Chapter Text
“Imelda, I-”
“You’ve ruined it, Rivera.”
Héctor flinched as she snapped at him, holding his own arm tightly enough to cut off blood flow as he cowered on the other side of her desk.
“I can’t believe you messed up this badly, you had one job.” Imelda slammed her hand on the desk, making him jump.
“I-, I’m sorry Imelda,” Héctor said, trying to force himself to stop shaking, the blood frantically rushing in his ears was nearly blocking out his own thoughts, “I messed up, this is all my fault, one of the students got ahold of my phone and they saw your texts and then you came in and they realized who “Imelda” was and they’re all bright kids diosa, I couldn’t-”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”
If Héctor could feel his arm anymore, the pain of his own nails digging into his sleeve would have been alarming. What he felt instead was the very familiar sensation of sliding backward toward a cliff edge, with nothing, and no one, to grab onto.
“Imelda, I-”
“Don’t call me that either.”
No.
He was losing her.
He had promised himself it would be different this time and he was losing her.
“Please.” Héctor said, his voice shaking, “Lo siento, I’ve messed up, but it could still work? I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about, about us, but it was going to have to come out sometime, right?”
“The agreement we had was that our relationship would be kept secret until Isaid it could be made public,” the pencil in Imelda’s vice grip trembled slightly, “and you broke your side of the agreement.”
“I know this is my fault,” Héctor pleaded, not daring to go around the desk to her, instead getting on one knee at the front of her desk, making himself smaller, “but I don’t think it’s really so bad, we can-”
“Not really so bad?” Imelda barked, “You broke our agreement, my trust, you’ve exposed us to the entire school. My position as the director will be questioned, my status as a woman with authority in a white collar job will be laughed at. Everything I’ve worked for in my career, my reputation, my position, my respect, it could all be gone tomorrow because I was caught secretly dating my employee.”
There was a bitter metallic taste in Héctor’s mouth. It took his reeling brain a long moment to realize he’d bit his lip at the venom that had been in Imelda’s last word.
“What can I do?” Héctor asked, “Tell me what to do, anything, I’ll do anything to fix this, I can make it right again.”
She stared at him, making him shake as he waited. Hoping, praying she would give him some impossible task he could accomplish, some order that he could carry out to earn her back, to show his devotion. Something, anything, to fix this.
She drew in a shaky breath and reached behind her neck. A moment later her hand came away with a thin silver chain, pulling out the violet pendant that she had been wearing under her blouse. The necklace he had given her two months ago. The one gift he’d known she wouldn’t be able to turn away because it was exactly perfect for her.
He watched it clatter to her desk.
“Take that.” Imelda pointed to the necklace, then the door, “And go home.”
Everything inside Héctor’s brain jostled and screamed at such a high pitch that it all blurred together into a shrill deafening static. Leaving him silently staring at her.
“We’re through, Rivera.” Imelda said, staring him down unflinchingly, “It’s over. I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Do not attempt to contact me. Do not address me as anything but “La Directora.” Do not discuss our relationship, or this talk, with anyone. Claro?”
Héctor couldn’t move, so someone else must have made his hand reach out and gently pick the necklace up off the desk, cradling it to his chest.
“Please.” he said softly. So softly he wasn’t sure if he’d actually said it out loud.
“If you value your employment I advise you to get out of my school immediately.” Imelda said.
Héctor took a step back. This was all wrong. But somehow…he’d known it would happen eventually hadn’t he? Hadn’t he seen this exact moment in his nightmares for months now? No one ever stayed, they all left eventually.
Because he always ruined it.
“Leave.” Imelda said sharply, and the break in her voice shattered whatever was left whole inside Héctor.
“I’m sorry.” Héctor whispered, then turned and ducked out of her office.
He walked in a shell-shocked daze down the hallway, and out the front door, seeing nothing as his feet took him across the parking lot. He’d left his keys in his classroom, but he walked right past his motorcycle.
He didn’t see the way that Imelda closed the office door behind him and locked it. How she sank down to curl up against the door. Or how she did not cry until her throat was raw and the rest of the school had gone home for the day.
Her secretary listening outside for a full hour after closing, biting her thumb before finally deciding to let tragedy run its course, and leaving for home.
***
Ernesto looked up from his laptop when he heard the crying.
He sat up straight at the kitchen table, listening hard in the empty apartment. Héctor was out late again, undoubtedly somewhere with his terrible boss girlfriend, leaving the place quiet for the night.
At least, it had sounded like crying. Sounded like an adult crying actually…but…maybe he’d misheard?
He listened for another moment, and then slowly went back to typing, lightly tapping to keys, still on edge.
There it was again.
Ernesto snapped his computer shut, getting up from the table as he zeroed in on the noise, a bad feeling already in his stomach. He strode to the front door, jerking it open.
“Héctor?”
Curled up on the dark stoop was Héctor, long legs folded up on themselves, apparently trying to look as small as possible as he clutched something to his chest.
Ernesto could barely see his face in the dim porch light but the strangled sounds of grief told him plenty about the tears he would see if he could.
“Héctor, are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Ernesto asked, dragging Héctor up to his feet and pulling him inside as quickly as he could.
“I-I’m sorry,” Héctor choked, his voice raw, like he’d been crying for a long time already, “I forgot my keys, and, and I know you hate it when I cry, and, and, and-”
“Héctor, what happened?” Ernesto demanded, looking his friend over, unable to find any obvious signs of injury.
“I ruined it.” Héctor said, somehow managing to look small even as they stood in the entryway, shoulders slumped and head hanging as he kept clutching something to his chest. Something that left a silver chain trailing out from between his fingers, “I-I ruined it, and, and now she’s gone.”
Ernesto stared at Héctor, his hand on his shoulders as Héctor dissolved into a fresh wave of sobs, unable to meet his eyes.
“She…? Imelda left you?” Ernesto asked, his grip on Héctor’s shoulders tightening as his friend tried to go limp again, “That icy, heartless-”
He’d known this would happen, he’d known it, he’d tried to warn Héctor. But being right didn’t make things any better now that tragedy had finally struck.
“It was, my, my fault.” Héctor sobbed, shaking his head, looking like he was doing his best just to keep standing.
Ernesto looked at him, scrambling to try and figure out what to do. Héctor was always upset when girls left him, but this time felt different, this time felt dangerously bad. Ernesto had to fix this, fast.
“Have you had anything to drink yet?” Ernesto asked, dragging Héctor into the kitchen after him, not daring to leave him alone like this for even a second as he rifled through the cupboards, finding two bottles of tequila.
“I don’t want to drink.” Héctor said miserably.
“Too bad. We’re going to the roof.” Ernesto said, stuffing his keys in his pocket, grabbing a blanket off the couch, and pulling Héctor back out into the night toward the service stairs.
The night was a clear but moonless one, leaving the rooftop dark and empty under the stars.
“Sit.” Ernesto commanded, wrapping the blanket tightly around Héctor’s shoulders.
Héctor obeyed, sitting up against a cooling vent, tears silently running down his face.
“Drink this.” Ernesto said, prying the top off one of the bottles of tequila with his pocket knife and handing it to Héctor, who took it mechanically. “Drink it until you’re ready to tell me exactly what that woman did to you.”
Héctor obediently took a long drink, a worryingly long one, and then silently pulled the blanket tighter around himself, closing his eyes against the tears that ran down his face.
Ernesto grit his teeth as he watched Héctor’s shoulder shake as he cried silently. Whatever that ice queen had done to him, it had hurt Héctor far worse than any girl before. It made Ernesto want to march back down the stairs and pound on her apartment door until he got some answers.
This wasn’t going to be something he could shake Héctor out of. He could already tell it was going to be a long time before Héctor would be able to speak.
Ernesto grunted as he sat down next to Héctor, starting to pry the cap off his own bottle. They were both going to need it tonight.
“If you need to cry then get it all out.” Ernesto said, taking a sip from his bottle, “I’m not leaving until you’re alright, got that?”
Héctor hesitantly leaned against him, and Ernesto took another sip, his silence telling Héctor that it was alright this one time. Héctor curled up against his shoulder and continued to cry, a little less silently now.
Why did Héctor always attract the wrong people?
Ernesto tipped his head back against the vent, looking up at the sky. The ice queen had been a special kind of awful, playing Héctor like a violin, demanding he keep outrageous made up rules and taking advantage of his softness to a disgusting degree.
Because Héctor was soft. It was part of what made him such a good musician and friend, but it was also what made him so badly in need of protection. His painted weasel of a mother had cowed Héctor into treasuring a kick to face from people he was attached to ever since he was a kid.
Ernesto took another drink, squinting at the burn and at the memory of seeing eight year old Héctor fawning over his mother after two years of not seeing her. Not even noticing the shallow way that she smiled over him, praising him for his doubtless future musical fame instead of seeing the actual son she should have been raising.
Which had made Héctor unable to insist on what he deserved, even now.
Just like Ernesto’s mother.
Ernesto took another drag at his bottle, trying to wash away the intrusive memory of his father shouting Mamá into tears over some inane demand of his, often taking it much farther than words, only to have Mamá turn around and insist that of course he was right when Ernesto asked if she was okay.
Because it never mattered how many many bruises she had or how drunk Papá had been, it was always her that had “ruined it,” it was always somehow her fault.
“Maybe I can still fix it.” Héctor whispered hoarsely.
“Shut up and drink your tequila.” Ernesto said, a little too roughly, “No talking unless you’re going to talk about what she did. You’ve been miserable for months now Héctor, she didn’t deserve you and you are not going back to someone that’s hurt you this badly. She does not get a second chance, claro?”
Héctor said nothing. The silence stretched so long that Ernesto would have thought he’d fallen asleep if he wasn’t still trembling.
Alright, no talking tonight. That was fine, there would be plenty of time to talk later.
Ernesto put his arm around Héctor, feeling like he was trying to shield a puppy from the cold. He closed his eyes, trying to organize all the things he would say later when Héctor was in a state to listen.
By the time Ernesto opened his eyes again the night air had become chill, the city around them dark between the streetlights. Ernesto checked his watch, grimacing at the hours that had passed.
Héctor was silent and still behind him, but when he looked he saw that Héctor was holding his empty bottle and staring quietly at the piece of jewelry he held in his hand.
A very large part of Ernesto wanted to grab the necklace and hurl it off the roof as far as he could to get it as far away as possible from Héctor.
“Let’s head back down, alright?” Ernesto said, grimacing at his stiffness as he pushed himself up, “You need to sleep.”
“I think I’m going to stay here for a little while longer.” Héctor said quietly, not looking up.
“Héctor you have to sleep.” Ernesto said sternly, “You still have work tomorrow right? Hold on, wait, unless you got fired too?”
Héctor shook his head. “No, I didn’t get fired. Thank you Nesto, I’ll be down soon, you can go on.”
Ernesto hesitated for a long moment, looking Héctor over. Well, at least he wasn’t hysterical anymore, having apparently cried himself out. He was going to have an excruciating hangover in the morning judging by the empty bottle…but it had gotten him to calm down.
“Do you want me to stay?” Ernesto asked, taking the empty bottle from him.
Héctor shook his head quietly, looking up from his necklace and out at the night horizon.
“Alright.” Ernesto said reluctantly, “Here’s my key so you can get back in. Don’t stay up here too long, and don’t do anything stupid.”
He set his apartment key beside Héctor and then turned to go, only looking back as he descended the service stairs to see Héctor still gazing hollowly out at the night sky. His spark entirely snuffed out.
Ernesto paused as he passed Imelda’s door on the way back to their apartment. He narrowed his eyes at it, imagining her probably laughing it up with friends earlier that evening before getting a full night’s sleep. Meanwhile her victim completely unraveled just above her.
Ernesto’s fists clenched, he could just imagine kicking her door in and giving her a real scare for what she’d done to Héctor.
But no.
He satisfied himself with making an obscene gesture at her window as he walked on, letting himself into his apartment with the spare key he’d carried since the first time Héctor had locked himself out.
Later Ernesto stared at the ceiling as he lay in bed, knowing that Héctor was still up there.
Well. At least now it was finally over. At least now he could finally start helping Héctor pick up the pieces and move on from his latest disaster and everything could get back to normal.
He turned into his side, adjusting his pillow. Héctor would be fragile for a while, he knew that from experience, meaning that it was very likely that he wouldn’t want to go on their summer tour in a few weeks like they’d planned.
Ernesto closed his eyes with a long sigh, grimacing at the thought of going alone, but if Héctor was truly as broken as he seemed then he would be useless on tour anyway.
Ernesto stayed awake a while longer, listening in vain for the sound of Héctor coming back into the apartment.
He slipped into sleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, still having not have heard them.