skin is fire

Chanel looked over the bag as if it were meant to be some piece of abstract art. She was sure to someone it probably was and they liked that feature of it. Chanel however, was more into Romanticism as an artform and felt like artists like Pollock and Picasso should’ve kept their artwork for the garage. Or garbage can.

“Well good, because I don’t think it would’ve gone with any of your outfits anyway.” She teased, turning her attention to Luca as he seemed to be a little on edge at her appearance. She hadn’t seen him for a while, though understandably since his father had still only just passed away. She couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to lose a fiancee and a father all within the span of two months. But Luca was a hell of a lot stronger than anyone gave him credit for, and honestly seeing him out at all made her feel a little better that he might be getting back to his usual self.

Luca feigned offense, glaring at Chanel.

“Are you kidding me? I think it’d look good on me. I’m tempted to buy it now just to prove a point,” he said playfully, staring at the atrocity he’d placed back on the shelf. Chanel seemed like the perfect person to ask for advice on a Christmas present -- for his girlfriend -- only he couldn’t. Mainly because it was a secret, but he also wasn’t sure how she’d react to the fact that he was dating a Sinclair.

Most of his presents were already picked out anyway, including Chanel’s. Of course he had to get her a present, given all she’d done for their family this last year. 

“Are you Christmas shopping, or just here to shame people on their potential purchases?”

There was a significant delay in Luca’s response and if his cousin wasn’t inebriated then Abel would have found it peculiar. Instead, he nodded, accepted the answer at face value and followed him inside the elevator.

‘Everybody grieves differently.’

He knew that, when Guinevere Costello died, it had been different too and when Luca stood by his decision to continue playing the family screw up, Abel could only smile wryly. He would remind his cousin another time of the promise that he made, to clean his act after the Sinclair girl got shot; this was different, it was his father who died.

Abel wondered how he’d feel if it was Gio who got murdered in cold blood.

“By yourself?” he asked in an attempt to continue the conversation. Any other time Abel would have been good at leaving it at that but he couldn’t always rely on Kai or Violet to handle Luca; he had to try and do better at some point, reach out to his own family and not just when he wanted to.

“Sof isn’t keeping you company?” He knew the answer was no because he’d seen more of Sofia because Leon had been too closed off for her to deal with. “Gimme a call next time Lu, maybe I’ll join you.”

‘By yourself?’

Thinking, in general, was very hard for Luca -- but especially whenever he was wasted. He hadn’t been alone -- he’d been with Paityn a lot. But Abel couldn’t know that, so Luca stayed silent for a long while, trying to form a single cohesive fucking thought. It likely showed in his face -- the way he pursed his lips, with a furrowed brow to match. Luca probably looked like he was trying to solve a very hard puzzle.

He’d been quiet for longer than normal. Which was probably awkward. Luca walked out of the elevator, into his apartment, expecting Abel to follow. Tallulah was there to greet the both of them, and Luca gave her a few pats on the head. 

"I haven’t seen Sofia a lot recently. My own fault. I haven’t felt like. Going out much. Or seeing anyone. Or doing anything.” 

Then Luca remembered that his trusty flask was empty. He wandered over to the kitchen, pulled out two glasses from a cabinet. There was a bottle of scotch on his counter, from earlier, and he poured more than was necessary into two glasses. He handed one to Abel. 

"So tell me about you, man. Everyone’s always checking on me and making sure I’m not gonna go crazy. But what if I wanna make sure none of you are going crazy? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.” Luca paused, realizing that he was talking too much. Not making much sense. Thinking about too much. “...are you and Chanel an item? Twenty-two year old me supports it. But sixteen year old me is fuckin’ heartbroken.”

Money wouldn’t fix this. Paityn thought about the man she’s gotten to know over this past year and couldn’t imagine that money was much of a motivator for Julius Heller. Though, Paityn had a naive way of seeing the best in people. Luca was right, however, that it was his job to keep her safe. She’d just have to find a way to convince him that keeping this secret would be the safest thing for everyone involved.

When Luca led her to the couch, him sitting down next to her, Paityn let herself relax. If only slightly. The time the two had together as limited; she didn’t want to waste time wallowing in ‘what if’s.’ She nodded, trusting the words he spoke and brought a hand to his face. Paityn’s ginger gently stroked his skin before she touched her lips gently on his. She pulled back and looked into Luca’s eyes. “I’m not going to let anyone screw this up,” she whispered. “Not Tristan, not Julius…” Paityn paused for a moment, teeth starting to knaw on the flesh inside her cheek. Anxiety bubbled within, as it typically did, though the rapid beat of her heart broke the facade of confidence behind her words. She couldn’t lose any more people she cared about, but she knew just how inevitable it was; all Paityn could do was believe in the fantasy that everything would be okay. Otherwise, she’d probably break.

“We’re gonna be okay.”

Luca would be lying if he said he didn’t feel anxious about all of this. On top of Tristan already knowing, there was also Julius -- who was sure to figure something out soon. Luca worried about what might happen if anyone else found out -- if either of their families knew about this...

‘We’re gonna be okay.’

It was easy to say. Not so easy to believe. Luca wasn’t a negative person, really, but he found it difficult to be optimistic about the future of this. “Yeah?” He wondered, not sounding entirely convinced. There was a lot of uncertainty in the future. For the both of them.

It probably wasn’t the best time for jokes, but Luca’s timing wasn’t always the best when it came to shit like this anyway. He leaned back on the couch, lazily rested a hand on Paityn’s thigh.

“If people find out and shit goes bad, we can just run away to Mexico. Get fucked up all day, everyday.”

Paityn exhaled and stepped closer, giving Luca a soft, somber smile. She rested her hand on his arm, fingers gently squeezing his bicep. When he stepped aside to let her in, Paityn walked through the threshold, feeling a bit lighter knowing at least momentarily, things between them were stable. 

When Luca mentioned bribing Tristan to keep quiet, she shook her head. “Tristan is the least of our problems,” Paityn stated. She could handle Tristan, and if he needed to be paid off to keep quiet, Paityn had a full trust fund of daddy’s money set aside to use. The lawyers fought hard to keep it from being seized, despite the fact that she never touched the account. If need be, Paityn would use her father’s dirty money to help keep her dirty little secret.

“I’m more worried about Julius,” she said. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep this from him.” Not that she wanted her assigned security to know; he was close with her mother. He’d tell her as soon as he found out, Paityn was sure. “He’s good at his job. I can only sneak away so much.” 

‘Tristan is the least of our problems.’

Luca prepared himself to argue that. Just looking at the guy, Luca could tell he probably had a big mouth -- which was clearly saying something, considering Luca himself wasn’t the best at keeping secrets. But he could keep a secret like this.

Only, right as Luca was about to open his mouth, Paityn mentioned Julius, and Luca’s stomach twisted. He stood by the door, hand still on the door knob, as his drunken mind tried to process some sort of plan for dealing with Julius. 

“Well.” Luca said, with a pathetic shrug. “We can pay him off, too. No? I’ve got money. He has to understand.” There was no other option -- breaking up with Paityn wasn’t even something he wanted to entertain. He grabbed a hold of Paityn’s arm, gently guided her down the hall, towards his living room. He sat her down on the couch, planted himself right beside her. “We just need to make him understand. And even if he doesn’t -- well, his job’s to keep you safe, right? Not worry about who you’re in a relationship with.” 

Paityn’s breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer. Still, her eyes never left his, despite the trembling she felt in her fingers. She feared what would happen if she told him the truth, though she knew the inevitability that lying wouldn’t work out in the end.

“He kissed me once,” she said. “At a party a few moths after…” she hesitated. “It was stupid. He kissed me and I laughed and it never happened again. He’s sleeping on my couch because he has no where else to go,” Paityn paused. Fuck, her head hurt. “If you want, I’ll tell him he has to leave.”

“If this is going to work we have to trust each other.” Paityn knew just how quickly gossip and lies could ruin a good thing. When no one could know they were together, the time they could spend with each other was limited. Paityn had to sleep alone at night, hoping Luca was doing the same. A feeling like that goes both ways. 

“I trust you,” she said. “Do you trust me?”

‘I trust you. Do you trust me?’

Of course he did. But it was easy for him to jump to conclusions whenever he was like this. Luca was emotionally inexperienced, reeling from the first holiday without his father. His only real relationship was Juliet, and he’d ruined that. Then there was Paisley, which certainly didn’t count as much. It was arranged, fake, lacking real depth and emotion. That didn’t mean he didn’t care about her -- but the relationship itself hadn’t taught him very much because it was so fabricated. And now there was Paityn, and this all felt so fragile, on the cusp of breaking if anyone found out. And that guy in her apartment knew about them. Or he must have had some sort of idea now. 

“I do trust you. My head’s just not where it should be,” Luca explained to the best of his ability. The alcohol was making the room spin rather rapidly, so he steadied himself on the door knob. “I don’t care if that dude stays with you. It just... didn’t look good. I freaked out. I’m still freaking out, honestly.”

Luca finally moved out of the way, letting Paityn inside. 

The question of whether Luca should be walking around inebriated and unaccompanied never left his mouth, and Abel just nodded at his cousin’s explanation. It wasn’t the time for drinking, not when they were all in danger but it was a way to keep an eye out on the boy, especially when Abel wasn’t sure what Luca has been up to as of late. 

“I haven’t seen you since the funeral,” he mused as they began their walk back to his place, not that the older male had been around to check on him. Since the attack on Marcel Costello, security had been tightened and Abel knew all too well how the rest of the family got restless when surrounded by armed guards who doubled as their babysitters.

He didn’t want to ask it outright, Abel wanted to coax it out of the boy if he could and hope that Luca would be honest enough to tell him.

Luca made a feeble attempt at walking like a sober person, but he was finding it to be rather difficult – no thanks to all of the vodka already in his system. Drinking more was definitely a bad idea, but that was a problem for future, hungover Luca. Not the current grieving version of himself.

‘I haven’t seen you since the funeral.’

Even inebriated, Luca knew that he’d been doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Pursuing a relationship with Paityn wasn’t a smart thing to do, considering both families were fully at war with the other. It wasn’t just a hook up, either. Not just some weird infatuation with someone who was once supposed to be his fiance. It was a fucking relationship. A real one.

Luca didn’t want Abel to find out. He didn’t want anyone to find out.

“I know,” Luca finally said, as they neared his apartment building. He let himself in, walking right past the doorman. “I’ve been… very busy,” Luca explained. “Smoking weed. Playing video games. Eating junk.”

He walked into the elevator, finger waving around unevenly before finally landing on the button for the top floor. “Everybody grieves differently,” Luca slurred. “And I think my dad would be sorta proud that, even after he was murdered, I continued being a dumbass. Say what you want, Abe, but at least I’m devoted to being a fuck up.” He paused, feeling slightly dizzy. He held onto the rail inside of the elevator. “I’m devoted as fuck, Abe.”

Aaron shrugged, since the funeral hadn’t really affected him that badly. His grandmother had been a nasty bitch who called him a half-breed, and that was when she was being nice. It didn’t compare with Luca’s loss at all, so he didn’t want to even suggest that he understood what his friend was going through. He wasn’t really in touch with his parents anymore, and he wasn’t sure that if he was, his father’s death would hit him the same way it had hit Luca, which left him entirely unsure about what would fix the problem. Aaron liked to fix people’s problems, at least the people he cared about. 

Aaron took a cigarette and nodded along, knowing quite a bit about strict grandparents. “Yeah, immigrants, man, no one taught them assault laws still apply if you’re their grandson.” He rubbed the back of his head, where he had received any numbers of hits from his Filipino relatives over the years. “Sort of. I dunno, my whole neighbourhood is fucked since the riots. Trying to find somewhere else to live. But I can’t really pass a credit check and I don’t have job references. People are so untrusting.” He shook his head. “Sorry, my shit’s so fucking minor.”

Hearing that Aaron was without a place to live immediately concerned Luca. Aaron wasn’t just some guy who worked for the family. He was a friend. Beyond just an employee of his family’s. And Luca couldn’t go back to the funeral knowing that his friend was without a place to stay. Helping Aaron find a solution to this served as a partial distraction from the funeral. Even if just for a few minutes. 

"Not having a place to stay isn’t minor, dude. I’ll get Beth to set you up at the penthouse downtown. It was technically supposed to be mine and...”

He trailed off. His and Paisley’s starter home, but it was about the furthest thing possible from that. It was fully furnished, with more bedrooms than he knew what to do with. And he owned it. He hadn’t stepped foot in there since he’d last visited with Paisley, about a week before the wedding. It was just sitting there, collecting dust. Someone may as well enjoy it. 

“Anyway. Don’t worry about a credit check... or rent. And I really don’t feel like fucking arguing about this right now, so just say yes and we can figure the rest out later.”

Nat felt a chill when Luca pulled his hand away from hers. It didn’t feel like rejection or disappointment, but more of a missed opportunity. For both of them. Luca may not have meant much by the small action, but Natalia picked up the message loud and clear. Though, she was never one to dwell on the past. Luca’s father was dead. He needed to grieve. 

“I’m drinking wine,” she said. “Won’t get you too fucked up, unless you drink a few bottles.” 

“Let’s do shots,” Natalia added. She didn’t want to damper his mood. Fun. That was easy for Nat; she knew how to have a good time. With Luca’s hired security, they could indulge in their wealth. “We could do a few lines if you want?” she offered. While cocaine wasn’t her drug of choice, she knew Luca had a taste for it. 

Who was she to judge in the wake of such tragedy? They were young, rich and had privilege and opportunity dripping from their pores. Access to such relief was easy. Of course they’d take advantage. “Let’s turn the world upside down,” she suggested with a smile. Luca clearly didn’t want to pursue any romantic relationship, but that didn’t mean the two couldn’t haev a bit of fun.

Shots sounded good to Luca. He quickly ordered them both a round, and the mention of cocaine actually had him hesitating -- just for a brief moment. He’d been trying to cut back on all of that shit, but since the death of his father, he figured he didn’t need to be so strict on himself. Besides, his security was here, so it’s not like he could get too out of hand.

“I’m down,” Luca said, glancing down at the shots that were placed in front of them. He picked one up, held it in his hand briefly, before holding it up to toast. “Here’s to the worst fucking year of my life.” He didn’t wait for Natalia to respond before knocking back the shot with ease. He immediately ordered another round for the pair of them. If Nat didn’t drink the second shot, he most certainly would. 

"Meet me in the bathroom for a line?” 

Aaron wasn’t sure what the etiquette was when your friend’s dad died. Did you offer support or a shoulder to cry on, or just see if they wanted to get high? Luca was also his best customer, so that added an element of a conflict of interest to the problem. “I mean, if you were ever allowed to lose your shit, I figure it’d be at a funeral. It’s pretty much an Irish tradition. My dad’s mom died and the whole family ended up having a shouting match in the street about the clothes she got buried in. Pretty sure my aunts still aren’t talking to each other.” His dad’s family were poor and Irish only by way of Chicago, but that was more than enough, as far as they were concerned. 

“You need to chill? We can bounce if you want. I dunno, unless you wanna hit the reception blazing. At least there’ll be snacks.” Aaron was more than willing to support his friend in attending a funeral reception and eating small sandwiches, should that be required of him.

Luca raised a brow as Aaron explained his grandmother’s funeral. Honestly, Luca wouldn’t have been surprised if a fight broke out at his own father’s funeral. It just made sense -- some distant relative mouthing off to his very Italian grandfather. Giuseppe Costello was seventy-five years old, but still, the man wasn’t afraid to put people in their place. Luca certainly didn’t want to be the one to piss him off. 

“That’s rough,” Luca simply said, eyes glancing across the street, wondering if people had noticed that he hadn’t come back yet. “Nah,” Luca finally said, deciding that he’d get in too much trouble for causing trouble at his father’s funeral. “I’ll go back. In like, fifteen minutes. I just needed a fucking break,” he explained. A break from all the sobbing, from the heartache of a dead father -- though he knew there was really no escaping that. Luca cleared his throat before fumbling for a cigarette. He didn’t smoke regularly -- but he’d bought a pack right before the funeral. “I can’t have a meltdown ‘cause my grandfather’s there. He’s strict as fuck. A little scary.” Luca lit the cigarette, took a drag and exhaled away from Aaron. He extended the pack out to his friend, silently offering one. “You really come around here just for some coffee?”

When Luca shook her awake, the first thing Paityn felt was the ache in her head. Then, she heard him speak and remembered what happened. She stood up quickly. A mistake, given the fact she was somehow both hungover and still drunk at the same time. 

“Luca, just let me explain,” she said, trying to get her balance. “Tristan works for my family, he’s just sleeping on my couch.”

“I’m so sorry,” she claimed. “I get that it looks bad, but I promise nothing happened.”

Luca had really only been in one serious relationship before, and that was with Juliet. And he’d fucked that up royally. Still, all of this felt so out of character for him -- he wasn’t the type of person who blindly threw accusations at someone else, but his emotions were running high, and he was too confused to process any sort of logic. Besides -- would Paityn even tell him the truth? Was she just sparing his feelings? 

Luca was breaking his own heart before she could. 

“He was sleeping on your couch. He was half naked, Pait.” 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could tell that he sounded ridiculous. He wished he could tell himself to stop, to simply go inside and go to bed, sleep it off, and have this discussion whenever he was sober.

He took a step toward her, nearly closing the gap between them. He searched for her eyes. 

"Nothing happened?” 

Piper had to hand it to her private investigator ⏤ their intel was good. And not just good, but reliable. Or maybe it was Luca Costello who was the reliable one; for all of his youthful gallivanting around the city, no doubt driven to drink and drugs by the loss of his wife-to-be and father, he did seem to retrace the same routes. It didn’t take long for her driver to get eyes on the youngest Costello. It took even less time for him to discreetly deposit Piper on the street with one member of her security team tailing at a favorable distance. 

The heels of her boots were far less discreet. With each step, they announced her presence to anyone nearby: the group of men in sports jerseys passing by, the couple exiting a nearby convenience store, the raccoon rifling through a trash can at the curb. Even Luca caught on, swiveling around with a look of disdain reserved for someone else.

(Maybe also for her, by association.)

“Luca Costello. That’s no way to speak to a lady. Especially a lady who was nearly your aunt-in-law,” Piper said, baring her teeth in a smile rivaling one of a predator closing in on its prey. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to be out without security?” She stepped closer, her heels increasingly menacing with each move toward the young man. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a war going on in this city.”

'...especially a lady who was nearly your aunt-in-law.’

Luca didn’t like to talk about Paisley, but even drunk, he knew better than to snap at Piper. Tensions were running high, and despite his own fragility, Luca managed to bite his tongue -- though he made no effort to hide the look of annoyance that washed across his features. Normally, under different circumstances, he might’ve been kinder. But he was far too inebriated and emotional to control the way that he behaved. 

She walked towards him, and Luca instinctively took a small step back (more of a stumble, really, but he managed to catch himself on a bike rack.)

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be without security?” Luca retorted childishly. The likelihood that Piper was actually walking around without security was relatively low. She seemed like a smart woman. “My bodyguards’ll catch up to me. They always fucking seem to.”

A slight hiccup escaped his lips. He reached for the flask in his jacket pocket, unscrewed the cap, and downed what little vodka was left inside. The pain of the last few months reflected in Luca’s eyes. The air was cold. 

"Yeah. I know there’s a war. My dad just fucking died like, less than a month ago. Then my fiance, a few months before that.” Luca sighed, tilted his head back as he stared up at the sky. Talking was exhausting -- normally Luca didn’t think so. 

“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you,” Luca finally said, though he showed absolutely no intention of leaving first.

“It’s fine,” Abel dismissed as blue eyes swept over the inebriated state of his cousin. He hadn’t seen Luca since the funeral, and perhaps the older male had deliberately distanced himself from his cousins as he busied himself with the business. 

“I dropped by your place but you were out.”

He was never good at providing comfort and emotional support for any of them, and Abel had always left that task to the likes of Violet and Kai but the thought of suddenly losing any one of them, and his fear of becoming isolated, of turning into someone worse than his father made Abel want to try.

“I just wanted to borrow Lulah,” he half-lied.

There was no use in pretending that he was sober. Abel was no idiot, and the smell of alcohol was rather prominent. Still, Luca attempted to straighten himself up if only slightly -- to try and lessen the effects of the alcohol, somehow. 

“Yeah. I wanted to go for a walk,” he explained slowly, a feeble attempt at not slurring his words. He tried to enunciate perfectly. “You can always borrow Lulah,” Luca assured his cousin. He walked over to Abel, slapped a hand onto his shoulder. “Come have a few drinks with me. You can see Tallulah. I’m almost out anyway,” Luca said as he dug for the flask in his jacket. He pulled it out, waving it around so Abel could hear the mostly empty slosh of vodka inside.