>>Ay, Mi Amor!<< (Miguel Rivera x Reader oneshots)

Hatred, or Forgiveness.

You are Y/N De La Cruz,
the great-great granddaughter of Ernesto De La Cruz.

And you wouldn't have had it differently,
He inspired you in every way.
You hoped one day to be a singer,
just like him!

Until...

One day you were brightly skipping through the plaza,
making your way to the shrine of Ernesto,
before seeing the town newspaper.

"Ernesto De La FRAUD. De La Cruz Murdered original writer for all music hits!"

You couldn't believe your eyes.
Your heart sank as you read the leading line.

Your idol is a cheat, a MURDERER!

But the worst thing?

YOU WILL NEVER BECOME A SINGER.

In distress, you snatched the newspaper,
and through your sour hatred you tore it apart.

After, you sank your knees to the ground, surrounded by torn newspaper parts.

You noticed a name on one of the pieces, you slowly picked it up and read what it said,

"All evidence revealed by Miguel Rivera"

Your head rose slowly as you bitterly spat the words,

"Rivera..."

You then uttered a vow,

"For as long as I live, I shall never, befriend a Rivera."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Two years later.

You and your family are the most hated people in what seems like Mexico.

People always give you daggers whenever you glance to their way.

They shun you out in every way possible.

Not just because the incident,
but someone heard you that time and rumours got out that you swore the vow because you support his murdering.

It's always hard to go to the plaza, because whenever you do,
people rarely even sell you things, it's really tough to get by.

So most days, you have to put on a wig, and go by the name of "Mariella Fuentes".

You stroll through the neighbourhood one day.

As you walk through,
your shoe catches on a wonky tile and you fall on your knee, causing your wig to fall off.

You feel a sharp, jabbering pain on your leg, you turn to sit up on the ground and see a large scrape,
you watch the blood trickle down your leg and drip onto the ground.
You wince out of pain and fight the urge to cry. You blink back your tears before hearing someone say,

"Oh Dios mío! Are you okay? Here, let me help you!"

A boy, you somehow have never seen before, runs up to you and kneels to the ground.
He then tears off a piece of fabric from his shirt and wraps it around your knee.

(You) "A-ah! No! Y-you can't rip your sh-shirt for me!"

(Him) "D-don't worry about it, we need to get you to the clinic."

The boy practically carries you up and helps you stumble along to the clinic.
Luckily, you were pretty close already, so you didn't have to walk very far.

The boy takes you inside and helps you on one of the waiting room chairs.

You get aid a few minutes later, and the medics put a bandage on your knee.