01x09 - Renaissance

[bunniefuu]

Previously on
I Love You, and it Hurts...

They fooled me, Ciro.

They got the money and took off.

-Where are you taking that?
-Migue's at the hospital. We need money.

They're not all yours, you know?

Don't mess with me.

A few years ago,
Juan Gris pleaded guilty

for a heist his dad was involved in.

The bar heist was a terrible idea.

You know that you'll go to jail
if they catch you.

Iván told me and Beni
to take his clothes off.

He wanted you to see his anklet.

I love you the way you are.

They're yours.

So is the wall in the factory.

Take care of your past.

Take care of who you are.

We have to talk.

I have nothing to talk to you about.

I never believed
Lucía died giving birth.

I need you to tell me the truth.

Who's Juan Gris?

Migue!

How's your leg doing?

Better?

That's great.

I lost my father
when I was seven years old.

How old are you?

I'm eight.

When you your daddy died,
were you angry about it?

Yeah.

I was very angry at first.

And now that you're all grown up?

You're going to be okay. Come on.

Not here.

Please be patient.

I need more time.

I'm afraid to love you.

And then let it show.

Don't give up on me, I beg you.

I'm not giving up.

But look where we are.

We have to be free
while we're still alive.

I am however dying for you.

With all due respect to the situation.

One can't be free
without knowing the truth.

When an artist loses their inspiration,

it's like dying.

Juan.

Your father...

I'm very sorry.

An artist can't paint
what they don't feel.

I LOVE YOU, AND IT HURTS

Can you miss someone
you hardly remember?

I don't know.

But I think you can.

Do you remember your dad?

Just a little.

Sometimes when I'm in the boxing ring.

I imagine I'm talking to him.

And he tells me what to do.

-I know it's stupid, but...
-It's not stupid at all.

You?

What do you remember of your mom?

Very little.

I remember being on the beach with her.

Her dresses.

Her hands covered in paint.

It's like the hurricane
took not only her body...

But all of my memories with it.

I'm sure this mural's been painted
by the artist who painted my room.

What was your mother's name?

Luz Martínez.

And is this all you know of her work?

No.

I have some drawings.

Not sure how she could paint
this mural and a rich person's house.

My dad left without filling me in
on a lot of things.

Don't worry.

Sorry, I'm not in the mood.

I have to go check on Migue.
I can't leave him alone.

Okay then.

How are you?

Are you sad?

Are you angry?

I'm not angry anymore.

But I don't get why he had to die.

There are many things
we'll never understand.

You have to let go.

I don't want you to let me go.

That won't happen.

I promise we'll be together.

You and I against the world.

Okay?

When we got to Iván's house,
it was already there.

He told us this room was for you.

That is was a girl's bedroom.

I'm sure it's the same strokes.

Only this is something else.

It's more fragile.

But the factory's mural
is strong, direct.

It portrays a social struggle.

You've always been smarter than me.

No, I haven't, Marcos.

It's okay.

Not a big deal.

You liked books better
since you were little.

I remember you would sit
on Iván's lap

and spend the whole afternoon reading.

I remember perfectly.

I also remember you got mad
and put lizards in my bed.

But I put them back in the garden.

I would've never done it, I swear.

I'm really mad at Sara.

But I didn't know what to do.

I couldn't let them
cross the border alone.

Yeah.

I read your letter.

-If you want me to beat it...
-You guys are really going through it.

What Sara did is what anyone
would do for their family.

But it didn't help anything!

We have no money, we have no home.

Use the factory, then.

Thanks.

That's it, my man.

Need to check on Migue.

Okay.

Who bought those drawings from Sara?

It was Iván Robles.

THESE ARE THE DRAWINGS

JUAN GRIS SENT YOU 4 PHOTOS

Look, Migue.
Our neighbors brought us a lot of food.

How about we eat some empanadas?

Mole?

Chilpachole?

No, no. I'm not hungry, thanks.

What about some pancakes?

I dreamed about our dad.

And was it a good dream?

Don't know.

-Come on, how many do you want?
-Two.

Okay.

I brought you what I said I would.

That's great.

Okay.

CELL PHONE

Leave the painting
in the cellar, carefully.

Mom! Have you seen my dad?

He won't answer the phone.

And he's not back home.

No, baby, he got home late yesterday
and left early in the morning.

-He must be busy.
-And what's this painting doing here?

Your dad wants to exhibit it.

It's by the same painter
who did my bedroom, right?

Yeah.

Where's its technical data sheet?

-I don't have it yet, I've just...
-Give me a name.

Just a name.

-What's going on with you?
-That's right, Mom.

What's going on?

Why did she paint my room?
Why is her painting on my ceiling?

Who is she?

Mom, answer me!

I'm sick of you standing there
like some speechless fool!

Lucía Campos.

-Are you sure?
-I am.

That painting has been under
our noses this entire time.

It was painted by Lucía Campos.

That's enough Lola,
I've got a lot of things to do.

Why are you so cold, Mom?

Migue, my love,
I wish you weren't this sad.

-I miss you.
-I miss you even more, Mommy.

Why don't you come back?

I can't, I told you.

I swear as soon as I get
my green card, I'll get you.

Can I go to the United States too?

No, Migue.

You'd have to cross
the border, it's risky.

You could come with me.

Come, Juan Gris.

I can help you once you're here.

I can get you a job.

I can borrow some money

and send it for you
to cross the border.

Thanks, Ana.

But I'm not crossing the border
with an eight-year-old boy.

You're right. I'm getting carried away.

Thanks for taking care of my boy.

He's my brother.

I'll leave you guys. Take care, Ana.

Bye for now.

Well then...
Do you want to see the snow?

My dad's got a painting

just like one of the sketches
you sent me.

But it's not by Luz Martínez,
it's by Lucía Campos.

No, no, that's not possible.

My father told me
those were my mother's drawings.

Like the mural.

You say your mom vanished
in the hurricane, right?

And everything else with her.

We can search the files
of hurricane victims.

It won't be easy,
it was a long time ago, but...

Maybe I can look
for some classified data

using Sergeant Lucero's badge number.

We'll find out the truth.

-There are limits to everything, Cami.
-No, Mom.

-Yes, sweetheart.
-Mom...

-Mom, please, no!
-No, no, no.

But, Mom,
what in the world are you doing?

That's what, look!

I'll take you to the mall.

Don't make me return my stuff.

It's not your stuff.

You didn't pay for it with your money.

It's okay to enjoy some things,
but going overboard is something else.

No.

Cami, you're not a little girl anymore.

So I need you to stop
behaving like a spoiled child.

Mom... I'm not some spoiled little girl.

Okay. Perfect.

I'll show you you're wrong about me.

I'll show you I'm responsible and stuff,

and I can buy what I want
without your credit cards.

-Yeah?
-So you'll get yourself a job?

That's what I'll do.

Get a job and my own place,

because from now on
you don't tell me what to do.

Cami.

Your things.

If they bother you so much,
return them yourselves.

From now on, we each mind
our own business. No?

What's up!

What's up, buddy?

So, what's up?

I brought you flowers.

-I'm sorry, bro...
-What the hell are you doing here?

You can't waltz into my house like this.

Put them in water.

Your dad still owes me
some dough, remember?

Follow me...

Remember the goods
they took from your old man?

The same we both got
by the sweat of our own brows?

Remember when you dialed up
the cops, dumbass?

No.

I've got short memory.

Bullshit, you do.

Come on.

But listen.

Here's the thing...

Since you're his son...

Well, you used to be...

You still have to pay me.

If I had the dough, I'd give it to you,
so I wouldn't have to see you again.

But even if I wanted to...

There's always a second option.

You can go back to working with me.

-You pay me back with work.
-I'll never do that again, you know it.

There's a third option...

And that is...

You lend me your place,
and we use it as a storage.

You keep my junk, my boxes,
and all my stuff.

I won't tell
the Child Protective Service

you're stocking stolen goods.

Why don't you go f*ck yourself?

Okay. I'll make it easy for you.

You can sell the house.

To your father in-law.
He's buying the whole neighborhood.

You pay me half of what you get,

-and we're even.
-Get out of here.

Or I'll beat the hell out of you.

So scary.

Migue!

How are you doing,
little buddy? Are you okay?

Listen, wouldn't you love it
if I moved here to live with you?

It'd be cool, right?

You know I've always loved Migue.

And...

I'd love to be his big bro.

You know, someday.

Take care, man.

I'm sorry for your loss.

You told them they can't rule you?

And now it appears I'm homeless.

You know you can go back
to your home at any time, right?

Just take it easy with the shopping.

Your parents are right.

No, but I don't want to go back!

Not like that.

I have to show them
I'm not some spoiled girl.

But you are.

Come on.

That doesn't make you
any less pretty.

No, of course not.

Okay.

It's a challenge.

I'll show them I can both work
and live by myself.

You really mean it, no?

What do you think of working with me?

As long as it's not heavy work, please.

I have a plan.

-Where are you taking me?
-It's an old factory.

Okay.

-But what are these?
-Just follow me. Come on.

Come.

Well, it's super cool.

It's not cool, it's a garbage dump.

Come on, I'll help you.

Or not.

You do know that I'm a dancer?

Shall we go?

Sure thing.

-This is cool.
-Come on.

Come on.

The whole team is here.

-So we're really doing that?
-Yeah, obviously!

My grandfather told me
all this stuff has been abandoned.

-It'd be a waste for it to rot.
-Yeah.

It's an act of righteousness.

They should be put to good use.

Revolution has to start somewhere.

Revolution?

-Right?
-Let's do it!

-Let's go.
-You two, work on this side here.

-Okay.
-Can I help?

Good job!

He just did everything wrong.

He made so many mistakes!

I can't speak ill of him
because he's my dad and he's gone.

But he left a mess!

That as*h*le, Casco, is threatening me.

Migue's mom is talking
all kinds of nonsense.

Seriously, I don't know
what to do anymore.

Relax, dude.

Migue can stay here
for as long as you want.

So just chill out.

I'll get his guardianship as soon
as I get rid of this damn anklet.

I'm 18 already, I'm his big bro.

They have to give it to me.

Juan Gris.

I have something to tell you.

Luz Martínez.

Martínez.

Check it out.

-Let's check this website.
-All right.

-This one here.
-There.

-Look it up.
-It's too many people.

Bike-Rocket Bike-Taxi Service.

-That's not bad.
-No.

Too many missing people.

Yeah. According to the plate,
a hundred and twenty.

-Wagon-taxi...
-It could be better.

-But it sounds nice.
-It sounds nice.

Yeah, super nice, man!

And if we set a filter, it's...

Taxis Everywhere.

That one's terrible, Nacho!

The worst name so far.

Then help me out!

The name has to convey
the unique experience

of a ride on one of these.

According to Juan Gris's age...

She could only be
among these fourteen.

-Ready.
-Bike-trip.

-I like it!
-So that's it.

And this is Luz Martínez.

-You found her?
-Yeah.

Lola.

Guess I haven't been
to a place like this since...

What are you doing here?

Believe it or not,
I haven't always been this cold.

I'm not a trophy wife
without a voice either,

but I guess there are things
that are not for me to say.

What are you talking about?

About Lucía Campos.

Iván's ex-wife.

Luz told me before the hurricane.

She told me she had fallen for Roberto.

Because of the way
he took care of you,

the kind of love he had for you,

even though you weren't his son.

I never told you

because she had made me promise

not to tell anything about this secret.

But if you're planning on pursuing
legal action for Migue,

you need to know all this.

Migue's my brother.

Yes, but not by blood.

And they can use that against you.

So then who's my father?

Luz never told me that.

I'm sorry, I really don't know.

This should've always been yours.

It's the only thing I have
from your mother.

And now it's yours to keep.

No.

-Is this...
-The day she painted the mural.

But it wasn't her.

The drawings are from another painter.

Someone named Lucía Campos.

-Roberto lied about it...
-No.

The mural was painted by your mother.

I was there. And so were you.

Juan Gris!

Juan!

A sky without a moon.

Without a sun.

Not to see you.

A long path, and in the end...

I want to see you.

To feel I look for you
and you're not there.

To feel you're gone.

To look for you in my world.

And not see you.

It was all so intense.

I guess I've never felt so alive.

What?

You're a handsome boy.

Who spent their whole life
living inside of a bubble.

That's not true.

Just look at your secret hideout there.

I've sent you a thousand messages.

The bar's not open yet.

Why you won't answer me?

Because I...

I don't know if I want to see you.

I won't be able to call you
Monday, Tuesday

March or December

I wish I could meet you
Without seeing you

I wish I could meet you
Without seeing you

There are no falls, no springtimes

No moons, planets, there are no stars

There's only dark nights

The world's become monochromatic

My head switched to authomatic

The beauty of things makes no sense

I see no difference
Between rocks and roses

And the few other things I still have

Make me cry

I want to bury them by your side

Along with all the memories
And not see you anymore

You all right?

Have patience with me.

All the patience in the world.

It was incredible.

To feel I look for you
And you're not there

To feel you're gone
I've lost you forever

To look for you in my world
And not see you

A sky without a moon, without a sun

Not to see you

A long path, and in the end

I want to see you

To feel I look for you
And you're not there

To feel you're gone
I've lost you forever

LABORATORY - RESULTS

To look for you in my world
And not see you

Yes, Lucía Campos
had been married to Iván.

There are certain land deeds
in her name as well.

Look, check these notes.

Supposedly they were bought
to benefit of the colonies.

-This can't be.
-But this never happened.

It's quite the opposite,
there are only abandoned hospitals,

-and unfinished schools.
-But why is that?

There are some companies
that buy cheaper

and have agreements already signed
with other companies.

They charge, they bill,

but they don't build, on the contrary.

-They destroy.
-Money laundering?

That's what Iván is doing
with El Dorado.

But I don't get why these are
in the name of Lucía Campos.

A borrowed name?

SEE YOU AT THE FACTORY

I need you to help me
investigate her death.

I have to meet Juan Gris. Thanks, Osías!

COME TO THE FACTORY

What are you doing here?

I'm not finished yet, okay?

I rode my bike all day long.

Yeah, you did it.

Yeah, but I'm sweaty, I look horrible.

Never.

Nacho.

I really don't like your new friends.

I also don't like your new plans.

You've changed a lot.

I don't know, I get this feeling...

You changed too much, son.

Well,

we wanted to have sex.

There was this sexual tension,
we satisfied our desires, and that's it.

Say what?

I don't get you.

There's nothing to understand.

Move on with your life.

And I'll move on with mine.

So he told you this Lucía Campos person
died giving birth?

Yeah, giving birth to a girl
who didn't survive either.

That's what my mom told me.

And that's why Iván won't talk about it.

It's too painful for him.

-Do you buy it?
-Osías and I found proof of marriage.

And some other things.

CELL PHONE

Hello.

What?

Are you sure, Osías?

There's no death certificate
for Lucía Campos or her baby.

They just simply vanished.

The mural was painted by my mom.

-Juan, Lucía Campos is...
-This picture proves it.

It's Luz Martínez.

-And this is me.
-Let me see.

Tell him.

Juan.

Is this your mother?

Well yeah.

Her hands, her hair.

I think I remember her a little.

I think Luz Martínez
and Lucía Campos are the same woman.

-Hello.
-Hi, this is Iván.

Would you mind meeting me
at the gallery? Thanks.

Let's go.

Wait up.

I think I need to do this alone.

Our portraits defy death.

In paintings, we look eternal.

This tradition comes
from the Renaissance.

In each work,

we enhance our virtues
while we hide our flaws.

You're used to getting
everything you want, right?

You don't care if what you take
from people is all they have.

You're not the only one
portrayed in these drawings.

And you're not the only one
in their history.

This painting...

Your mother painted it...

While she was pregnant with you.

We were expecting a little girl...

But we had you.

What are you saying, Iván?

I just found out...

That you're my son.

Listen, Juan Gris...

I can't make up

for all the years
I was not there for you as a father.

But I can be present from now on.

I can help you.

What do you need?

-You want to do something as my father?
-Yes.

-Really?
-Yes.

Leave the neighborhood alone.

Take away your machines.

Leave people their homes.

Leave my factory.

I can't.

In life, it's very different.

We are only reborn when our virtues
and flaws cease to conceal themselves.

And we face them head-on.