Disputes and Shattered Bonds

Deep down, Rosa had been aware from the start that whatever emotions the performance would arouse, they weren't going to last long under the given circumstances.

But she hadn't expected their mirth to be forced to vanish so soon.

She was still waving, a sparkling smile on her face, when Miguel alarmingly tugged her arm, pointing with his chin to the outskirts of the audience. Rosa flinched and slapped her mouth, noticing what had brought about his anxiety.

Tíos Óscar and Felipe were scouring the plaza, while tías Rosita and Victoria were talking to strangers not far away, and Papá Julio was discussing with the emcee to stage right, the woman taking notes on a tiny notebook. As for Mamá Imelda, she wasn't in their line of sight, nor was Pepita.

It was a bit weird how none of their family members had noticed them, especially if they'd been in the plaza for quite some time already. Rosa attributed that outcome to the decades they'd all spent avoiding music and anything else that had to do with it at all costs. That particular custom had beeningrained in every Rivera's brain since a tender age. She'd known the feeling once, before her desire for music had kicked in.

Miguel had already placed his guitar on his back, jerking both her and Héctor off the stage in a rush.

The skeleton was puzzled, "Hey! Where are you going?!"

"We gotta get out of here!" The boy replied; Rosa could swear that his voice had sounded broken, just the state her heart was currently in.

"What?! Are you crazy? We're about to win this thing!"

Leaving this place would have been a lot easier to handle had it not been for those words.

On-stage, the emcee calmed down the still-enchanted public, "Damas y caballeros, I have an emergency announcement. Please be on the look-out for two living children..."

The people gasped and murmured with their neighbours, a disconcerting wave taking over the plaza.

"...answer to the names of Miguel and Rosa respectively. Earlier tonight they ran away from their family. They just want to send them back to the Land of the Living…"

The whispering grew louder, being strengthened by concern.

Now farther from the stage, Rosa's fear was replaced by downright dread when glancing up at Héctor. Miguel was biting his lip nervously, his eyes being the mirror of uncertainty as the emcee finalised her speech.

"...If anyone has information, please contact the authorities!"

Adrenaline flooded in the girl's body as Héctor turned to face them, his brow ridges nearly meeting.

"Wait, wait, wait. You said de la Cruz was your only family, the only person who could send you home," he yanked his arm out of Miguel's grip a little too forcibly.

"We do have a family, but…"

The man's voice raised, "You could have taken my photo back this whole time?!"

Seeing the way her cousin coiled back at his tone spurred the spirit of the protective older sister within Rosa. She valiantly stepped in front of Miguel, further pushing him behind her. Her arms tightened in a guarding position.

"Don't you dare speak that way to him!" she whispered with deadliness, meeting Héctor's scowl with her fiery one.

Adrenaline was racing through her veins like a high-speed train.

Héctor faltered, his eyes softening and his body slightly losing tension. He almost looked hurt by her defensive stance.

"I would never ever intend to harm anyone, Rosa. Especially a child."

"Oh, yeah? How would I know?" Her anger seethed.

"¡Prima, cálmese!" Miguel touched her shoulder, stepping next to her, but she still kept her gaze trained on the skeleton. "There's no need for this," he gazed at Héctor. "Our family hates music, that's why we need a musician's blessing."

"You lied to me!" He pointed at them with an accusing finger.

"Oh, you're one to talk!" The boy crossed his arms, his lips a thin line.

Héctor rubbed his eyes, then placed his hands on his hips. It was plainly visible how hard he was attempting to keep his fury at bay.

"What did I tell you earlier? Family is the most important thing in the world…"

"Not when they're hurting you!" Miguel cut him off, his temper flaring. "They broke my guitar! Why do you think I needed one to perform?!"

Héctor was staring at him, wide-eyed. A shadow of sorrow crossed his features as he pictured the boy in front of him crying before his beloved instrument, but his barely-controlled fury rose again.

"That's no reason to run away from them, chamaco."

Miguel threw his arms in the air, "¡Increíble!"

Héctor sighed, "Your loved ones are the only people whom you can trust in life, chicos. Not your idols. You have no idea how much you've been endangering yourselves. What if Ernesto won't give you the blessing, what would you do then? Would you keep running away from your familia? You're young, you don't understand how precious life is. Neither did I once." His eyes darkened. "You never know when your loved ones will be taken away from you, or when you will be taken away from them."

The kids shivered at the thought under his intense gaze, which became even more pained and raging.

"Plus, look at me. I'm being forgotten. I don't even know if I'm gonna last the night! I'm not gonna miss my one chance to cross that bridge 'cause you want to live out some stupid musical fantasy!"

Stupid musical fantasy. Pretty much the same words that tía Gloria had used to describe her nephew's passion for music just a few hours prior. It was like she and Héctor were family!

Miguel was still and quiet, the memory replaying in his mind. His eyes glimmering with tears he didn't want to spill.

"It's not stupid! Why does everyone keep saying that?" His fists balled up and his face contorted in anguish and wrath.

Rosa's breathing became more rapid, her eyes narrowing as resentment towards their former guide overflowed.

"Music is our life, our dream! How dare you say that?! You have no clue what we've been through tonight, especially Miguel!"

Héctor let them vent. His fierce frown should have dispirited them, but it only fueled their rage.

"So, this is about you, huh?! You've only been using us, that's all!" Rosa almost yelled.

"He doesn't wanna help us. He only cares about himself, prima," Miguel instigated her.

"You can't tell us what to do! You're not our father!" she continued to bark.

"I may not be, but I have a daughter. And I'd be worried sick if I had no idea where she was. I'm taking you back to your family!"

Rosa couldn't hold back the snark, "And if your daughter was hurt by her own family, what would you do?"

Héctor froze for a moment, then suddenly raised his voice again, "I don't need to give you explanations. I said I'm taking you to your family, and that's what I'm doing! You'll thank me later!"

He grasped their wrists, yanking them towards the stage. Miguel and Rosa immediately clutched each other's free forearms, planting their feet on the ground and using their force to break free. Héctor's bones rattled as he regained his balance, regarding them in disbelief.

"We trusted you, Héctor!" Miguel's face briefly showed regret before rage took over. He grabbed the man's picture out of his back pocket. "Keep your dumb photo! Stay away from us!"

He flung the photo, the wind blowing it out of the skeleton's reach. Héctor staggered to catch it, and they used his lack of attention to flee.

"¡Vámos, prima! Looks like everyone is against us tonight."

Rosa huffed in annoyance, shooting daggers over her shoulder at wherever Héctor might have been, as they couldn't see him anymore.

Miguel adjusted his guitar as they climbed down a set of stairs, not hearing a word of what the crowd was whispering, nor the emcee who was announcing the winners, nor Héctor, who was calling out their names in distress…

All the rapture from the show had been ruined…

Upon reaching the pedestrian road under, they spotted de la Cruz's tower in the distance, proudly standing out amongst other buildings. Still fuming, they headed towards it.

"I can't believe him!" Rosa said, but it didn't take long for her wrath to morph into hurt.

"I really thought that we'd met someone who understood us," Miguel's gaze became lost, and he pondered how things could have turned out if it hadn't been for the Riveras' arrival. Once again, they'd ruined his and Rosa's plans.

Dante barked behind them, but that only irritated him.

"¡Cállate, boy!"

But Dante refused to give in; he grasped Miguel's pant leg with his teeth, pulling him backwards.

"No, Dante, stop it! He can't help us!" The young Rivera broke free.

Dante looked back as if he could see Héctor, and tried again, this time shoving his teeth in the sleeve of his hoodie. The garment slipped off, baring his shoulder and half-bony arm.

"Get away, Dante! Stop it! Leave him alone!" Rosa peeled off her flat and threateningly raised her arm.

Dante let go, but growled. The girl had come to realise that the dog wasn't stupid as she'd believed. Guiding them to Héctor and also finding them after the encounter with Pepita, Dante had proven himself trustworthy. But now he was taking Héctor's side… He'd be no use if he kept dragging them back on the route they'd come from.

"You're not a spirit guide! You're just a dumb dog!" Miguel wagged his finger in a cold accusation. "Now get out of here!"

The dog's anger melted away, and he became small under the force of their rage, ultimately leaving them with his tail between his legs.

Meanwhile, Rosa quickly helped Miguel fix his sweater and put his hood back on, but the skeletons nearby had already noticed them. Their whispers crashed into their ears, causing their fear to accelerate.

It's them!

They're the living kids!

I heard about them…

Look!

They're alive…

The boy and girl are alive…

Their hearts raced when a man next to a police woman pointed at them with a dumbfounded expression. They were running by the time the female officer lifted a walkie-talkie to her skull.

They bounded over some railway and slid down some scaffolding before reaching the ground. They'd barely taken a couple of strides when Pepita landed in front of them, roaring. They yelled, tripping back.

"This nonsense ends now, mijos!" Mamá Imelda thundered over the jaguar's head. "I am giving you my blessing, and you are going home!"

"We don't want your blessing!" Miguel pushed Rosa towards a heavy door, both of them lugging it before darting through a dark narrow alley staircase.

To Imelda's dismay, Pepita couldn't get through the alley just like before, so she had to climb down.

"Stop! Come back!"

As she heard her grandmother's desperate screams for them and the clanking of her boots on the pavement nearing them, Rosa's anger diminished, and was replaced by uncertainty, while remorse was also making its way into her heart.

"Miguel! Rosa!"

They encountered an iron gate in one of the candle-illuminated parts of the alley. The gate was locked, thus they had to wriggle through it. When Imelda reached it, Rosa half expected her to disconnect her body parts and somehow move past the gate, that being what Héctor would likely have done, but their ancestress was too dignified to do that.

"I am trying to save your lives!" Imelda let go of the folds of her dress, distraught when she was unable to advance past the gate.

"You're ruining our lives!" Miguel bitterly snapped, slowing down his rush.

"What?!"

"Music's the only thing that makes us happy! And you… you wanna take that away… You'll never understand!" He curled his fists and neared the exit of the alley.

A strange feeling nestled in Rosa's heart. About an hour earlier, she'd flatly rejected their great-great-grandmother and the rest of the family, but now, maybe, just maybe, she could make Imelda see things the way she did.

While the woman appeared lost because of Miguel's rejection, the boy stopped in his tracks, "Come on, Rosa! What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

With a heavy heart, his prima took a few more steps on the stairs, arriving next to him.

Y aunque la vida me cueste,

Llorona… no dejaré de quererte…

Miguel and Rosa froze, the former in disbelief and the latter in astonishment.

Imelda's voice carried the last note a little longer, and when it went out, a tense yet calm silence webbed the entire alley, the light of the candles seeming to tremble, throwing dancing shadows on the walls.

And even if it costs my life, I won't stop loving you…

At first, her voice had sounded a bit harsh from lack of use, but it had been beautiful nevertheless. She'd chosen those specific lyrics for a reason…

"We thought you hated music…" Miguel softly spoke while Rosa still couldn't find her words.

A dreamy glint sparkled in Imelda's eyes as she walked down memory lane, a smile blooming on her lips, "Oh, I loved it! I remember that feeling, when my husband would play, and I would sing, and nothing else mattered…"

She became serious again, "But when we had Coco, suddenly… There was something in my life that mattered more than music. I wanted to put down roots, he wanted to play for the world."

She shook her head, an overwrought frown creasing her forehead before she gazed back at them, patently trying to shove aside the sorrowful memory.

"We each made a sacrifice to get what we wanted. Now you must make a choice."

Her stare intensified.

Miguel closed his eyes for two moments. "I don't wanna pick sides. I never did, even if it looks like I am doing it. Why can't you be on our side? How could you once see the beauty of music and now you're blind to it? Rosa! Back me up, come on!"

Rosa squirmed in place, snapped out of her trance. Both her cousin and her ancestress were regarding her with pleading, equally determined eyes.

There she was, back to the way it had started for her only one year prior. Torn once more, between music and family. Why couldn't this generations-long battle end for once?!

Under the scrutiny of Imelda's gaze, a shiver trailed down her spine, but she straightened her back.

"What if we could have both? That's what Miguel and I have always dreamt of. Don't think that we believe that family is less important than music. I mean, we just performed together! Isn't that the perfect example of having both family and music?"

Imelda quirked her brows, her eyes bulging out of her skull.

"You performed?!"

Miguel threw Rosa a look that she translated as "Good job!". She shrugged it off.

"My point is," she lifted a finger in the air before Imelda could protest any further, "music hasn't hurt us in all the days we've lived with it; it's the rules that have been doing that." She clasped her palms together as if she were praying. "Mamá Imelda, please, we just want a blessing with no conditions on music."

Imelda's gaze seemed to soften as if she were considering her granddaughter's words, but whatever warmth was lying behind her eyes melted at the sharp tone of her voice, "No. Your lives are better off without music! That way I can make sure that you will stay with your family."

"Your family is supposed to support you," Miguel's eyes were swimming in tears, and he wiped the corners of his eyes.

For the first time that night, Rosa was truly afraid that he was going to break down.

"But you never will," he finished categorically.

Imelda's sturdy wall of stubbornness was penetrated by shock and anguish at seeing him so hurt.

"Are you coming with me, Rosa?"

As much as she would have wished to further attempt making their grandmother come around, Rosa grasped that it would take a miracle for someone who had been despising music for decades to get converted to accept it. And she, a young inexperienced girl, would never have the weapons to help her become open-minded, despite them being family.

Plus, seeing her cousin's red eyes, she felt how devastated he was, how much he needed her by his side. The last thing she looked for was deepening his agony by continuing to stay here with Mamá Imelda.

"Sí. Voy contigo."

With a last dejected glance at their grandmother, who was speechless, Rosa followed her primo into the night.

Imelda was standing in the dimly-lit alley, her fingers still surrounding the cold metal rods of the gate.

An abyss was expanding with frightening speed in her soul, cemented with nails of failure and despondency. This was the third time her own great-great grandchildren escaped her in only a few hours.

The realisation struck her like lightning, and she climbed down the stairs like a soldier who was returning from a lost battle. Pepita nudged her when she was in the open air, and Imelda absently walked her hand through the soft fur of her alebrije.

She'd stopped caring about her photo being on the ofrenda hours ago. All she wanted was to send her beloved children back home, where they'd be safe.

It shattered her soul all over again that they might end up like that walk-away musician, that they were so naive and couldn't appreciate having a loving family properly.

Another guilt rose to the surface. She should have told them about how dangerous the Land of the Dead could be, perhaps that way, they would've listened to her.

A nagging feeling told her that they wouldn't have done that nonetheless. They were both adventurous and resourceful if they put their minds to work, especially when they were together.

"¡Vámonos, Pepita!" she urged her jaguar, "We have to find our family before continuing this madness of a chase."

Yet she was unsure where to start from.

She had to find a way! She was the matriarch of the Rivera family! If she didn't take care of her family, then who would?

The alebrije sprung to the air, its wings flapping.

Imelda's heart ached at how concerned and crestfallen the rest of the Riveras were going to be when she'd return empty-handed. What hurt more was that she was the one to blame for being unable to bring Miguel and Rosa on the right path.

Rosa's breathing was becoming heavy, her feet were burning, but she didn't want to ask Miguel to rest, reassuring herself with the fact that their target skyscraper wasn't far away.

She glanced at Miguel; he was quiet, his gaze lost in the distance.

Her mind wandered to Héctor, a bubble of penitence replacing the last bits of rage directed at their former guide. Now that she was calm again, she realised that the guy had wanted them to be safe like Mamá Imelda did; she would never tell Miguel, but perhaps he already knew how perilous and risky their plan was.

If something bad happened with de la Cruz and the blessings they were supposed to receive, she could rely on Dante's instincts to find her and Miguel in time and make up with Héctor to put his photo on their ofrenda, because the skeleton was surely on their tracks as she was analyzing all these aspects.

What did Héctor think of them now? Were they traitors in his eyes? Liars certainly. If he did manage to find them before Ernesto got to give them his blessing, how would he react?

Unwittingly, his furious face crossed her mind, and she knew the answer to that last question.

"Hey, primo?"

"Yes?"

"What are we gonna do once we meet de la Cruz?"

Miguel bit his lip, "Let's hope that he'll take our word for it. But first, we need to find a way to get inside his party because we don't have the entry ticket that the contest could have offered us, nor do we have some sort of fancy invitation."

After a minute of silence, he added, "Do you think Frida will be there? From what she told us, she seems to be in touch with him. Maybe we could find her before she gets inside the fiesta and ask her to help us out."

Rosa shook her head, "I don't think she'll take part. She was pretty cross with him for not treating his rehearsals with seriousness, while she was in the studio organising his show."

"You could be right," the boy sighed.

She hesitated with what had been bugging her for fifteen minutes. "What will we do if Héctor catches up to us?"

Miguel's eyes enlarged. "We'll put his photo up."

She'd expected a hostile response at the mention of the name.

"That's what he's wanted from the start," her cousin proceeded, "so we'll help him. He did help us quite a lot, after all."

It felt good to know she wasn't the odd one out, that Miguel was also facing contrition.

"Maybe we could have made him understand us somehow. He really showed us how much he loves music, unlike Mamá Imelda," she mumbled under her breath, the image of the three of them fulfilling the deal they'd made at the beginning of the night playing out in her mind in a lot of ways.

"Yeah," was all Miguel said, his eyes glistening.

At least they'd met someone who had supported them, who had been proud of their musical skills, even though it had been brief. Now they knew what those experiences felt like, after they'd been craving to have them for years.

They were going to miss having them.

"But hey! Now we know what a performance feels like!" Rosa tried alleviating his grief, despising witnessing him being forlorn. She punched his shoulder light-heartedly. "And we know what to do to make our future performances work!"

That brought a tiny lopsided smile on his features.

"When did you become so optimistic?" He queried with a mischievous grin.

"In secret." She wiggled her brows, eliciting chortles out of him. "And you are one talented performer, Miguel!"

"Well, I have an even more talented cousin!"

Rosa frowned in feigned frustration, "Shut up! You're laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you, seriously! I mean it! You were sensational out there!"

"Then we can be sensational together!"

She locked her arm with his, both of them grinning when they eventually arrived at Ernesto's tower.

It was colossal, flashy and sumptuous, surrounded by water, only an exceedingly wide path connecting it to the rest of the earth. It had clearly been made just for Ernesto himself judging by the identical set of statues at the entrance.

Various vehicles, from carriages to cars, were drawing in into the circular drive. Skeletons were dressed in formal expensive clothing, from suits to nightgowns, and were climbing out of their vehicles to saunter down a wide red carpet, invitations in hand. Apart from blaring horns, music was also present in the air, coming from different performers on the sidelines.

A myriad of lights made the place look like a party scene; but the real party was being held at the top of the tower, where guests were able to go with the help of a funicular.

Miguel and Rosa took their place in the queue, peeking at the first couple at the start of the line. The guard allowed them to pass, thanks to their invitation.

"How will we get through?" Rosa was worriedly tapping her foot.

"Maybe we won't be noticed."

She sighed with an unimpressed air while he drew his hood closer to his eyes. "That won't work."

"Then what do you suggest? Showing him the photo?"

"Heck no! It's a family photo! What if he takes it away?"

"Okay, fine! We'll just figure something out on the spot, then."

"Like what?!"

Rosa's panicked question remained unanswered, as it was their turn.

Miguel nudged her in a silent message, Play along!, so she smiled so much her cheeks hurt.

Even though the guard - a tall, bald, sturdily-built man - was wearing a pair of black glasses, she could see the disbelieving look in his eyes when he crossed his arms, uttering simply, "Invitation?"

"It's okay. We're Ernesto's great-great-grandchildren," Miguel made de la Cruz's famous pose with a guitar in his hands and charming grin.

Meanwhile, Rosa wanted the ground to swallow her.

The guard rolled his eyes, "I don't have time to waste, niños! Find something else to do!"

"But we almost won the competition at the plaza!" the girl argued, cheeky.

"Well, you should have actually won it in order to enter! Now get out of here before I call the police!"

He shoved them out of the line, a few skeletons glancing pitifully at them. While Rosa hid her face from the inquisitive eyes, Miguel scowled at the guard.

"Don't worry, prima. I'll find a way to get us inside that party even if it kills me!"

"Let's not use those words here, Miguel."

Miguel wasn't listening, his attention grasped by the loud laughter of a band nearby. Studying them, she concluded that they were Los Chachalacos, the musicians who had performed before them in the talent show.

The boy turned his head to her, a knowing glint in his gaze. Rosa nodded in assent; those musicians were their last hope.

They approached the band, Miguel speaking for both of them, "Excuse us, señores…"

Light shone on the faces of the skeletons upon spotting them.

"Hey guys, it's Poco Locos!"

"You were on fire tonight!"

Just like her cousin, Rosa was positively taken aback by their praises, and whatever concern she'd had that the band wouldn't be in the mood to help them plummeted. She chirped out a "thanks".

"You were awesome, too!" Miguel returned the compliment. "Hey, musicians to musicians, we need a favour."

"We'd be glad to help, chicos!" The band leader spoke for his band mates, and they all nodded in agreement.

"The thing is," Rosa started, "we need to get into de la Cruz's party. Don't ask us why, we just urgently need to find him. We've already tried going past the guard, but he kicked us out. And… you did win the contest, right?"

"You two have actually won it," one of the ladies let them know, "but when your name was called, you weren't there, so… we were the ones to receive it. Trust us, it doesn't truly belong to us but to you."

The kids' eyes widened. Even without the deserved prize, it was a triumph like no other to know that they'd been selected to win.

"We should hurry," another band member said, "de la Cruz is to be here soon."

Miguel whipped his head to the lengthy queue, as if he could already spot his idol. If she peered hard enough, Rosa could notice the rapid beats of his heart beneath his hoodie.

"We'll have to distract the guard in order to smuggle them in," the band leader held his chin thoughtfully, "the ticket will do that."

He snatched a yellow card from his front pocket, reading it.

"But we can't just have them walk beside us. That'd be way too stupid!" one of the ladies butted in.

"How about the sousaphone?" Miguel pointed at the large instrument, the eyes of the guy carrying it growing big. "Do you think I could… umm… fit in the tube?"

He scratched the back of his neck, biting his lip for fear that they might laugh at him for such an odd idea that put the instrument at risk. And himself.

Rosa's eyes sparkled, "You cannot be serious. It's an instrument, primo! And how do you think you'll be able to breathe?"

An alarm suddenly went off in her head. Skeletons didn't have lungs…

While the band were regarding her with questioning looks, Miguel jumped to mend her mistake. He slapped his eyes, a strangled chuckle falling from his lips.

"¡Ay, prima! You still haven't gotten used to this place, huh? I'm sorry about her," he turned to the intrigued adults, straining himself to cry on cue, "We're New Arrivals." He hiccuped. "It happened… a week ago."

Rosa put a saddened mask on.

"Oh, pobrecitos!" a lady sniffled, all the musicians sharing her sentiment. "You're safe now, you'll be alright. Let's cheer up! We're about to go to a stupendous party!"

The Riveras smiled with gratefulness, exhaling deeply and soundlessly.

"If my cousin goes into the sousaphone, then I go into the bass drum," the girl gazed at the huge drum. "You can open it up, right?"

"Of course, I can, chica!" The musician undid the claw hooks of the lugs on his instrument, lowering the resonate head and revealing the empty space inside.

Rosa surveyed the blankness. It was wide enough for her to sit with her knees to her chest, but she'd still have to hunch her back.

After Miguel passed the guitar to one of the musicians, they managed to get him into the wide tube of the sousaphone, even though the lower half of his body was hanging out of the bell.

The bass drum player closed the head back on, doing the clasps before they all set out. Rosa wasn't claustrophobic, but the little space she had at her disposition to move, coupled with the demand to keep as still and as quiet as possible, unnerved her to a moderate degree, especially because she swung helplessly in time with the guy's steps.

The crucial need for air intensified with each minute. She quietly thanked the sky for all the times she'd practised holding her breath underwater when she'd gone with Abel and Miguel to swim in the river together.

Muffled noises from outside informed her that they were at the queue again. The familiar thick voice of the guard said something before the band advanced and came to a stop, the automatic doors of what was probably the funicular shutting with a clunk before Rosa felt gravity pushing down on her shoulders as the train began its ascent.

She gently knocked on the side of the drum. The instrument was placed onto the floor, and its owner allowed her to exit the confined space. She inhaled with greed, adjusting her spectacles.

"¡Gracias!"

Her heart hammered all of a sudden. "¿Dónde está…?"

The sousaphone player blew once with exertion, and Miguel was on the floor with a heavy plop.

He laughed, "Thanks, guys! You okay, prima?"

"I feel fantastic!" Rosa responded genuinely.

They were helped to their feet by a few of the kind musicians, the boy retaking charge of the guitar.

"Your ideas worked, chicos!" one of the ladies praised, "That guard didn't even suspect you were there!"

"I don't blame him. With those glasses, I wouldn't see either!" Rosa joked with new-found glee, causing everybody to laugh.

"Say, kiddos, will we see you performing around again?" the band leader asked after the last snickers died out.

All eyes focused on the young Riveras.

"Y-yeah, we hope so! Right?" Miguel nudged her.

"Totally!" she exclaimed, equally pained by the lie.

"Great! We'd love to perform with you sometime if you like."

"Definitely!"

Grinning, they shook hands with the short man under the warm gazes of his peers.

The funicular came to a smooth halt, the doors opening shortly after, and a luxurious mansion greeted them.

A/N:

I really wanted Héctor and Imelda to try harder to make Rosa and Miguel understand their perspective, and vice versa. Also, Rosa's having doubts and is feeling torn once again, thus why she tried negotiating the blessing. I had her go with Miguel because she didn't want things between the two of them to crash again. Miguel has barely forgiven her.

Oh, and Los Chachalacos are good musicians.

I appreciate you reading!