@remember-miguel​

So, Imelda hated him. 

He should’ve expected that. As far as she knew, he had been gone a really long time. And he had abandoned her! She had every right to hate him. Héctor might have been able to leave her alone, had that really been the case. And she might have forgiven him, or at least understood, had he owned up to the fact that he was... y’know. Dead. But he hadn’t. So she didn’t. 

And though it was probably the wrong move, Héctor thought a gift couldn’t hurt, right?

And whether or not the Moon Market would have anything, well, that was up for debate, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. He could hit up every shop in Swynlake, if he had to. Besides, he should maybe get something for Sally, too, for letting him stay at her place. 

One issue: there was music playing outside of the Market, loud enough that Héctor was in what he liked to refer to as Stage 3. Kinda there, kinda not — in this case, there enough not to be able to just walk through the wall and head straight in, but apparently, not enough to trigger the automatic door.

He’d been jumping in front of it for at least ten minutes now, if not fifteen. He’d tried stepping back, stepping forward, waving his arms around. Nothing. “¡Por el amor de Dios!” He cried, banging his hand against the door. It made no noise, it just sort of his hurt his palm. “Come on, let me in!”