Chapter Text
Really, a party was in order.
Not only had it been way, way too long since Ernesto had gotten to play host, not only was it close enough to Christmas that parties were just expected. No, he had something really worth celebrating. Two things, actually.
1. Come New Year’s, the kid was finally going home.
2. He’d have his best friend back.
That…sounded a little harsh. After all, it wasn’t like Ernesto hated the kid. Miguel wasn’t too annoying–wasn’t annoying at all, honestly–and he seemed to worship the ground Ernesto walked on, which was definitely a good thing for his ego. The problem was with Hector. Since he’d come home to find a kid in their living room, Hector–Hector, of all people!–had become all responsibility. He didn’t want to go out for drinks, because Miguel had to finish his homework. He didn’t want to head to the party in the next town over, because there was no way he’d be able to get a babysitter on such short notice. He didn’t even want to film them rehearsing, because it was time for Miguel’s guitar lesson and “I really don’t want the chamaco filmed, amigo, sorry.”
Well, there was no excuse tonight. Ernesto himself had arranged for Senora Olguin on the floor below to take Miguel for the night (She loved the kid, so it’s not like it was asking that much of her.) So Hector was completely free to relax and have fun, just like they did before Miguel showed up.
This night was going to be perfect.
Except…
…for Imelda.
Hector had mentioned he’d be a little late. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d be arriving late with the girlfriend he hadn’t even said he was planning to bring. Ernesto could feel his smile freeze as their neighbor’s sharp eyes rested on him, and he quickly turned his attention to Hector.
“Ah…so you brought Imelda,” he said. He tried to make it sound like he was fine with this, but ended up sounding very not fine with this. Not that Hector noticed.
“Well, I thought it’d be fun,” Hector said with a shrug, acting like he hadn’t
just broken the bro code. “I mean, I’ve told her about the fun times you and I’ve had at parties, and it seemed silly not to bring her when we’re having one of those right here.” He grinned at her as he slid an arm around her shoulders. “And I think you’ll have fun, diosa.”
The look on Imelda’s face said otherwise, but she sighed and patted his hand. “Just an hour. We agreed on that.” She glanced up at Ernesto with an annoyed puff. Ernesto gave her his most Ernesto smile.
“Well, I’m…glad you’re here. And I hope–”
“If you’re as good a host as Hector says you are, you’ll tell me where the alcohol is,” she interrupted flatly.
Ernesto stared at her for a half-second before his eyes flicked up to Hector, who shrugged, then back down to Imelda. He nodded over toward their little kitchen.
“In there. Enjoy.”
Imelda led the way toward the kitchen, and Ernesto did his best to telepathically tell Hector to not spend the rest of the night cooing over her on the couch and ignoring the rest of the party. Considering all he got was a wide grin, it didn’t work.
Well, he’d sort that later. More guests were starting to filter in, and Ernesto wasn’t about to let Hector’s latest “soulmate” ruin his night.
—
Why did grown-up always have to ruin everything…
Miguel groaned to himself as he lay despondently draped over the arm of Senora Olguin’s couch. Everything in her dumb apartment smelled like cat, and not in a good way. Tia Imelda’s apartment never smelled like this, and her TV wasn’t cracked on the side either.
“You doing alright in there?” Senora Olguin called. “You’re being awful quiet.”
“Si, I’m fine.” Miguel called back, not looking away from his episode of El Tigre.
He’d been so excited when he’d found out about Ernesto’s huge party, that all kinds of musicians and youtube stars and like, probably all kinds of other super famous people were going to be there. But earlier that night Tio Héctor had suddenly told Miguel that no, he didn’t get to go to the coolest fiesta ever, he was going to stay with a babysitter.
I wasn’t fair. Especially since Tia Imelda got to go!
Miguel wined at the unfairness of it all, letting himself slide down off the couch to sit on the floor. Which also smelled like cat.
He stared at the screen despondently. What would El Tigre do in a unjust situation like this? Probably something cooler than sitting on the floor. Miguel squinted at the screen in thought. In fact, Manny Rivera would probably do whatever it took to make things right, everything always ended up well for him at the end of the episodes anyway, even if adults told him not to do things at the beginning of them.
Miguel looked over to the kitchen, but Senora Olguin was out of sight. He knew that following the logic of a cartoon was kinda dumb, he was eight after all, but maybe if he had a good enough excuse…
Miguel quietly got to his feet and walked out of the living room as quietly as possible, watching the kitchen doorway.
“Senora Olguin?” He called, speaking loudly to cover the sound of him turning the knob of the front door. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“You don’t need to ask me for that kind of permission chiquito.” She called back.
“Gracias!” Miguel said, nearly shouting as he slipped the door closed behind him.
He looked around the balcony, grinning to himself. He was out.
There was loud music from the floor above as well as down by the pool area across the parking lot, and adults were all over the place. Miguel pulled up his hood and started weaving his way between the nearest adults to get to the stairway, humming the El Tigre theme song to himself as he went. It took a little struggling, but he eventually made it through the crowd and to their apartment.
Victory.
There was loud music playing and the apartment felt totally different when it was packed with complete strangers. Miguel slid his way through the doorway and scooted along the wall, scanning the crowd as best he could to try and avoid wherever Ernesto and Tio Hector might be.
Miguel ducked into the corner of the room where there was a little more space, hunkering down by where Ernesto’s livestream camera and laptop were set up to capture the party.
Miguel looked around the packed room. Well, he was in.
Now what.
Movement on the computer screen caught his eye and he looked over to see the comment section of the stream shifting and scrolling with activity. Miguel checked over his shoulder again before leaning in. He technically wasn’t supposed to touch Ernesto’s stuff without permission, but he’d let Miguel talk to the chat before, so it was probably fine.
Cruzita41: CHAMACOOOOOOO!!!!
Badnug: hey kid! How’d you get in???
Littlebear119: wait, i thought hector said he wasnt going to be at the party tho
Cruzita41: HEY HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?
Miguel smiled at the camera, waving a little. “I’m not super supposed to be here,” he whispered, “I’m just coming in for a minute.”
Littlebear119: ahhhhhhh, I seeeeeee.
P0c0l0c0: this is a judgement free zone
Hectorriveraseyelashes: OKAY IM STILL AT WORK BUT IM SNEAKING IN ON MY PHONE
Badnug: Hey lashes!
Cruzita41: Hi Lashes!
Littlebear119: does your tio know you’re here? Maybe you should go let him know you’re here?
Littlebear119: Oh hey lashes, how’s work?
Hectorriveraseyelashes: uhhhhhhhggggggggg…………i fricking hate this job
Hectorriveraseyelashes: HAVE THERE BEEN ANY HECTOR SIGHTINGS
Cruzita41: Not really?
Littlebear119: i feel ya, work is the worst.
Badnug: uh oh,
Cruzita41: Chamaco look out!
Miguel squinted at the chat as it became super busy, messages tumbling over each other, and then jumped as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
He looked up to see a very unamused Ernesto looking down at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs?” Ernesto asked, sounded very unpleased.
Miguel glanced back at the screen.
Cruzita41: he’s dead. Put him on your ofrenda, he is dead.
Badnugg: RIP Miguel
“I, uh, maybe?” Miguel said, thoughts scrambling to try and remember what his prepared excuse had been. Oh, right. “I was just coming to get my guitar! I forgot it and just wanted to grab it real quick!”
Ernesto made that really long tight kind of sigh that mean he was either super tired, super annoyed, or both.
“Well then. We had better go get you guitar.” Ernesto said flatly, firmly steering Miguel away from the computer.
Miguel grinned sheepishly and waved at all the adults looking down at him curiously as Ernesto carved a path through the crowd to Miguel’s bedroom.
“Hurry up.” Ernesto ordered, holding open the bedroom door.
Miguel obediently hurried in and out, snagging his guitar as quickly as he could. Well, at least it hadn’t be Tio Hector who had caught him, and definitely not Tia Imelda.
“Hector.” Ernesto called over the crowd.
Nooooooo.
Miguel wanted to disappear a little bit as his Tio materialized next to Ernesto, looking down and folding his arms grimly when he saw Miguel.
“Uh, hola Tio Hector.” Miguel said sheepishly.
“You had one job chamaco.” Hector said, rolling his eyes.
“But it’s so boring down there! And everything smells like cat!” Miguel complained.
“What’s, what’s going on over here?”
Everyone looked over as Imelda walked up to Hector, taking his arm and leaning against him heavily.
“I thought Miguel was supposed to be downstairs?” Tia Imelda said, looking more confused than Miguel could ever remember seeing her before.
“Si, he was.” Hector said, sighing.
—
“Well then why isn’t he?” Imelda asked.
Ernesto stifled a sigh as he watched Hector keep his drunk girlfriend from falling over. He’d forgotten how quickly Imelda got wasted. Which was embarrassingly fast.
“Here, you stay here diosa, I’ll take him back downstairs.” Hector said, kissing her on the forehead before glancing at Ernesto. “Could you get her some water or something? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” Ernesto said, “but she does not get to lean on me.”
“Gracias. Come on Miguel.”
Ernesto watched them slowly weave their way back through the crowd and out the doorway. First Imelda, then the kid, now drunk Imelda and no Hector.
Spectacular.
“Isn’t this party over yet?” Imelda asked, absently tugging her hair out of its braid.
“I wish.” Ernesto said, leading the way to the kitchen.
Luckily she followed him, he wasn’t about to take her by the arm or anything. They made it to the kitchen without incident and soon she was sipping a glass of water, despite eying the stronger drinks nearby on the counter.
Well she was an adult. She could handle herself.
Ernesto rubbed his forehead as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving her behind. Who knew, maybe if she got drunk enough she’d go back to her apartment to sleep it off and Ernesto could still salvage at least part of the evening with Hector. One could always hope.
He puffed out a breath as he looked around the apartment. Ordinarily, he loved seeing the place filled with people and bursting with life, but…well, with the way tonight was going, it was just crowded and loud. If he were a pettier person, he might just cancel the party right here and now, since it clearly wasn’t going the way he’d planned. But if nothing else, Ernesto de la Cruz was one hell of a host, and so help him God, he was going to throw an excellent party.
But he still needed air.
Luckily, half the party-goers were concentrated around the pool downstairs. So, with the walk down the stairs giving him plenty of time to regroup and tell himself that he was a good host and that everyone was having a good time and that even though Hector and his girlfriend and his kid were trying their best to ruin things, he was having a good time too. So by the time he stepped out to the pool area, his signature de la Cruz smile was back in place and he was happily back to rubbing elbows with his guests.
For a good ten minutes, things were great. There was small talking and making plans with people to meet up and catch up that he had no intention of following through with and talking about sports that Ernesto had zero interest in. Normal party things. And he might have continued with that if one conversation didn’t catch his ear.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve known Cruz for years. He and I go way back. You know, before he teamed up with his current writing partner, he and I talked about collaborating.”
What.
He turned curiously to see who this supposed “collaborator” was. A short man, looking very at ease as he tipped his fedora back slightly, smiled at the group around him.
“It’s a shame it didn’t end up working out, though, yanno? But it’s been a few years, and we’ve both gotten so much better. A collab’s basically in the bag.”
It took all of Ernesto’s willpower to fight an eyeroll, instead taking a breath and putting the de la Cruz smile back on as he walked over to the little circle. Ordinarily, the little gasps and smiles of everyone in the circle would be great, but for now his focus was on the short man he’d squeezed beside. He looked around at everyone, a well-groomed eyebrow raised.
“Mind if I borrow him for a bit?” he asked, setting his hand on the man’s shoulder just a touch harder than necessary. “We need to talk about collaborating.”
He watched the man’s easy grin falter, and as they walked away to a more secluded area of the pool, he kept his tone friendly as he asked, “So what’s your name again? I can’t seem to recall it.”
“Ah, it’s Gustavo. We…we did meet, you know, I just…” Gustavo faltered into silence as Ernesto held up his free hand.
“I’m sure we did. But, look, between friends, I don’t appreciate…”
He trailed off as he caught sight of Hector bobbing between the guests, looking slightly concerned as he talked to a few of the guests, occasionally holding up his hand a little beneath his chin. That was…Imelda’s height. Did he lose Imelda? Ay, Dios mio, Ernesto would never hear the end of it if Hector lost his girlfriend.
He was just about to give a long sigh when he heard Gustavo give a little laugh of disbelief. “Dios mio, how did Chorizo get in here?”
Oh.
Ohhhh, no. Ernesto knew exactly who this was.
His grip tightened, just slightly, on Gustavo’s shoulder before he relaxed and smiled. “You know, my memory’s not always the best. Remind me again how we met, Gustavo? Was it at a festival?”
Gustavo’s expression fell slightly. “Well, no. Bu–”
“Well, then, you must be a fairly big YouTube star. Have you been to any conventions? If you say which panels you’ve been on, I’ll probably remember.”
“N-no, I’m not…I don’t really have a…”
Ernesto snapped his fingers. “Oh, I’ve got it. You must be confusing me for my writing partner. You’d never guess from looking at it, but he went to one of the best schools for music in all of Mexico. What university did you go to?”
Gustavo squirmed slightly, but Ernesto didn’t let up his grip. “Oh, well, it…it was a small school. Private, actually, and…”
“Then did you meet him in an orchestra? He’s played in a couple, when his friends have asked.”
Gustavo looked violently uncomfortable by this point. Good. “I…well, I actually haven’t…”
Ernesto cut him off with an easy laugh, giving his shoulder a pat. “Honestly, you would not believe how talented he is. Why, one time at a party–I think it was with the school he works for–he outplayed a violinist on his own violin.” He gave a laugh, pretending not to notice the way Gustavo had gone slightly green. “Hector’s never even learned how to play violin.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I got off-track. So should we talk about this collaboration?” Gustavo swallowed hard, and Ernesto’s brow creased. “My friend, you’re not looking so good. Maybe we should talk about this another time.”
Gustavo nodded mutely, and Ernesto finally let him go, smirking once Gustavo walked away in obvious shock. Well. At least one good thing happened at this party.