It's a fate worse than being strangers, or simply being 'exes.' Their estrangement runs deep, made terrible by Amelia's one track mind and Alfie's pride ensuring it stays that way. What's left is something odd, best avoided. Except New York isn't as big as anyone pretends it to be, and Lottie runs the Reserve like a tight ship. Despite herself, she can't help the light snort; "Did you get a degree in revisionist history since I last saw you?" It comes out of her too quick. That whip-fast wit that was once an instrument of flirtation, now feels like a defense mechanism.

Fighting was how they flirted. Bickering was how she and Alife formed closeness. Arguing was their way to express passion. This? Amelia doesn't know what this is.

if he could avoid amelia for the rest of his life he would , even if his gaze said something different. or the way his body seemed to instinctively turn towards her , all signs pointing towards the illusion of a reunion but his brain told him to stay away. she was nothing but trouble , even now -- her quip not totally falling on deaf ears. " no , love. i abandoned that the day you dumped me , remember. " he was no stranger to confrontation , she should have known that and accepted it once she decided to sit next to him.

"I--" The bartender's eyes furrow, offended and curious. He glances first at Alfie, then at Amelia, and she catches the question in his eyes. "It's fine." She answers the question in his eyes, lets the bartender exchange her glass for a fresh one. "And just an entree - whatever's easy. No allergies." Implicit in that, whatever the cook can whip up fast. It's not that she's afraid of Alfie. Rather, she's afraid of the ways he can crack her open, and let out the best and worst parts of her. When the bartender leaves, alongside the haughty woman beside Alfie who seems snubbed by the gestures, they are alone. As alone as they can be, in a busy restaurant.

"You know," she starts, finally acknowledging him, eyes still averted to her new glass. "I never liked it when you ordered for me." Memories of their messy fights outside of restaurants come back to vision. But so to did those impassioned kisses shortly after.

he hadn't fully kept up with amelia since joining the reserve , he'd been in and out of the country and avoiding her was third in his list -- a list that he intended to keep growing as his time in new york seemed to hone on the more permanent side. he had however noticed she had gotten everything she ever wanted career wise --- she should be fulfilled , right ?

the bartender immediately left to note her order and he couldn't help but want to crawl into whatever hole was closest. he had swore she didn't affect him and still continued not to affect him to this day but he couldn't help but feel , something , as he sat next to her. the closest they had been since she ended things and he left her there in what was supposed to be their apartment. his company left and now it was just them and suddenly the room felt quiet , his mind replaying their last interaction before her voice pulled him out.

"What if we just fucked right off to the Maldives right now?" They celebrate their old friend the only way Maddox knows how. With a bottle of very expensive scotch, shortly after he and Santiago wrap up their respective work days. Romeo's loss is hard felt by those in the mafia, especially by those who grew up with him as a friend. At this point, the waves of grief happen so constantly that Maddox is sure they will never get out from under it. "Hop on a private jet, charter a yacht, and just.. Leave all this behind?"

The downside of staying with your estranged sister? Instead of the comforts of Brooklyn, filled with everything from Amelia's favorite shawarma spot to the best bagels, she's forced to eat at places like this. Amazing culinary experiences, to be sure, but a price tag so outrageous it's sickening. Still, Amelia's starving. Another long, late night at the office trying to make sense of every tragedy. There's one spot left, right at the bar.

Of course, it's him. Archie takes up space in this fine dining restaurant like he owns it, grinning and breathing life to it. There's a jolt in her body, somewhere between residual affection and annoyance, as she stops. Deciding that no, she won't be the first to break the silence, Amelia slips into the bar seat beside Archie wordlessly. "Just a glass of house red, please." She nods at the bartender.

alfie had finally settled into new york rather nicely and now his task was to find the best places to eat. alfie had picked up some cooking skills from someone before but now the thought of using his kitchen for anything more than to get a beverage made him sick. so instead he tried to go to a new place every night , somehow he had made it in to a very popular spot , so he opted for a bar seat. he had sprung up conversation with the person next to him , even if he tried to avoid it his accent usually brought on questions and well --- who was he to say no to a free drink. the bartender even lingering in to hear the conversation , chiming in from time to time.

       tickled  with  a  flash  of  amusement,  she  offered  alfred  a  funny  look.  "well,  i'd  certainly  hope  they  are."  the  knife  tucked  under  a  cushion  wasn't  entirely  or  even  mostly  there  for  him.  since  digging  and  having  spent  the  last  two  years  doing  so,  the  brunette  had  become  a  little  paranoid.  sounds  outside  of  her  home  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  sometimes  even  in  broad  daylight,  felt  like  an  intruder.  this  pantheon  stuff  and  their  reach  was  creeping  her  out  as  well,  but  the  grief  of  losing  more  friends  was  what  kept  driving  her  forward.

"yeah,  been  there,  i  get  it.  for  me  it  was  nothing.  just  a  means  to  let  loose.  but  emily...  she  loved  proximity  to  power,  and  discernment  wasn't  really  a  tool  she  cared  to  sharpen."  at  his  question  fidan  pulled  her  phone  from  the  other  side  of  her  on  the  cushion  and  scrolled  through  it  for  a  moment.  when  she  offered  it  over  to  alfie  it  was  of  her  last  text  exchange  with  emily.  where  she  mentioned  going  to  the  marquee  again,  avoiding  some  guy  she  referred  to  as  'the  shady  one,  you  remember?',  and  something  about  someone's  wife.  it  all  looked  like  ramblings  in  a  way,  even  to  fidan  because  she  only  knew  of  these  things  through  vague  stories  she'd  received  with  emily  was  sober  a  day  or  two  later.  "she  seemed  normal  last  i  got  from  her."  a  gesture  to  the  phone.  "but  i  went  into  the  marquee  recently  and...  have  you  seen  the  type  of  people  that  rub  elbows  in  there?"

eyes looked around the pair , he wondered if there was more to the story , more she wasn't telling him but that would be entirely up to her whether or not she wanted to divulge the information to a stranger. he had no stakes , his livelihood didn't really depend on what he did on the side or even with the reserve. he was mainly there for his cousins , who didn't ask for his help but he could tell they might have needed it. " a regular old icarus , " he said grabbing the phone , nothing really sticking out to him that he could really use unless he grabbed the metadata from where the texts were sent. " remind me what the marquee is again ? " he wasn't too acquainted with new york as he should be but could she blame him ? " i would avoid the marquee if you are digging into it , people go missing all the time. " that could include her as well.

𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨’𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, francis had been inconsolable. romy had expected that much. romeo had been the closest thing francis had to a brother, what she hadn’t expected was how useless it would make her feel. in most social situations, romy already had trouble knowing what to say, or when to say it. grief made that worse. one would think a life steeped in tragedy might have taught her how to comfort someone through it, but it hadn’t. she didn’t know how she’d gotten through the bad things that had happened to her. she just had. kept breathing. kept moving. but that made shitty advice. so she did what she knew how to do best. she made herself useful. she shuffled into their bedroom with a glass of water in one hand and a takeout menu in the other, quiet as a ghost except for the drag of her socks against the floor. “drink,” she said, setting the water on the dresser within his reach. then she put the menu beside it. “then pick somethin’ you wanna eat, and i’ll go get it,” she said. “you can stay in bed all week if you want,” she added, crawling in beside him with careful, deliberate movements. “but you gotta eat and drink. rules.” romy settled close; not crowding him, just near enough that he could reach for her if he wanted to. “you wanna talk about it?”

francis hadn't reacted much other than simply blank. he had retreated to his bed and hadn't moved since he learned the news. romeo and francis always joked that they had been friends since prehistoric times , they met in the womb -- despite their age difference. nothing could've separated them , except this , except death. he never thought he would outlive him , francis and romeo both lived dangerous lives but he thought romeo was protected given his family but something had gone wrong and he could only imagine how his siblings and mother were feeling. he wouldn't bother them but he did hope they would allow him to say his final goodbyes , if they decided to invite him to the funeral. he always thought the saddest part about death was how life kept moving. he was gone but the world had to persist , the stock market had to open , city hall kept working but he --- he was no longer there. eyes looked up at romy , almost pleading for her to stay and he knew she would. he had forgotten to eat , to drink -- he'd forgotten how to be human in the midst of the pain he felt for a lost friend.

LOCATION: a practice room at Sprague Hall, Yale University

It had been quiet between them since Miami - unsurprising, considering something had clearly shifted. Lottie had been too wrapped up in new relatives, taking all the brand new information about her mother as a young woman before she had been born, before Omar Saab had found her. It was the night out with her cousins and Santiago that had altered things between them though. In a way that she couldn't have expected; to the point where she'd just started processing on their flight back home, not necessarily pushing him away, but creating a distance between similar to the one he often created. They had texted a few times to check in since then, both of them mourning someone that they had been close to separately.

She'd focused on new clues, on being useful in a way that couldn't bring Romeo back, but that could give his family something that they currently didn't have - closure. Her decision to seek Santiago out kept growing though, for as confused as she was, Lottie missed him. She couldn't help but think of how much easier this could be if they could lean on each other like she'd had on him only a few days ago when surrounded by people she had just met. She had filled the awkward silence in the car ride with Taylor Swift's folklore, hoping he would recognize the road back to their alma mater despite how long ago they had attended Yale.

And from there, she had led him to a practice room she had let herself into many, many times, years ago. Once she opened the door, it revealed a small room with only a grand piano sitting in the middle of it. It had occurred to her in Miami, as he sat near her mother's first piano that he could no longer play like he used to after the incident earlier that year. She had met him that way - visiting Celestina when they were only teenagers, back then Santi had only been her friend's younger brother. But piano was how they'd exchanged their first few words. "I know it's not Munequita," she murmured slowly as she moved to sit on the bench, gesturing for him to sit with her, "but I know this used to help. I can be your left hand."

santiago had never stopped grieving , not truthfully. there was always a small tinge of sadness behind his eyes. a sadness he didn't think would ever really go away -- the most important people who helped raise him were gone , there was no calling them to celebrate , to speak to them , to get advice --- nothing , just silence. romeo had not been family by blood but out of proximity , he'd grown akin to the man and learning he had succumb to his injuries had caused that ache in his chest to come back to the surface. however , he had made a promise to lottie and he was keeping to it through now the person creating space was not him , but her. a turn of events that he didn't understand but he would respect.

miami had been a good time for her , she connected with family she had never had the chance to , he was respectful and stood by her and allowed her to gather the pieces her family provided to complete the picture of who her mother was. howevever , something shifted on her side and he couldn't figure it out. by the time he had gathered the courage to ask her about it , a close friend passed and he retreated. texts were exchanged but he made no effort to see her , they were friends as well. he invite to take him out shouldn't have surprised him but it did. he agreed though he wasn't his usual self and it was obvious. the music played in the background but he had zoned it out focusing on the city slowly being left behind for the lush green of familiar roads to back to yale.