𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗥𝗮𝘁 | 𝗠. 𝗥𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗮[UNDER EDITING]

➪𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻

-Miguel's POV-

The three of us now follow Héctor into a darker part of the city. From next to me, (Y/N) looks at her hands with her eyebrows furrowed. She seems to be thinking about a lot right now.

Héctor's voice is heard calling out to me. "Why the heck would you want to be a musician?"

I shrug. "My-great-great-grandpa was a musician!"

"Who spent his life preforming like a monkey for complete strangers." The older man scoffs. "No thank you."

I huff in annoyance, making (Y/N) look back up. "What do you know?" I mutter. I felt an elbow nudge me.

"Don't let him bother you." She says with a sweet smile. "We'll get you to your great-great-grandpa. All you have to do is win the competition." (Y/N) looks to the side anxiously. "Which is easier said than done."

We both stand for a moment in silence before breaking out into quiet laughters, hoping Héctor didn't hear us.

(Y/N) looks forward as we went silent. But for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off her. I never noticed how pretty she was.

Heat slowly came to my face. When I realize that I was blushing, I whip my head to the ground.

No, no, no. This can't be happening.

I try my best to shake off the feeling by shouting to Héctor, "So how far is this guitar anyway?"

He whips his body around to us, after standing by a ledge. "We're almost there." He proceeds to jump backwards off of it.

As the two of us gaze down at the dismantled Héctor, I still couldn't shake that feeling (Y/N) gave me.

-(Y/N)'s POV-

After watching him in awe for a few moments, the man finally puts himself back together and starts to walk away. "Keep up, chamaco. Come on."

Snapping out of my amazement, I start to make my way down the ladder, Miguel and Dante following suit.

We are met with a brick opening with paintings surrounding it. As we get close we hear some low and distorted music playing, along with the chattering of people.

The entire place seems really run, down, as if it had been abandoned for years.

"Cousin Héctor!" A few people shout to him. 

"Hey! These guys! Hey Tío!" Miguel and I glance at each other in confusion. 

"These people are all your family? Miguel asks.

Héctor shrugs. "Eh. In a way. We're all the ones with no photos or ofrendas. No family to go home to. Nearly forgotten, you know? So, we all call each other cousin, or tío, or whatever."

He swiftly picked up champagne bottle, and makes his way to a table filled with a bunch of older women. As they notice him, they shout his name happily.

"Tía Chelo!" Héctor laughs. He pours the women all drinks, also pouring one for himself. "Hey save some for me! Is Chicharrón around?" He asks them, grabbing an extra drink.

"Eh, in the bungalow." One of them points. "I don't know if he's in the mood for visitors."

Despite this warning, Héctor starts to make his way to a small hut. "Who doesn't like a visit from Cousin Héctor?" He pushes the door open, which reveals a curtain covering the entrance.

We make our way in. The entire place is piled in trash and a bunch of old things. Whoever lives here, it makes me feel really bad for them.

Héctor walks up to a hammock and picks a hat off it, revealing a person underneath. "Buenas noches, Chicharrón!"