// pink in the night

Violet’s eyes widened at the sight of Juliet; she hadn’t expected to see her here. In fact, she hadn’t seen much of Luca’s ex since they’d broken up. Then again, she’d always thrown herself into her work, her marriage, the business — so much so, she rarely had time for socializing in general. If it wasn’t for Sofia practically dragging her out, Violet would’ve likely been been doing something much less exciting.

— And much better for her health.

Still, the liquor had created a pleasant haze over her vision, numbing the conflict she felt about her husband, and the underlying buzz left over from the events at the wedding.

“Just a cigarette, for now,” Violet grinned, drumming her knuckles across her glass, rings clinking against it, “Other smoking is saved for when I can take off my pants and veg on the couch.”

“Surprised to see you here. You can give me the full update while we pollute our lungs.”

It would be easy to be intimidated by Violet, knowing who she is and what she does. But she was surprisingly easy to talk to, and Juliet was never left with the impression that she was being lulled into a false sense of security. She thought Violet probably was a truly nice person. It was possible to be that, and do morally ambiguous work. Although people often thought Juliet was soft, or prissy, she really wasn’t. Her upbringing saw to that.

So if she was introduced to someone that was married to the second in command of a mob family, and did shady work for them, she wasn’t going to judge as long as that person was nice. Violet definitely was that: she’d been sweet to Juliet. They’d not really seen each other in a while, since she’d broken up with Luca and Violet and Leon were separated, but it felt surprisingly natural to fall into easy conversation.

“The full update?” Juliet asked, slipping off the barstool so they could head outside. “Shit, does sitting in a bar sipping a mocktail make me look like someone with updates? I’m just trying to keep my nose clean. Clean as it’ll ever be, in my line of work anyway. How’s things with you?”

Mason wasn’t a talker. In fact, if he could avoid talking for the rest of his life, he’d do it in a heart beat. So, the way his sister turned him into an annoying, rambling mess just with the mention of Mia’s name, frustrated him to no end. She was a friend, and that was that. He didn’t like getting all flustered over things like this. 

Swallowing his pride, Mason shrugs, tilting his head at her. “Jules, it’s my job to find ways to annoy you. Without that, I’m nothing,” he promptly replies, seemingly returning to his relaxed persona. 

"Ah, and you do such a good job of it,” Juliet grinned. It wasn’t true. Mason never annoyed her. She depended on him, even if she pretended not to. He was very much her rock, and she’d struggled without him. “Although I’d appreciate it if you could like, hold off on the annoying for a couple of months. Gotta focus on my studies, because if I don’t get my degree then I can’t send a copy of it to mom and dad with an attached image of me flipping them off, and then I’m going to be crushed.”

That’s if they aren’t already dead or in prison, which was a distinct possibility. Juliet had no idea where they were or what they were doing, but if they were alive, the little spark of spite that motivated her would love nothing more than to rub it in that they hadn’t ruined her and Mason’s lives entirely.

Aaron stared at the book, trying to decide why someone would want to read something that had driven its’ author to suicide. “So … you wanna write about a girl wanting to kill herself? Are you okay, J? Like, I have some indica that’s got really good levels of THC, and according to this video I watched, it can help with like, serotonin uptake or whatever.” He obviously didn’t want Juliet to kill herself. What was it about college that made everyone so crazy? Possibly the debt. Money made everyone crazy. “What’s a dissertation, anyway? Is it like, a book? Cuz if you write a book, you should write one about me.” Grinning, he flashed his teeth at her, which had cost him several months worth of income in order to afford to get them fixed, but seemed worth it now that he didn’t have a fucked up smile anymore. No one ever melted over a snaggle tooth. “I’m every Republican’s nightmare: an anchor baby who grew up to be in a gang and deal drugs. I’m probably taking jobs from hard-working tax-paying Americans too.” Still holding the book, he looked at the woman on the back cover. “She doesn’t look like she wants to kill herself. Maybe she just needed a hug or something.”

Juliet laughed. She couldn’t not laugh with Aaron; he was very sweet, even if he was wildly committed to his sales tactics. He knew, probably, that Juliet wasn’t planning on buying drugs from him, or anyone, but she had to admire his hustle.

Chanel had an addiction, and it was coffee. Not caffeine. Coffee. She turned her nose up at most sodas, and any energy drinks. But coffee was her weakness and the more eccentric and annoying it was to make, the better. That’s why she found herself walking into the little coffee shop as it neared midnight, rather than sleeping in her bed to wake up at 6am and start her day off fixing messes and spreading good cheer.

She was about to head over to the counter to order her usual late night beverage, when she spotted a few familiar faces. One of them was Hector, a security guard under the payroll of the Costellos. She liked Hector. He was big and tough looking, but damn did he have a soft spot for a good jellyroll. She briefly wondered if Brew St. carried any before she turned her attention to the one he seemed to be guarding. Juliet Carmichael.

Chanel remembered her from the days that she and Luca were an item. Luca was always a headache when it came to his affairs, but Chanel remembered what it was like when they were together, even before the Costello image became a constant worry for her. Juliet was good for Luca. She seemed to be a good person in general. Probably too good to be tied up with the family, as much as she loved them, or with their business. And yet here she was, being guarded on a late night, just trying to do… Homework?

Walking over to where the two of them were located, Chanel offered a kind hello to Hector and then pulled the chair back that Juliet had mentioned, and sat in it. Since they were both here, might as well do a routine check up on Costello employees. A good way to keep a positive image was to make sure their employees didn’t have anything to bad mouth them about.

“I see Hector is taking care of you tonight. Is it something serious?”

Chanel was always busy. Busy busy; that was the impression that Juliet had of her, largely. Even when Juliet felt busy, like she was juggling a big essay and a couple of important events for work, it always felt like nothing when she saw Chanel flitting around juggling a hundred things at once. She reminded Juliet of a hummingbird, jewel bright and wings flapping faster than you could see.

For that reason, she wouldn’t say she knew Chanel, even if they orbited the same social circles. Juliet was quiet and tried not to get underfoot -- she didn’t make waves. It probably spoke in her favour that they hadn’t crossed paths too often. Juliet could imagine that if she was anything like her parents, Chanel would have spent a lot of time putting out fires when she was with Luca.

“Just some run-of-the-mill Roma excitement.” Juliet shook her head with a gentle smile. She looked up at Chanel, and quickly away again. Chanel was really beautiful, the sort of beautiful that’s hard to look at too long. Juliet felt mousy in comparison, even all dressed up for work. “You know the story. Guy pays for services, guy tries to get more than what he’s paid for, guy gets barred. Just a drunk idiot -- I prefer to leave the real excitement for the more outgoing girls.

She had her niche at Roma. The clients that wanted wild, reckless fun, the sort of clients more prone to dangerous behaviour, didn’t hire Juliet. She spent most of her working life getting taken to art gallery openings and talking literature over expensive dinner, which suited her just fine. She rarely had trouble with her clients. They knew what they wanted from her, and she knew what she wanted from them, and it worked out nicely for the most part. Tonight was very much a blip, and Juliet didn’t feel too shaken up by it.

“Miami was fun,” and I screwed your ex. But Natalia wasn’t one to make situations awkward over sex. “It went by too quickly, though. I need to go back,” Nat said, smiling at Juliet. “You should come next time,” she added. “I know you’re not much for partying but it’s nice to get away from the city. I can even get one of my contacts to get plane tickets and a suite in exchange for a few posts on Social.” 

Quiet and reserved, Nat always thought Juliet needed to break out of her shell a bit. She tip-toes through life so cautiously; though, Nat couldn’t really blame her. The two came from very different walks of life but the past was no reason to hide in the shadows. Natalia kept a tab on various goings on in the Costello empire and felt terrible for Luca’s first love when Mason went to prison. “I’m sure you’re excited your brother’s out. Must be nice to see him walk free again.” 

That was an incredibly sweet offer, one Juliet hadn’t expected. She did worry sometimes, about being a drag because of the not-drinking thing. She’d always been a little intimidated by the other kids at the expensive school the Costellos sent her to,  because they had everything she didn’t, and represented everything she wasn’t. It was likely she’d never stop being a wallflower, but it made her smile to be included in things. Nat didn’t have to invite her, even if it wasn’t a concrete plan. “That’d be really nice, I’d love that. Maybe I’d get drunk if there was a cute blonde surfer mixing my cocktails for me.”

Her expression brightened at the mention of her brother. Juliet was beyond delighted that he was free. He was the only family she had, or the only family she acknowledged, and the five years without him had left her feeling like a sleepwalker. A lot had changed in those five years, but things felt normal with Mason back. She wasn’t Juliet, student by day and escort by night, somehow entwined with the mob by a twist of fate. She was Juliet, little sister. A person with a family. “Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s felt like forever, but I guess five years isn’t as bad as it could be. Honestly, I always figured one or the other of us would end up in prison for life at some point, because, y’know, cycle of poverty and all that. We didn’t bank on having fancy Costello lawyers on our side, though, and that made a world of difference.”

Of course, Mason went to prison because of his work with the Costellos. But, he also got off lightly, and was able to come back into a job, because of them too.

Wearing just a t-shirt and pants probably wasn’t the way to go in Chicago right now. But the damn weather was changing so fast that Flynn couldn’t keep up. “Shit, since when did it get so cold? Wasn’t it like ninety degrees two days ago? You got a light?” This at least would warm him up.

“Sure,” Juliet offered the stranger a smile, tossing him her zippo - it was engraved with a tiny likeness of Queen Mab, a gift from a client after a long conversation about Romeo and Juliet, and the motif of dreams and fantasy. It was a sweet gesture, if a little cliche. She heard a lot of Shakespeare talk because of her name, which got old; but, she was always keen to discuss the Bard.

“Although I think you might need more than a smoke to warm up. I’d offer you my jacket, but it might be a little tight on you. Did you forget it was autumn?”

Salma didn’t think that she had ever spoken to Juliet, but she had noticed her before. She seemed rather quiet and shy, and Salma was surprised to see her in a place like the Sapphire. Hell, she was a little bit surprised that she did what she did. It was a curious thing, why the various women at the Roma and the Venetian did what they did. She supposed that they didn’t all have a tragic backstory like Salma, but she wouldn’t be surprised if more of them didn’t. After all, what they were doing took a special kind of person. 

She pouted as she looked at Juliet. “Come on, one drink, please?” She asked. If Juliet insisted that she didn’t want to drink, Salma wouldn’t push further, but she was curious if she could get her to agree to one. “What’re you doing here if you don’t drink?” She asked curiously. Perhaps she had a problem with drinking? Hm. It was curious.

In a lot of ways, Juliet would consider herself strong willed. She also knew, though, where her weaknesses lay, and she was pretty bad at saying no to people. Especially when they said ‘please’. One drink probably wouldn’t hurt, after all. It wasn’t like Juliet never ever drank at all, she just preferred not to. She’d only been drunk a handful of times, and every time she’d woken up the next day feeling awful - a sliding guilt in her gut that she was heading the same way as her parents.

But one drink was probably fine. One drink didn’t make her an alcoholic. So after a moment of hesitation, she agrees. “One drink, then, if only because it’s rude to make someone drink alone. And I don’t know... I guess I like the atmosphere? I like people watching. I live by myself, and if I didn’t come out once in a while I’d probably just detach from reality and float away. What about you, you don’t get sick of all the noise?” Juliet imagined if she worked as a performer, she’d want to finish work and go somewhere quiet - not somewhere with hundreds of people all talking and laughing, and music that drowned out your thoughts. Surely Salma gets enough of that at work. Juliet tried, unsuccessfully, to catch the bartenders attention so they could order drinks -- she didn’t quite have the aggression for it in a place this busy.

Maya nodded, “it was brutal - you know those people that clearly don’t want to go home?” She sighed, it wasn’t like she didn’t feel bad, after all there were times when she herself felt lonely, but after a long shift her empathy had weened, and all she wanted to do was toss them out so she could go home. “I swear people are getting lonely then they used to.” She took a sip of her coffee, looking down at her phone making sure she hadn’t missed a text. Wouldn’t be the first time someone thought she was ghosting them because she’s slow to check her phone.

“Finnish up and let’s go, I’m dying to change into my sweats,” she smiled, “my cars parked out front… and when I say out front I mean on a yellow line, but honestly parking in this city is dreadful. What was I meant to do?”

Juliet drained her coffee, leading the way to the door with a soft, happy expression. Things always felt natural with Maya. Like she didn’t have to impress, or be anyone but herself. “Um, not have a car? Uber is way more convenient. Were you working at Bella’s or the Venetian? Actually -- doesn’t even matter. What’s up with people thinking waitresses or performers are there to listen to their life story? Like they can’t see there’s a bunch of other customers waiting. See next time, tell them to go to Roma and ask for Juliet. The girlfriend experience is like, my niche. I’m great at pretending to care, so I’ll happily take those customers off your hands.”

She wasn’t sure what that said about her, or her skills as an escort, but that tended to be what people were interested in with her -- and hey, if people wanted to pay through the nose and then spend the better part of the evening watching movies and telling her about their day, that was just fine by Juliet.

All that Luca wanted for Juliet was for her to be happy. It hadn’t been easy to want that for her at first, when they’d ended things for good. Luca had been so heartbroken over Juliet, he didn’t want her to be happy if it wasn’t with him. Luca had been young. Juliet was his first love. Moving on didn’t feel like an option for him. He didn’t understand the concept of being happy for someone else - of admiring them from afar, as if his heart wasn’t being fucking torn in two every time that he pictured her smiling at someone else.

As time went on, the hurt subsided. It still lingered every now and again, but being around Juliet too much just made him miss her. It wasn’t good for either of them.

Luca froze, feeling his stomach twist as Juliet mentioned the wedding. Paisley. Oh. If only she knew the hell that he’d been through behind closed doors. She’d be disappointed in him. He’d been self medicating with just about anything that he could get his hands on. Pills, alcohol. Sometimes mixed together, which was dangerous. Then his trip to Miami was fucking wild. Luca told himself that was it, though. That was his last big party weekend. 

Luca hadn’t gotten any better about discussing the wedding. Paisley had died in his fucking arms. His family was being blamed for it. Now, almost a month later, there were still no answers.

All he wanted to do was shut down. But he couldn’t. Not in the middle of a fucking coffee shop. Not in front of Juliet.  

“Shit was bad. Still is, I guess. But it’s getting better. You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” Luca said, uncharacteristically quiet. She didn’t owe him anything. She never did. 

Luca stayed silent for a beat. Grieving was exhausting. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life, Jules. All I want is to just move on and be okay again. Go back to normal. Maybe sleep for sixteen hours straight.”

It was funny - not funny ha ha, but funny peculiar. Juliet had thought she’d broken her heart pretty effectively when she’d broken up with Luca, and been serious about the fact that this was the last time. It had hurt, but she’d had to do it because the heartbreak of a ‘what if’ was never going to be as bad as the heartbreak she knew Luca would give her if she didn’t leave.

So why was there still room for her heart to break a little more, when she saw Luca like this?

It must be half dust by now, she thought.

She’d seen him in a bad way a lot of times before. Mostly it had been easy to respond with anger, because he would also be drunk, or high. It was always worse when he was sober, but Juliet couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but sorrow, and a profound desire to fix things. This wasn’t something she could fix. Luca’s problems were big, now, far bigger than high school, and who was Juliet? Just nobody, just somebody the Costellos had taken pity on enough to get her out of the gutter.

“You’re doing pretty amazing just still being here. That takes a lot of strength. If I was you I’d definitely be halfway across the world with a fake identity by now.” She nudged her knee against his under the table. “Are you talking to anyone? Like a professional, I mean. I’ve been seeing a therapist lately to help me deal with all the shit in my head from my parents, and it... it helps. It might make a difference talking to someone that’s objective. I guess everyone you can talk to right now, they can’t be very objective about this whole thing. It’s too political, everyone’s too involved.”

After what Luca had been through, ‘help’ was probably beyond the scope of what most people could offer. Juliet had no idea what she could say that might make a difference. She felt helpless, useless.

Mason was ready to give Juliet a snippy reply, until she name-dropped Mia. Clenching his jaw, the man quickly averts his eyes, his fingers grazing through his hair, trying to play off what she had just said as casually as he could. This was something he didn’t miss, for sure. Just as easy as Juliet could wrap him right around her finger, she could get under his skin. 

“I don’t know, it’s not like–no. No. You know what? Just for that, I’m growing it out again.”

She felt kind of bad for how obviously riled up the comment got him, but it also kind of made her happy. Mason and Mia had been hooking up for ages, and he got bashful whenever Juliet teased him about it, and that had to be a good thing. It meant he liked her, had some sort of feelings for her, and maybe if he could admit that, he’d even have a shot at being happy with her.

“Sorry, was that below the belt?” Juliet grinned. “But you know, I think you’re overestimating how many fucks I give about your hair. As long as your hair, and like, you in general, isn’t in prison, it can look how it likes. I think you’re the one that cares about your hair. If you grow it out, you gotta grow it out for you, not just to try and annoy me.”

Elijah was out walking, though he’d lost track of where. He’d smoked a bowl before he went out, wanting to clear his brain of all the transgressions that had been building up over the past couple of weeks. He’d been feeling aggressive, in the need for a fight but with nowhere to direct it. Not yet, anyway.

So going for a walk was his best solution.

As he walked, he looked up at the sky, breathing in the fresh air. It was finally starting to feel like fall again, which for him was his favorite time of the year. Aside from costumes and trick or treating being the best thing to ever happen to him as a kid, it also meant no longer sweating profusely or needing seven layers just to keep warm. It was the perfect time of year.

Just as he was about to cross the street, however, Elijah swore he saw something fly across the moon. He stopped walking, his mouth agape as he attempted to search for what he’d just seen.

“Yo, did you see that? Fucking aliens or something just flew past. Damn, it’s Halloween, man.”

Every time Juliet finished work, she wondered if she’d miss it when she quit. And she thought, yeah, she probably would. Maybe not the actual work itself, but the money was good, and clients bought her expensive presents, and they liked to spoil her. It was a wildly different lifestyle to the one she grew up in; and maybe once she got her degree she could get out, get a legitimate job, but it wouldn’t allow her this sort of lifestyle.

She was walking home -- which security had made apparent they didn’t like -- thinking of the future, and what it might hold, when a Yo, did you see that? Cut through the sounds of traffic and nighttime chatter. Stopping, Juliet’s gaze followed the direction he was pointing in. She couldn’t see anything, but hey, aliens probably weren’t going to stick around for too long just waiting to be photographed.

A soft smile crossed her face. “Holy shit, was it totally silent, dark gray, and disc-shaped? Maybe we’re having a repeat of the 2006 O’Hare International Airport UFO sighting. I hope you got a picture, the Chicago Tribune would pay good money for that.”

She was just teasing, really. Juliet didn’t necessarily believe in aliens. Not the little green men that would come to earth in flying saucers, anyway. But she lived alone and kept odd hours, and consequently watched a lot of strange, late night TV. There’d been an episode of UFO Hunters about a sighting at the Chicago airport that she’d watched pretty recently, and it stuck with her.

Violet broke away from her friend once she began chatting up some young thing she didn’t recognize, slipping across the neon hued bar on her way to the bar. This time, it wasn’t for a drink. She rose her voice above the music, browns scanning the other faces at the bar, “Anyone got a smoke?”

Juliet never wanted to become a smoker, but it turned out everyone needed a vice. She barely drank, didn’t do drugs, generally walked the straight and narrow -- but somehow, over the years, she acquired a taste for cigarettes. Gave her something to do with her hands, and they helped keep her slim, which felt important for work. 

“Guess it depends what you’re smoking,” Juliet said, her voice soft beneath the thrum of music. She was joking, mostly. If Violet wanted anything stronger than cigarettes, Juliet would know who to text. Then again, if Violet wanted anything stronger than cigarettes, she could probably find it just fine by herself.

“What do you mean, you didn’t like my long hair? I’m your brother, you’re supposed to love every single thing about me.

@julict-carmichael

"I mean, the length, fine. Man-buns are a thing now. But the split ends? Tragic. I’m just saying, if you’re gonna grow it back out then you need to get regular trims. I’m not here to love every single thing about you, I’m here to tell you the truth. Then again, my opinion probably isn’t the most important - what did Mia think of the long hair?”

All that Livia wanted was a nice night out. But she’d been subjected to listening to some fucking idiot mansplain his entire biochemistry degree. Livia was passionate about science, but she didn’t give a fuck about this dude and the patronizing tone that he’d been using on her all night.

Then, he casually mentioned how he’d been living in his mother’s basement for the last six years, with no intention of moving out anytime soon. 

Without saying another word, Livia quietly grabbed her drink and got up from the table.

Although Juliet didn’t drink, she did go to bars sometimes. After work, when she wanted to wind down. Or when she didn’t want to be alone. Living in her own apartment was amazing, a tranquillity she’d never dreamed of as a child, but she also sometimes missed the chaos in a strange way. So she’d sit at the bar with a fun, brightly coloured mocktail - the more umbrellas and fruit the better - and just drink in the atmosphere.

She was watching with amusement as a guy talked and talked and talked to someone Juliet vaguely recognised. Knew the face, not the name, not the role, but she was pretty sure she was with the Costellos. “Wanna know a fun fact about that guy?” Juliet said as the woman neared, leaning in with a conspiratorial air. “The reason he can’t afford to move out of his mother’s basement is because he spends all his money on expensive escorts.” Juliet had been subjected to a couple of evenings with him. He was... nice enough, and Juliet didn’t know much about biochemistry so she was happy enough to listen to him talk, but he did go on.

No matter how much time went by, Luca knew he’d always have a soft spot for Juliet. Seeing her again made his heart ache. He just missed her sometimes. Not just the relationship, but the time they spent together. Their friendship. She’d been his first love, and he’d fucked that up. Royally.

Luca brushed those thoughts to the side, for now. He couldn’t unpack all of those feelings - not with Juliet right in front of him. 

He listened as she explained why she had security accompanying her. Luca wasn’t the most intimidating guy in the world, but knowing that someone had threatened Juliet in some capacity didn’t sit right with him. He felt the anger flare up, and all he wanted to do was bitch at Derek for not preventing it from happening in the first place. That’s what good security did. 

“That asshole better not be allowed back in,” Luca simply stated. He stared at Derek as he spoke. Aside from Luca’s last name, he didn’t carry very much weight within the organization. Derek had no real reason to listen to Luca, other than the fact that Luca was a Costello - by blood. And if Luca wanted to, he could very well make Derek’s life hell. 

Luca refrained from snapping. He glanced back down at Juliet, and his expression softened significantly. He stared at her, probably in a similar way that he had whenever he was fifteen. Before the wedding, before his addictions had surfaced. Whenever she was just the center of his world.

He swallowed. That was so long ago. 

“I know you can look after yourself, Jules. Some people are just fucking crazy. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Juliet met his gaze, and quickly regretted it. His expression was soft. Sweet, and clear. He was sober, she thought. Good - good for him, she’d been worried that after the wedding he’d lose control, but he looked well. As well as could be expected.

Which was a little inconvenient for her, really. It was easier when she could be mad at him for being drunk, or high. When he was sober, all she could think about was the good in him. The sweetness, the protectiveness, the sensitivity. It was why she’d given him so many chances, gotten back with him only to break up the next time he slipped. Juliet felt guilty for that, like she’d been stringing him along; but she’d strung herself along, too. It was easier to just accept that regardless of feelings, they weren’t compatible. He liked to party, which was fine. Juliet didn’t like to party, which was also fine. It just meant there wasn’t a future there.

That thought would probably always make her a little melancholy, though. He looked at her with those soft brown eyes, and Juliet glanced down, unable to hold his gaze. Better not to. However dear this side of him was, there would always be the Jekyll to his Hyde. It might be a romantic notion in literature, but in real life, it’s not practical. Juliet needed stability.

“Nothing will,” she said, fiddling with the edges of her book. Being around Luca felt at once so easy, and so difficult. She only wanted to be his friend. “Especially now Mason’s out of prison. Between my protective big brother and the security at work, I think I’ll be okay.”

Juliet shot him a smile, one that was supposed to be reassuring. Everything was so complicated - sometimes she wished Mason had never gotten involved with the Costellos. They might have put her through school and given her a good job, but they’d also led to her brother’s arrest, caused her heart to break. It was a difficult scale to balance. “Luca, I’m-- I’m sorry. I was going to call, or text, after the wedding. I should have. I just thought, you’d have a million people trying to talk to you, and I... I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been a bad friend. And I’m sorry.”