#I’ll draw Miguel in costume better soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slusheeduck · 6 years

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Marco and Miguel, 100, please ^_^

“Marco?” Miguel banged his fist on the trailer door again. “Marcoooo, come on, I know you’re in there.”

No answer.

Miguel frowned, shoving his hands into his coat pocket. He’d known, of course, that today’s filming would be hard. It was the poisoning scene, of course it’d be hard. Most of the cast had been worried about him–after all, re-enacting your great-great-grandfather’s death wasn’t exactly a great experience.

But Marco had been a nervous wreck for the past few days. He hadn’t shown it, of course, especially not when they were working, but Miguel caught the stiff shoulders, the forcibly composed face, the frayed bracelet on his wrist. But Miguel hadn’t been able to do anything to help; every time he tried to talk to him about it, Marco would assert he was fine, Miguel, and make him drop the subject.

But something had happened with the poisoning scene. He hadn’t seen Marco’s face during it, but apparently it’d been intense given the silence that followed after the director yelled cut, and he’d left without a single word immediately afterward.

Miguel banged on the door again. “Marco! Seriously!”

Finally, he heard Marco’s quiet, cracking voice. “Go away.”

“No.” A frustrated noise on the other end only strengthened his resolve. “I’m not leaving. Not until you let me in.”

A long stretch of silence passed before he finally heard a long sigh. “Fine. It’s open.”

Miguel wasted no time in opening up the door and walking into the trailer, stopping short as he saw Marco sitting on the floor, still in costume and covered in charcoal. He stepped carefully around the sheets and sheets of sketches surrounding him–some of objects in the trailer, some just abstract shapes. Marco was focused on the sketchbook in his hand, carefully brushing his finger along a thick, dark line. Miguel pressed his lips together, then picked up a few of the pages to sit down beside him.

“So…today was hard.”

Marco didn’t respond, eyes fixed hard on his work.

“But…we did it in one take! So it’s over and we don’t have to worry about it anymore!”

Still no answer, aside from a few scrapes of charcoal. Miguel looked over at Marco, then sighed.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

“I have a therapist for that,” Marco said flatly, still not looking at Miguel as he did a few quick, sharp strokes on his paper. Miguel sighed, resting his chin in his hand.

“Well, I do have some experience your therapist wouldn’t. Unless she wound up cursed and meeting both our great-great-grandfathers, too,” he said, half-smiling.

Marco still didn’t look at him, but his hand stilled. As he stared hard at his sketchbook, his eyes started to shine slightly as he pressed his lips together hard. He was silent for a long moment, then took a quick, sharp breath.

“I could have killed you,” he murmured.

Miguel blinked, then shrugged. “I mean, unless you really poisoned that apple juice…”

“No, shut up.” Marco finally dropped charcoal and sketchbook, running a hand over his face and ignoring the gray streaks he left behind. “I mean…I could have done it. If I actually needed to poison you, I would have. I wouldn’t have even hesitated.”

Miguel watched him quietly, brows drawing together. “Marco, you…” He trailed off as Marco curled in on himself, gripping his head.

“I never knew how he could do it. If he and Hector were so close…closer than us, even…then how could he just murder him?” he whispered. “How could he just…snuff the life out of someone he loved so much? What kind of monster would he have to be?” He sucked in a breath. “But it’s easy. When I was standing there, watching you die, something in my brain just…just switched off. You weren’t my friend anymore. You were just…just a body.” He sniffed hard, quickly swiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “And I didn’t care at all.”

Miguel stayed quiet for a long moment, thinking. He wanted, of course, to say that this was pretend and of course Marco wouldn’t actually murder him. But, well, that wasn’t what his friend needed to hear. He set a hand on Marco’s back.

“You’re not like him,” he said firmly. “I know this whole film’s been hard, but you’re not anything like de la Cruz. I mean, you’re actually thinking about this! You’re worried! He wouldn’t do that.” When Marco didn’t uncurl, he rubbed his back with a sigh. “I know. It’s hard.”

Marco let out a quick, shaky breath. “I hate this movie. I hate everything about this. I hate looking into the mirror and seeing him.”

“I know.”

“I’ve spent every moment since I was eighteen trying to get away from him.”

“I know.”

Marco wiped his eyes again. “Don’t suppose you get that,” he said, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Must be great to be Hector Rivera.”

Miguel grimaced. “Not…really, no.” At Marco’s disbelieving look, he shrugged. “I mean, I’m not having as hard a time as you, but…Papa Hector really did mess up.” He absently picked up one of the papers from the floor. “I mean, he knew it by the time I met him, but…trying to act like him before that…it hurts a lot. He didn’t even know how much he was hurting Mama Imelda and Mama Coco. But the excuses and the reasons he comes up with, they’re the same things I would have said in that situation.” He shook his head with a little laugh. “Kinda shows how I might’ve ended up if I hadn’t, y’know, gotten cursed.” He looked at the ground for a long moment, then looked up at Marco seriously. “But neither of us are our ancestors. We can be better than them.”

Marco stared at Miguel, then gave his eyes one last swipe. “I mean, we’re already better off,” he croaked out with a shrug. “You’re alive and I’m not a murderer.”

“See? We’re already doing great!” That got a weak smile out of Marco, and Miguel squeezed his shoulder. “We knew this would be hard going in. But we have to finish. Both our great-great-grandfathers need to be shown the way they actually were, and we’re the best ones to do it.” He pressed his lips together. “But…not tonight.”

Marco shook his head. “Definitely not tonight.”

They fell silent for a moment, each catching a breath after the strain of the day. Then Miguel gave Marco’s shoulder a squeeze as he grinned.

“Yelp says the heladeria down the street is really good.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “This isn’t camp, Miguel. Ice cream doesn’t solve everything.”

“It does help, though.”

Marco made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes again, which definitely meant that he wanted to go. “You’re gonna drag me along regardless.”

“Por supuesto.”

“Uuuuuuugggh, fine.” Marco got to his feet, shaking his head. “Just let me get out of this damn charro suit.”

Miguel grinned as he stood up. “I’ll meet you outside. Though if you take too long getting ready, you’re the one paying for it.”

“Oye! That’s not fair, I had a breakdown! You know how long it takes to get ready after one of those?”

“Sorry, Marco!” he chirped as he stepped out of the trailer, shutting the door as a string of colorful names came after him.

As he waited outside, he leaned back against the trailer and looked up at the darkening sky. It was hard, being their great-great-grandfathers at their absolute worst. Lord knew he was dreading filming the goodbye scene with Coco. But they were not their grandfathers. They were both their own men, affected by the mistakes of the past and, despite everything, better for it. He’d come to terms with that a while ago, and he had a feeling that, soon enough, Marco would realize that, too.

#biopic au #I just wanted to write out this whole scene from my overview honestly #marco veracruz #miguel rivera

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