Quick A/N

Sorry for taking so long. Super quick recap: Miguel sang at the Plaza, uncovered some stuff about Ernesto to the world and even more stuff to his family. Now, Miguel is up for a chat with his parents about the events of a certain life-changing day. Will Miguel tell the truth? Will his parents believe him? Read to find out!

Miguel sat on his unmade bed, breathing deeply, his eyes closed. He was afraid that if he opened them he would find the stern faces of his parents, terrified that he would find the disappointment that he'd seen a few days ago when he had announced that he wanted to be a musician. At least he thought it had been disappointment. So he kept his eyes closed, not really paying attention to his mother's soft words, afraid of their meaning. That was until he felt a small, warm and slightly calloused hand on his cheek.

He stared at his mother's dark chocolate eyes that seemed to melt away any kind of walls that Miguel tried to put up.

"—are worried Miguel" hearing his name, Miguel started focusing on his mother's voice. "Ever since Día de los Muertos you have been physically closer to the family than ever before but I have never seen you acting so distant at times. It's as if your body had returned from wherever you went that day but your heart and mind had stayed there."

"We didn't want to load you with questions on your return," his father took over, "you seemed so tired but so happy when Mamá Coco sang along to your song. We didn't want to break your moment. But after today... we need answers Miguel. How long have you been playing music? What else have you been hiding from us? Why did you say that de la Cruz was your great grandfather but days later accuse him of being a murderer? Where did you go after you ran away on Día de los Muertos? How did you know about that song?"

Miguel let out a short but bitter laugh, surprising both himself and his parents.

"Mamá, if I tell you, you'll probably think that I'm... un poco loco, you know?" His answer was followed by a silent exchange between his parents, a soothing hand on his back making him somehow feel the tiniest of bits better.

"It's okay, Miguelito. No matter what you tell us, we'll still love you. Please, just tell us the truth, let us help you."

His father's words were something that he had wanted to hear but what he really needed...

"I'll believe whatever you tell us Miguel. And whatever you tell us, te prometo, Miguel, it won't leave this room if you don't want it to."

Miguel looked up at his mother, knowing very well that when she promised something, there was nothing in the world that could make her break that promise. She nodded, encouragingly. His father patted his back softly.

"Well," he started, "I guess I should with the morning of Día de los Muertos..."

And so, Miguel began his tale.

A/N this is very short for the amount of time passed since I last updated and I'm really sorry for that. I need to know if you guys want me to continue this story. I don't really know if I want to continue it. please comment if you want it to continue. Thanks!