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Stories

•~=(Your POV)=~•

Laughter filled the air, the pure sound ringing in your ears. You're sat around a little fire with some friends, telling each other stories and jokes in a little area called Shantytown.

"HA! Tell us the one about the, the uh, the cucumber again, niña!" Chicharrón says to you, wiping tears off his skull from Tía Chelo's last joke. "Oh Cheech, you've heard it a thousand times since I first told you all. Plus, it's not that happy of an ending. And it was a pickle," you tell him, once again. Taking another shot of tequila, the older skeleton downs it before slamming it onto the table, almost shattering the glass. "But the first part is funny! I want to hear it again!" he shouts, belching loudly before leaning back into his chair. Rolling your eyes, smirking, and shaking your head, you retell your embarrassing story.

But before you could even get out a word, a familiar voice is heard. "Ay, amigos! Having fun without me, are we?" A tall, lanky skeleton is seen strutting into the circle, plopping down right next to you. "Hey Hector, hows it going? Still trying to find the perfect costume that you know'll fail?" you ask him, playfully nudging him in the ribs. "Ow, mi palomita! And no, I am not looking for it, because I already know what it is!"

"Oh boy, here we go again," Tía Chelo playfully groans. Chuckling, Hector stands up and pulls out a fluffy wing and a long mustache. Turning around, he puts it on, and then talks in a higher-pitched voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you -" he spins around, looking smug, "- Frida Kahlo!"

Tía Chelo claps, and Cheech gives a thumbs up. "Uh, who's Frida Kahlo?" you ask, super confused. Everyone stops what they're doing, giving you an incredulous expression. "You know, Frida Kahlo! The most famous Spanish artist of all time!" Hector says, doing a pose. "Guys, again, I took Hawaiian, not Spanish. I could tell you the entire bloodline of the Kamehameha, but I have no idea who Frida Kahlo is," you say, pouring yourself a shot of fire whiskey. You tip the glass to drink, but it's snatched away from you by Tía. "Hey! That was mine!" you whine, and she shakes her head.

"No drinking for you, niña. You are still 18," she says. Snatching it back, you smirk. "But I'm dead, so it shouldn't matter. And technically, I'm 22," you flaunt, standing on top of the rotten log to drink it. Just as the glass tips forwards, Hector grabs it and swallows it before you do. "Hector! Kanapapiki!" you swear, but everyone laughs. "I don't know what that meant, but I assume it was a swear word," Hector replies, giggling like a little school girl. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to handle that type of drink. It's too strong for you, and you don't have a good alcohol tolerance."

Taking the shot glass back, you throw it at him and hit his head. It bounces off and into your chest, while he slips and falls with a small yelp. You set it down on the bucket that's being used as a table, then sit down on the log so you straddle it, facing your best friend. Leaning forward, you grab his little neck tie to pull him closer to you, and only stop when your faces are just a few inches apart. His hat falls off, and he reaches for it, but you jerk him closer so that he looks at you.

"Wanna tell me again what I'm intolerant of?" you growl, giving a seductive smirk. You two stare into each other's eyes for a few minutes, your (e/c) orbs meeting his soft magenta eyes. Hector mumbles something, and you're about to ask him what he said when you're interrupted. "¡Ay!, get a room! Seriously, you two have more tension than my wife and I di-" Cheech scolds, when a golden glow ripples through his bones. "Cheech!" you shout, letting go of Hector's tie and to stand up, stepping over different items to get to Cheech. The taller skeleton falls backwards when you let go, then grabs his hat and trots over.

You squat down next to the father figure. The older, smaller skeleton slumps over a little, fatigued. "Ah, míja, it is coming. My família is forgetting me," Cheech groans, unable to sit back up. Tía Chelo scoots closer to the chair, listening to the old man's breathing. "He does not have long. Hector, take him to the hamaca," she orders, and the ragged bag of bones scoops him up. "Alright. C'mon gran hombré, let's go see the stars," Hector says, and you follow them to Cheech's little shack.

Laying him down, Hector grabs the short skeleton's hat, adjusting it before it falls off. "There we go. Better, Chicharrón?" he asks, and Cheech huffs. "No. You shouldn't have to take care of me," he pouts, and you chuckle through watery eyes. "Ah, ke kāne nui, it's just apart of life. And death." You kneel next to the hammock filled with junk and cover Cheech's hand with your own.

He sighs, and settles down into the fabric. After a moment, he opens his eyes back up and looks to Hector. "Hey pequeño chorizo-" Cheech starts, but the yellowed skeleton cuts him off with an annoyed ¡oye!. You give them a confused look, and the older man laughs. "Ah, you'll learn in time. But right now, I want you to try something. Hector, go grab the drinks," he resumes, and the taller man scoffs then smiles, leaving.

Turning back to you, Cheech gently grabs your chin with his free hand and makes you look at him. "You should tell him, bebita," he says, and you look down, not meeting his eyes while your skull turns a light pink. "Tell who what? I don't know what you're talking about..." you lie unconvincingly. Cheech chuckles and squeezes your hand. "Hector's family was not... kind to him. He needs another love in his life, before it is too late," he explains, and you sigh. "It's not easy, Cheech. I've had crushes before, and I've dated, but I haven't felt what I feel for him before."

"Ah, chuta, (Y/N). Sometimes, you just have to jump into it."

"But I've jumped into other relationships, and they never turned out good."

"Well trust me on this one, míja," he stresses, and you give in. "Alright, but on one condition," you huff, and he smiles smugly. "I get to decide when AND what I tell him. Don't pull me into one of those 'last wish' things," you say, voice cracking at the word last. Cheech gives a big hearty chuckle, yet another golden glow goes through his bones. Sitting up straight, you help him readjust his position, getting him comfortable. Once he's okay, the older skeleton looks back up at you. "Míja, I wouldn't dare tell you to do or say something. You're too stubborn for that," he sighs, and you chuckle. "Well, who did I learn that from?"

"Learn what? Are you two sharing stories without me?! Shame!" Hector walks in, a bottle of vodka in on hand and three shot glasses in the other. You give him a small smile, and Cheech signals to pour the drinks. "Now, before you go do your crazy shenanigans, I want to see you take your first drink," the shorter man says. Acting like you've done this before, you shoot him a toothy, mischievous grin. "What makes you think that I'm new to this?" you ask cockily, and both skeletons give you an annoyed expression.

Sighing, you give in and pick up the small cup. Eyeing the liquid, you take a deep breath and drink the booze quickly. It burns on the way down, and you cough wildly, hitting your rib cage as if it would help. "Th-that was... good..." you groan, voice already raspy from the strong drink.

Both Cheech and Hector laugh at your reaction, then take their shots. After they're done, the younger man scoops up all of the glasses and the bottle, ready to leave. "Thanks Cheech, but I need to go see Coco. Hopefully they'll let me in this time," he says, and you all chuckle softly. "Yeah, yeah, go. Don't let me slow ya down," he replies, and you stand up. "Okay. Don't go anywhere," you say playfully, and the shorter skeleton smiles. "How could I? I've got everything I need right here."

Turning to leave, you wave and follow Hector out the door. Both of you go over to Tía Chelo, and she looks up from her game of checkers with another Forgotten. "How is he?" she asks, and you shake your head. "He's comfortable." The older lady sighs, and takes the drinks and glasses from your best friend. "Thank you. Now, go have fun. It is Dia de los Muertos, after all," she says, and you both nod.

Leaving Shantytown, Hector nudges you. "Hey, mi palomita. Don't be upset over Cheech. He will be fine for now," he says, and you cross your arms, looking down. "Yeah... he was just the dad I never had, no biggie..." you say, and the male sighs, scratching the back of his neck.

After a moment of silence, he looks back up, remembering why you're out here. "Hey! Come to the Bridge with me. For some reason, my failures always make you laugh...?" he says, and you look back up at him with a slight smile. "'Cuz it's funny watching you try to win over the clearance lady with that cheesy grin of yours."

"What grin? Oh, you mean this one?" Hector asks, and he shoots you one of his infamous charming smiles. Feeling your soul skip several beats, you have to tear your eyes away. "Yeah, that's suuuure to get 'em to let you over the Bridge," you say snarkily, and he rolls his eyes. "C'mon, it's almost 8. Let's get going."