Live To Serve, Serve To Live

Chapter 2: Job Hunt

"Love triangles and amnesiac sex aren't age-appropriate topics, Tio," Camilo said through gritted teeth, which was as calm as he could manage, having spent the last hour talking down parents whose kids were either crying or repeating things they shouldn't know after witnessing a rat telenovela.

"Maybe animals aren't your thing," Luisa chuckled nervously, helping Bruno reach the kitchen for some of his hermana's arepas to heal the broken bones. How was he supposed to know donkeys kicked when startled?

"Stay out of my kitchen," Julieta ordered flatly. She covered her mouth to cough out more smoke, then slammed the door in his face. Honestly, Bruno thought, fair.

"Animals definitely aren't your thing," Antonio told him matter-of-factly as they rounded up the last of the frogs.

On and on and on it went. Everything he tried, he messed up somehow. Well, no, that wasn't true. He actually was pretty good at a few things. Usually menial tasks that still let him take a second to knock or throw salt when he needed to. But even in those things, he kept running into the same problem.

People wanted visions. They would hint at it, beg for one, demand, ask, bribe, threaten (Dolores had sicced Isabela and Pepa on that one), and otherwise attempt to coerce him into giving them a vision.

Bruno would actually love to give them a vision. His Gift was, well, a gift. He had liked using it, once upon a time, and he remembered the feeling well. But he knew better. His powers rarely told him things that could be changed very easily, more often things that would just happen. He would not be the cause of the good so he would get no praise, and though he wouldn't be the cause of the bad either he would still be blamed for causing it through a curse or something.

Your fate is sealed when your prophecy is read.

But what use was a Madrigal who wouldn't use their Gift?

Alma lead them all wisely and mostly justly (especially nowadays). Felix kept Pepa as stable as possible, which was a boon to everyone. Mirabel worked hard and kept the family together while also helping in the village, and always with a smile. And Agustin was apparently just impossible to hate.

They were different. They had no Gifts, for one reason or another, but they still did their best.

Bruno had a Gift he wouldn't use, so he was lazy.

Bruno's Gift 'cursed' people, so he was dangerous.

Bruno didn't have many helpful skills, so he was useless.

Bruno was weird and had a hard time socializing and (was traumatized from being treated as a monster since he was a child and spending a decade living off scraps in the walls while watching his household literally break apart — but let's just forget about that, right?) his best friends were rats, so he was hard to interact with.

He was everything a Madrigal should not be.

He leaned against a stall in the market, sighing after another long day in a string of long days looking for a way to serve. He was fairly certain he'd just made the villagers' feelings towards him worse, but he was too scared to double check with his visions.

"Well, Ratito," he muttered to his favorite rat, who he held close to his chest as he gently petted his head, "looks like we'll have to buy cabbage after all."

Buy cabbage, he'd decided, was his secret code for 'leave Encanto'. Over the years, he'd occasionally write different codes out on his floor in sand, then show it to his rats so he could talk to them without Dolores understanding. He loved his sobrina, very much so, but a guy needed some privacy in his life. He doubted he was the only one in Encanto that did things like this. Dolores would forgive him if she found out. He hoped.

If she didn't, well... He supposed she had a right not to. He was using this as a way of leaving forever, after all, which would hurt her and the rest of his family. He didn't want to do that, but it was beginning to look more and more like the lesser of two evils.

He was running out of ways to make the villagers like him short of personally waiting on them hand and foot. Which he couldn't do, for a variety of reasons.

The first was one of his main issues with quite a lot of his plans; Dolores would hear and most likely disapprove.

The second was that it might make the villagers expect more from the rest of the family, and they already worked so hard.

The third was that, energetic as he was, he wasn't a young man anymore. There was only so much he could do before his joints started acting up and he got tired or even downright confused.

There was a fourth reason, one that wouldn't have stopped him in the slightest if the other three weren't there, but he was still pleasantly surprised to find it existed; he had some sense of dignity and self respect.

Yes, he lived in a wall with rats for ten years, and sometimes he put a bucket on his head and called himself Jorge. But he was still a human being and a Madrigal (a proud family no matter how gleefully they served) and there was only so low he could accept being brought. Unless it was to protect his family, then he'd go as low as he had to.

But it wasn't an option anyways for the very good reasons he listed, so... Yeah.

"We're doomed, Ratito," he lamented, eyes tearing up. He wouldn't cry, though, not in front of the villagers. He'd learnt that lesson ages ago. Besides, Dolores would hear and then she'd tell Pepa that something had made him cry and then Pepa would literally storm the town and then... He shuddered at the memory of his visions. With the hand not holding Ratito, he rapid-fire hit the wood of the stall behind him, then his own head. "Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock, knock on wood."

Ratito, who was too used to the knocking to be startled, and did not understand most words but did understand that the human he liked best was upset, chittered in sympathy and rubbed his head against Bruno's chest. Bruno patted him, smiling. The expression was shaky but real.

"You always know just how to cheer me up, Ratito. You're such a good friend," Bruno praised, petting the furry creature. Bruno considered praise very important, and gave it to his rats often. He gave it to his family too, but that usually came off a bit more awkward.

"So it's true, you do talk to rats," a voice chuckled. Bruno startled, gently but quickly shoving Ratito inside the safety of his ruana, before taking in the speaker. She had light hair like straw, pulled into a ponytail on the side of her head, and wore the clothes of a merchant. She grinned at him, one hand resting on her hip. "And here I thought it was just one of those nasty rumors. I wonder what else they say about you is true?"

"N-not much," Bruno muttered quietly. He was surprised to not recognize the woman, though he supposed some people could've moved in and out in the last decade, but was unsurprised that she knew of him. Everyone did. He straightened, trying and failing to put on a friendly grin, and cleared his throat. Trying to sound eager and helpful, he asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

The woman hummed. "Well, maybe. They say you're looking for work that doesn't involve your magic. That true?"

"Uh, yes, though people seem to have a hard time accepting that. I've been asked for like twenty visions today!" He chuckled nervously, mentally slapping himself. Complaining about villagers did not help his reputation.