"I'm so handsome!" Ernesto boasted as he played his guitar. He and his band were at a bar playing music on a July cool evening in 1940.

"Ohhhh!" a group of girls sighed, dreamily. They fainted from their chairs.

Ernesto smirked and winked at them. He loved getting all the attention from everyone, especially the ladies. A desolation, or a thought from the devil, filled up his mind. ' Which one of these ladies would be coming home with me to bed tonight?'

When he and his band finished their song, everybody gave a round of applause and he took a bow many times.

"Gracias, gracias," Ernesto said, smoothly. "I like to thank you all for coming to see me!"

He frowned when he heard two coughs behind him. "And of course, my two bandmates, Antonio and Gustavo."

The two men happily, took a bow, despite only two people clapping for them.

"The night is over but thank you again and we shall see you next time!"

But there was no next time. The next day, Ernesto heard unexpected bad news from his manager.

"Rejected!?" The pompous man exclaimed. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN REJECTED!? GOW COULD YOU NOT GET US BOOKED!?"

"Por favor, Ernesto," the manager sighed. He rubbed his temples with his fingers. "Try to understand that you are not well-liked here. All three bars, restaurants, joints, and other places don't want you. They wanted new people, especially some with talent."

"I am talented!" Ernesto huffed. "I was this close to achieving my dream!"

"You may be talented but you are facing competition from other musicians," the manager said, cooly. "Most are even more talented than you."

"HOW DARE YOU TALK TO A STAR LIKE THAT!" Ernesto snapped.

"Stop raising your voice at me, you culo!"

"Can't you try somewhere else?" Antonio asked, stopping his band leader from delivering a punch to their manager. He was trying to stop the squall before it shaped into a storm. "How about other countries that never heard of Mariachi music?"

"Yeah!" Gustavo piped up. "Like Columbia, Brazil, Puerto Rico, Venezuela…," he listed. "We could even try Estados Unidos de América!"

"No, no, no," the manager shook his head. "Mariachi music is not in high demand in those countries and even if that is so, they only want famous musicians."

"We're famous!" Ernesto said, striking a handsome pose. "We have played in almost every major city in Mexico and people are finally recognizing our names!"

"I can't book you anywhere else unless there is one town that we never tried."

Antonio and Gustavo finally remembered one particular town that they never visited.

"How about Santa Cecilia?"

"Santa Cecilia!?" Ernesto scoffed. "Oh please! I'm much too famous for that pitiful and low-class town!"

"Santa Cecilia, it is, then!" The manager beamed, writing the name down on his notebook. "I will call them and ask them to book you!"

"No, you will not!" Ernesto growled.

"Oye!" The manager snapped. "Either you guys go to Santa Cecilia or I will quit!"

"Fine!" The musician sighed in defeat.

"Great, now I will book you over there!" The manger beamed.

After he left to make a phone call, the leader of the band tried his best to smooth out his unkempt hair.

"If I don't get a big crowd of fans in Santa Cecilia, I will fire my manager," Ernesto growled. He opened a suitcase. "And I hope I don't run into my old friend. Lord knows he was still sore at me."

While Ernesto grudgingly packs his suitcase, his other bandmates both feel as if they have butterflies in their stomachs.

Although the band had been traveling around Mexico for years, to find Ernesto's missing ex-wife, the band had been giving up. Antonio and Gustavo had been thinking that perhaps Imelda did not want to see Ernesto anymore. Why else would she run away? Their band leader had given up too, but only because he wanted an excuse to mingle with other ladies. Now they are just trying to get by through their musical careers.

"It's a good thing that our manager decided to book us in Santa Cecilia," Antonio said to Ernesto. "We had been were losing out to other musicians who were younger and more talented than us."

"And after all, it the only town that we haven't tried yet," Gustavo added.

"Yes, yes, whatever you say, boys," Their leader said nonchalantly. He was still focused on his packing. "Now if I were you two, I'd start packing!"

"Of course!" Antonio nodded. He and Gustavo pulled their empty suitcases out from underneath their beds.

"What are the chances that we might run into Hector or even his ex-wife?" Gustavo whispered to Antonio.

"Who knows?" Antonio shrugged. "There is a 50 percent chance that we might run into them and other fifty percent that we won't. And for Ernesto's sake, I hope we miss them!"