gloria to finish packing their order of shoes.
Cautiously, Rosa stepped closer to watch the scene attentively. The tips of the girl's fingers appeared to be shifting and pressing on the fingerboard by themselves, while her other arm moved the bow gracefully onto the strings, effortlessly and flawlessly producing a ravishing melody. Her eyes were closed as a content smile crossed her features; it gave the impression that she was living a delightful dream.
The view was… surreal, even though Rosa could see it all herself. Her eyes remained glued to the violin atop the girl's shoulder, the notes that were being played easily making their way into her heart.
A voice startled her out of her daze. "Hey, stop that right now!" her papá, Berto, gruffly spoke, and the little girl immediately ceased, wide-eyed as to why he looked so irritated.
"Stay here, mija!" he instructed, squeezing her shoulder briefly, then approaching the doorway.
Rosa rapidly surveyed the room and instantly noticed the brimming tension. Those kinds of situations were usual for the family, albeit never pleasant. She quickly exited the shop, not wanting to witness her father driving away the two, and strolled towards the kitchen with a heavy heart. She slid two woven baskets on her arm before treading to her bedroom to snatch her wallet, checking the sum of money inside. Pleased, she returned to the workshop to announce, "I'm going to the market. Do any of you need anything?"
Heads raised in her direction. Her abuelita Elena - Berto's mother - was the one to respond first.
"Get some cempasúchil, will you, mija? We need some more for the ofrenda."
"Noted. Anything else?"
She was approached by Carmen, whose tone was tinged with worry.
"Don't you want me to come with you, Rosa?"
"Mamá, I'm twelve," she replied categorically. "A girl my age should know how to do the shopping. I'll be back before you even realise I'm gone."
Her mother's lips rose into a grin and she kissed her daughter's cheek good-bye, causing Rosa to roll her eyes, but her own smile gave away her true emotions.
"Stay away from the plaza, Rosita!" Berto warned from his seat, his hands still crafting leather whilst he glanced at her. "The mariachis have doubled for tonight's celebrations."
"Sé, papá," the preteen was striding to the exit of the shoe shop when two tiny hands grasped her capri jeans. Rosa's eyes darted downwards to see her ten-years-younger twin brothers, Manny and Benny, peer up at her with immense puppy eyes.
"Candy?" chirped Manny out pleadingly; her face broke into a grin full of complicity.
"Rosa…" came Elena's guarded voice. "We already have plenty of sweets."
After a deceiving shake of the head in her grandmother's direction, she winked at her siblings. The little boys tittered, and she finally marched out of the Rivera residence.
Once she was out, Rosa heaved a sigh from the bottom of her heart. She peeked back for a moment, speeding up as she rounded a corner, dashing on the usual route to the market. The streets quickly became circulated as she neared the centre of the small town that was Santa Cecilia; her eyes examined every face she came across, every instrument that jumped in her line of sight.
She had to find them. They couldn't have gone far.
A group of joyous dancers cut off her path from a narrow street that branched off the main one, and she came to a sudden halt. The girls were a few years older than her, laughing while swaying the long folds of their traditional Mexican costumes, every one of them accompanied by a partner. Rosa was momentarily dazzled by the sea of vibrant colours, by the loud clanking of their small-heeled shoes that seemed to have a type of music of their own…
No! Stop that! Music has nothing to do with shoes!
She left the buoyant teenagers behind, not even daring to toss a glance back, afraid that if she did, she'd not want to leave. She tightened her grip on the baskets, absent-mindedly passing the many stalls of vendors from whom she could purchase everything her family still needed for Día de Muertos.
Through the bustling streets, where the amount of noise and people tripled, Rosa managed to catch a glimpse of a violin somewhere far on her right.
"Wait!" she called out to the woman who was clutching the hand of her child, but who seemed to be out of reach.
She accelerated only to cease her rush abruptly at the edge of Mariachi Plaza, where her two targets were currently sitting on a bench, undisturbed, just sixty feet away.
Biting her lower lip and checking the path over her shoulder, Rosa's mind was plagued by the order she was certain she'd heard a thousand times from Elena, "Never go to the plaza!"
Argh, where was her bold adventurous spirit when she was in such bad need of it? Where was the little voice that sometimes murmured, Go on and fear nothing! ?
She grunted, her eyes focusing ahead. Five minutes wouldn't harm her. Besides, musicians were everywhere in Santa Cecilia, not just in the plaza.
Taking a deep breath, she set her feet in the circle that marked the entrance in the square, appearing casual and indifferent about her surroundings, despite the hammering of her heart. She tried her utmost not to imagine the gossip. A Rivera in the plaza…
The corners of her lips stretched into an amiable smile when she reached the woman and her young daughter.
"¡Buenas tardes!"
The greeting came out more squeaky than she'd aimed to.
The two regarded her in confusion, the mother arching a brow and the girl ceasing to lick her ice-cream.
Rosa chuckled awkwardly, veering her gaze from the shiny violin next to the youngster.
"My name is Rosa Rivera. I'm part of the family you bought those boots from about fifteen minutes ago." She gestured to the carton box the woman had placed beside her on the bench, where the black Rivera logo was engraved on its top.
The mother's eyes widened. "Oh, sí! I think I remember you. You seemed caught up in my daughter's music back there. I'm Gabriela. Please, take a seat!"
"I was and I am fascinated by music," Rosa shyly accepted the offer, not having expected so much politeness from a customer whom her father had rebuked.
The woman's daughter - who couldn't be older than nine - cheered up in recognition.
"And I'm María! ¡Encantada de conocerte!"
Rosa grinned at her, shaking her hand, being the target of her contagious high spirits. She then cleared her throat with a more solemn demeanour.
"I followed you to apologise for what my family said back there."
"Yes, I noticed," Gabriela said sadly, "but you needn't have followed me just for that."
"I felt guilty for not stepping in," admitted the young Rivera, subconsciously tucking some fly-aways of her dark brown hair behind her ear and adjusting her oval-framed red glasses. "My family, they're good people, it's just that… our history is… somewhat painful and that's what caused them to react in such a way. But they're well-meaning, I assure you."
She wrung her fingers in her lap, gazing unseeingly in the distance. "And that's not the only reason why I pursued you. Besides the excuse to go to the market" - she elevated her baskets to prove her point - "I felt the urge to simply… escape, you know? Have you ever felt that? A fervent need to just… breathe some fresh air?"
When she directed her eyes back up to Gabriela, the woman's face was painted with melancholy, while María's ice cream continued to melt in the afternoon sun.
Something similar to an alarm went off in Rosa's head. She got up rapidly, scoured the plaza, which seemed to be even more crowded than before.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! You must think I'm a freak."
Gabriela's eyes widened. "No, not at all! We all have our painful experiences. What matters most is that you have the strength to surpass them."
María suddenly clasped her hand, a radiant grin on her youthful features. "Would you like to see me play?"
Rosa froze, her eyes travelling to the small instrument on the bench. Against the will of her brain, but in advantage of the encouraging whispers of her heart, she nodded slightly, almost reluctantly. All smiles, María got up, placed her violin on her shoulder and began bowing away.
Rosa knelt down in front of her, her heartbeat decelerating in the presence of music. Her body turned stone-still and her muscles lost tension, every note that was being played feeling heavenly. The melody was soft and somewhat simple, but she was appreciative of it nonetheless. Any type of music was welcome, since it was infinitely better than no music at all.
María proceeded to play her violin flawlessly, and by the time she finished, the Rivera girl found it hard to break out of her trance.
"You really want to learn a musical instrument, don't you, chica?" whispered the mother, pained to see the yearning in her gaze.
Still enchanted, she nodded. "So much…"
Some wouldn't have been mesmerised by the music María had created, but not many knew the value of this art the way Rosa Rivera did. Being caged away from music had taught her how beautiful it was, how marvellous, how valuable.
"Thank you so much for these wonderful moments," she got up on what felt like legs made of lead, hoping that her immense gratefulness would be perceived through her warm, satisfied beam, "but I must go now. My family gets very suspicious if I'm late."
"Of course, we don't want you getting in trouble," Gabriela nodded in understanding.
Her daughter launched herself at her, wrapping her arms tightly around her midriff.
"See you around, Rosa!" she chirped, her affection melting the older girl's heart, who patted her head.
She bid the two farewell, bolting out of the plaza with a racing heartbeat. How much time had passed? Did any acquaintances witness her break the sacred rule? The chances of being gossiped about were high, but for once, Rosa was unable to bring herself to care much about them. It was the audacity to do what her heart was saying that had granted her such blissful, peaceful minutes.
And she didn't see what her family held against the kind of happiness that music solely had the power to bring.
Baskets full, wallet nearly empty and arms filled with big bouquets of marigolds, Rosa was light-heartedly journeying into the quieter streets towards her home, lost in a ballad she was humming.
"Well, if it isn't my favourite Rivera," a male voice purred behind her.
She stiffened in place. Why now?
She sped up, but steps trailed after her.
"Oh, come on, Rosita, don't be like that! I haven't seen you in weeks."
"Don't call me that!" she bristled.
She could've just rounded the corner that was so close to her casa, but the last thing that she - and her familia for that matter - needed on Día de Muertos was for him to come any closer to their threshold.
Turning at the waist, her face blank, she spoke as calmly as she could, though a challenging note still coloured her tone, "And such blessed weeks they were! What do you want, Eduardo?"
The fourteen-year-old teenager peered at her with half-lidded eyes, his hands in his pockets.
"Nothing specific," he shrugged. "Just wanted to wish you a music-filled celebration!"
Her palm colliding with that crooked grin sounded dangerously indulging, but thankfully for her and lucking for him, her arms were loaded. She smirked back with as much condescendence as her features could sham, "Thanks! Tonight's gonna be extra special, you know."
She would have added some more, but she risked making a scene, therefore she turned on her heel and quickened her pace.
"Oh, really?" Eduardo easily kept up with her thanks to his too-long legs for somebody his age. "Need I remind you that when you first tried convincing that weird family of yours to allow you to listen to music after sneaking to that show at school - two years ago if I recall correctly - they punished you?"
Rosa despised how speedily her cheeks flushed scarlet. She attempted to keep her breathing even and her voice tranquil, despite the storm raging within her.
"You know nothing of my family! You have no idea what happened that made us be this way! Things are the way they are for a reason!"
"Are you sure I don't know what happened in your family decades ago? Well, let me open your eyes and assure you that everybody in Santa Cecilia knows that. Ever since your great-great grandfather abandoned your great-great grandmother to become a musician, and she banned music out of rage and pain, nothing but a curse has been thrown upon you all! And a damn strong curse! Not even a note can enter your property without your family screaming."
She eventually turned the ferocity of her glare on him, "Don't you dare talk about them!"
"I already did, chiquita," he chuckled before his face wore the mask of deadly seriousness, one that she hated to admit sent shivers down her spine.
"Your family is a curse to this town, to the whole of Mexico! And I tell you this. They're also a curse… to you."
It took a lot for a girl like Rosa to get utterly taken aback. Now speechless, she scowled at him as if he'd committed the most repugnant crime. She heavily stomped her foot on his.
"Get lost, moron! Or I'll call mi papá!"
Eduardo found his sneering skills amidst his grunts, "And what are you gonna tell him, huh? That I saw you in the plaza and I followed you?"
She froze for a split moment before finding the last bits of brashness to speak, straining not to lose her temper. Tears were fogging her eyesight.
"You know, karma will bite you sometime. Sooner or later. You'll remember what you did to me, what you said about my family. And that might hurt you more than you could ever imagine."
With that, Rosa huffed, entering the Rivera hacienda that was mere metres away. Once inside, she locked the gates, although she knew that her former classmate wouldn't be stupid enough to hound her in…
Eduardo's words couldn't have been farther from the truth. Her family was the greatest blessing she could have ever asked for. He was an idiot who had no idea what he was talking about. If the Riveras didn't have music, so what? That didn't mean they weren't kind people. It wasn't like they'd ever harmed anybody because of that rule.
She cringed when the image of Elena yanking her chancla at músicos who'd sung in her presence crossed her mind.
Well, they hadn't harmed anyone that much - scratch that, a sandal didn't count.
She only became conscious of the crashing waves of hurt after she had placed the last marigolds on the family's stunning four-tiered ofrenda. She glanced up at the photo of her oldest ancestress, her tatarabuela, Mamá Imelda; the camera had snapped the ravishing image of her youth, about fifty years prior to her death. Imelda was sitting next to a faceless musician, his head having been ripped off from the picture long ago. In the woman's arms, Rosa's still living great-grandmother, Socorro - Coco - who was about three years old at the time, was staring quizzically at the camera.
Rosa's voice trembled, helpless about the tears which stung her eyes, "Why did you ban music? It wasn't music that tore your husband away from you, it was his decision to leave you behind!"
She collapsed to her knees, jerking her long ponytail, "¿Por qué? ¡¿Por qué?! ¡Respóndeme! Why would you choose to hurt us in such a way?"
"Hurt us?"
Rosa flinched, containing her sobs in an instant as she hastily rose to her feet. Her tía Gloria - Berto's younger sister - was staring at her, horrified.
"Mija, what's wrong?"
She approached her niece, placing one hand on her back while the other grabbed the girl's fingers to lead her to some nearby chairs, where they sat down.
"Who hurt us, who hurt you? What were you talking about?"
Her mind still misty, Rosa said the first thing that came up as a plausible reply.
"It's Eduardo. I bumped into him on my way home."
The space between Gloria's brows creased.
"He's bothering you again?"
"Eh, I've grown used to it, tía. He's an estupido who deserves no attention whatsoever."
If that was true, then why did she feel so conflicted after their unplanned encounter? Why did his cruel words pester her?
Gloria shook her head. "What did he tell you?"
Rosa gulped.
No, she couldn't reveal the truth, she'd risk hurting her aunt and consequently, the rest of her cherished family.
"That I'm a weirdo for not liking music."
Gloria sighed in annoyance. Before she even opened her mouth, her niece added, "Let him be, tía. There's not much we can do. It's not like he'll leave Santa Cecilia or even school. He'll be around anyway, so we should accept things as they are."
"Sometimes you have to fight before accepting."
"And we have. For years already. Maybe he'll come around sometime."
Rosa raised from her seat. "I can handle it, tía. Stop worrying. People like him don't get to me."
The frightened voice inside her head was suddenly alive, They really don't?
"I bought everything we need for tonight. Call me if you need any more help."
She headed to the door that led to the main hall of the house before her relative got the chance to further voice her disagreement.
With that, Rosa trod to her room, her sanctuary and only place of solitude, something breaking in her chest.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!