I never thought that the affection I felt for that boy I was going to live with would fade so quickly.
He sat there with his legs crossed, watching me in silence, in what was supposed to be my office, waiting for an explanation I didn't even know how to give… or if I even had to give one. His gaze wasn't aggressive, but it was firm—the kind that doesn't look away until it gets an answer.
The truth was… there wasn't a clear reason why I hadn't told him.
I simply didn't feel the need to.
He was upset because I had gone out a few days ago without him and without telling him, finding out through a message that came to my phone and that he saw by accident… or so it seemed. For me, it had been a way to relax, to reconnect with the world I came from… and the one I still, deep down, wanted to return to.
Maybe the idea of those two worlds—my normal life and everything the underworld implied—touching each other made me more uncomfortable than I wanted to admit. Just thinking about it tightened my chest. As if, deep down, I had never wanted those lives to mix at all.
Maybe that's why I never told Iztli.
"I didn't think about it that much," I said at last, forcing indifference to downplay his complaint. "This is this… and that is that."
Iztli frowned slightly.
"Then why did I have to hear it from him?" he asked, gesturing toward Mictlantecuhtli's office.
I sighed. Maybe it hadn't been my phone… maybe Mictlantecuhtli had called him while they were getting me ready for the interview.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think it was relevant," I replied. "Next time I'll tell you where I'm going."
I smiled, but inside I felt irritated. I appreciated that he cared about me, yes… but I had only known him for four days. I didn't feel like we had the kind of relationship where I had to report my every move.
"You'll take me with you next time," he said with complete certainty. "There's no negotiation."
"No," I replied immediately. "I also need my space."
I crossed my arms firmly, marking distance.
"Yes, you will."
"No, I won't."
"Yes, you will," he insisted, leaning back in his seat, shifting into a more challenging posture as he stared directly at me. His human pupils narrowed, turning feline.
"Or what?" I raised my voice without meaning to, refusing to back down. "Are you going to force me?"
Silence fell instantly.
The tension became uncomfortable—thick, almost tangible. Even so, I wasn't about to give in. I didn't want my lives to mix. Not yet.
Seeing that I wasn't going to budge, Iztli sighed. His form shifted—first into a jaguar, then a brief flash of light… and finally, only the keychain remained on the table where he had been all this time.
My chest ached.
I didn't want to hurt him.
I didn't want it to end like that… but I truly needed my space.
Just as I was about to apologize, the three makeup artists walked in. They were the same as before, but this time they were accompanied by a short woman with a stern expression, holding a tablet.
"Izel, right?" she asked without even looking at me, pointing with a pencil.
"Yes."
"Perfect. I'll give you the information about your interviewee."
She read without emotion:
Name: ErnestoAge at death: 38Status: Transition
Description:Ernesto died at 38 from a stray bullet during a confrontation between drug traffickers and residents of his town.
Personality:Nervous, exhausted, indecisive. Strong attachment to his family, especially his mother.
That was all.
I read the information again and again, not fully understanding why he had been chosen. I didn't know if I was supposed to talk about the shooting, his life… or what exactly.
"That's it?" I asked. "Any more details?"
The woman looked up for the first time. She scanned me from head to toe, as if evaluating something that didn't exist in the file.
"Yes. That's all you need to know," she said.
And she left, as dryly as she had arrived.
I stayed silent for a few seconds before turning to the girls getting me ready.
"Do you know who she is?"
"Yes," one of them said—the one with short hair who had been helping me these past few days. "That's Cihuacóatl. General manager of all departments when the boss isn't around. She handles almost everything."
"Don't mind her," another said while applying my makeup. "She's always in a bad mood."
"It's not that," the third added while checking my outfit. "She has a strong character. I respect her. Besides… it wouldn't be nice if competition showed up."
"Competition?" I widened my eyes, surprised.
"You know," she continued. "Mictlantecuhtli has been paying you a lot of attention lately. There was a vacancy… and now a stranger shows up taking space."
"A vacancy?" I tried to stand, but the girl doing my hair stopped me. "Did Mictlantecuhtli have a partner?"
"It's a long story," the makeup artist said, closing the topic. "But it has nothing to do with you. You're ready."
I was wearing soft white pants that fell naturally over my hips, accentuating just enough without being provocative. The dark green blouse contrasted with my skin and highlighted my figure more than I had noticed at first.
My straightened hair fell over my shoulders, giving me a more adult, more confident look… different from the girl who used to run from shift to shift at a café.
The clothes were loose, yes… but they hid nothing. On the contrary, they suggested.
My waist shifted when I moved, my chest rose with every deep breath, and my legs—firm, real—held me up as if, for the first time, my body also understood that I was no longer just surviving.
I felt aware of myself.
Not uncomfortable.Present.
"You look really beautiful," one of the girls said with a sincere smile.
And for the first time in a long time… I believed it.
I prepared myself to enter the interview room.
I entered the interview room again.
The set was similar to the previous one, but modified. It no longer looked like an interrogation room. Now there were two armchairs and a low table… like those American late-night shows.
He was sitting in one of the chairs.
A slightly stocky man, wearing a plaid shirt and khaki pants. He wasn't particularly attractive, but his shirt was full of bullet holes, now turned into dark stains. His body was more translucent than the workers'.
And his gaze… was tired.
"We start in five…" shouted the same deep voice from the previous programs.
I greeted him with an automatic smile and took my seat, trying to review the guest's information while searching for something interesting to say. Then the on-air beep sounded.
"Good evening to everyone.Welcome once again to Frequencies of the Underworld.A big round of applause!"
A background of applause filled the studio, as if there were a live audience.
"Izel," the voice said, "who have you brought us today?"
I took a deep breath and prepared to begin.
"Today I brought a great guest who met a tragic end while trying to protect his home. But instead of me speaking for him… why don't we let him introduce himself?"
The man in front of me raised his hand.
"Hi everyone, my name's Ernesto… or, if you want a nickname, you can call me El Queso."
He smiled slightly. He looked tired.
"El Queso?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Because I'm full of holes," he said. "Hahaha."
He laughed at his own joke.
It was bad.Awkward.But the comments loved it.
"HAHA the holey one""They can call him the strainer too""I thought he'd be boring, but he's funny""How do you think he died? We want details""x2"
"Very funny, Ernesto…"
"El Queso?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Because I'm full of holes," he said. "Hahaha."
He laughed at his own joke.
It was bad.Awkward.But somehow… it worked.
The comments exploded:
"HAHA the holey one""They can call him the strainer too""I thought he'd be boring, but he's actually funny""How do you think he died? We want details""x2"
"Very funny, Ernesto…"
"El Queso," he corrected calmly.
"Okay… El Queso," I continued, adjusting myself in my seat, trying to regain control. "Would you like to tell us a bit about your life?"
Ernesto exhaled slowly.
"My life… honestly, there's not much to tell.Hardware store. From my twenties until I died.I worked and took care of my mother. Never married. Never had kids."
He paused.
"My life was… mediocre. I didn't accomplish anything truly important."
He shrugged, as if he had already made peace with it.
"So I'd rather talk about my death. Or… the day I died."
Something in his tone made me lean forward slightly.
"Alright," I said. "Tell me about that day."
He smiled.
"It was the best moment of my life."
I blinked.
"The best?"
"Yes," he replied with unsettling calm. "That day I had a revelation."
"A revelation?"
"Do you know the story of Sisyphus?"
"The one who pushes a rock to the top… only to watch it fall again and again."
"Exactly," he nodded. "That was my life."
His voice softened, becoming more intimate.
"My father abandoned my mother and me when I was eight. Since then, I felt like I had to help. I didn't want to be a burden.I always thought everything was my fault. That taking care of me was expensive. That I was in the way."
He looked down.
"So I lived without making decisions. Every time I tried something… I pushed the rock. And when it was time to choose… I let it fall again."
A dry laugh escaped him.
"I let go of a woman who loved me for almost three years… waiting for an answer I never gave.I ended up working at my uncle's hardware store, even though I didn't like it.I lived with my family almost until I was forty… because I was afraid of being selfish."
The studio fell silent.
"So then…" I asked softly, "why was that day so important?"
Ernesto lifted his gaze.
"Because I got tired."
He paused.
"That day, my uncle asked me to work on my day off… and for the first time, I said no."
I frowned.
"That's what made it special?"
"That's what I thought too," he said with a faint smile. "I expected him to get mad. To yell. To call me ungrateful."
He leaned forward slightly.
"But he just looked at me… and left."
Silence.
"And then," he continued, "I realized something."
He raised his hands, as if holding something invisible.
"Nothing happened."
The chat went completely still.
"Nothing," he repeated. "No yelling. No consequences. No punishment."
He smiled.
"I had lived my whole life afraid… of things that never even happened."
Something tightened in my chest.
"I always thought that if I said 'no,' everything would fall apart," he continued. "But nothing happened."
He looked straight at me.
"And that day… I felt free."
I swallowed.
"Free… just for going out?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "And that's what makes it incredible."
He leaned back in his chair.
"I bought myself a coffee… then changed my mind and ordered something else.No one got upset. No one broke. No one exploded."
A small laugh slipped out.
"Nothing even happened when they charged me wrong."
"Nothing…" I murmured.
"Exactly. Absolutely nothing."
The silence in the studio grew heavier… deeper.
"Living in fear is like walking on glass," he said at last. "You think everything will hurt… that every step will break something."
He paused.
"But most of the time… nothing happens."
His voice lowered.
"And nothing happening… is a blessing."
I shifted slightly in my seat.
"But not all decisions end like that," I said. "Sometimes there are consequences."
"Of course," he nodded. "But they're almost never as terrible as we imagine."
He sighed.
"That same day, I called the woman I let go. I hadn't spoken to her in years."
He fell silent for a moment.
"I was so nervous… I felt like my heart stopped every time the phone rang."
"And what happened?" I asked.
"She answered."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"She said she had been thinking about me. We talked… and agreed to meet."
Something warm stirred in my chest.
"So you got another chance?"
"No," he replied immediately. "She's already engaged."
"Oh…"
"It's okay," he said calmly. "It hurt… but not the way I thought it would."
He looked at me.
"Just knowing I could do it… was enough."
He shrugged lightly.
"I don't even know if I was in love with her… or with the memory."
A soft laugh escaped him.
"You know… that thing they say on TV."
"That you fall in love with what used to be… not the person," I finished.
He nodded.
Silence returned.
"So…" I asked, "what's the point of all this?"
Ernesto looked straight at me.
And for the first time… his expression was completely serious.
"That nothing happened."
He paused.
"And still… I lived."
Something shifted inside me.
I took a deep breath.
"If you could do whatever you wanted… without thinking about the consequences… what would you do?"
My voice came out softer than I expected.
And in that moment…
everything blurred together.
School.Magic.Iztli.The fear of choosing.
Maybe…
maybe…
nothing would happen.