LOTERÍA.

a starter for: @penelopesantana​  location: grossly in love @ shakespeare in the park 

Manuel handed Penelope a fresh drink, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “Did I mention how pretty ya look tonight?” About a million times, “The leading ladies Willy Shakespeare wrote about got nothin’ on you, Pen.” And as a big fan of Shakespeare, that was saying a lot, “Should we go find a good spot? Or keeping mingling and stuff?” He asked. 

›››

She smiles as she clinks her drink against his, shaking her head at him. “Maybe once or twice,” she said with a happy laugh. “I don’t think Willy could’ve ever wrote anyone near my caliber, babe,” she lifts a hand in defense. As much as she was flattered, she thought otherwise after reading his work. Her eyes trail over the people, shaking her head after a moment. “Let’s go find a spot, I don’t feel like people-ing anymore, to be honest.” 

OPEN STARTER LOCATION: somewhere mingly in the park idk

“Believe it or not, this truly is my first time,” Dave is explaining, pausing to take a sip of the beer in his hand. “I don’t mind Shakespeare– of course, I know Shakespeare,” mostly thanks to a few ex-girlfriends and, above all, Julian, “but he was never really… my cup of tea, y’know?” 

›››

She nods, raising an eyebrow at him. His first time? She was only a little in disbelief. “Are you from here?” she asked, taking a swig of her own beer. “You’re that guy with the governor,” she said. Yikes. Maybe she should’ve paid attention to local politics more... either way, it seemed like they were both screwed in the end anyways. He definitely must’ve working for the government. “They should have a sticker or something for first-timers.”

SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK PRESENTS: RICHARD III

. 

Manuel kissed her back, humming against her lips, “Rats I can definitely protect ya from. I’m taller than ‘em.” And he wasn’t taller than much, “I hate the roaches more. My place just got fucking fumigated and they’re still kicking. It’s ridiculous.” He seemed to spend most of his time at Penelope’s lately anyway, so he didn’t have to worry too much about the ugly, huge bugs. 

He faux groaned, following behind as he held onto her hand- he could use some Flamin’ Hots anyway, “What kind of drink? Like a slurpee situation or alcohol or Gatorade? Or kombucha. Forgot about that one.” His hand was already diving into his pocket to retrieve his wallet to cover their haul, “Did you eat? You should get a snack or somethin’ too. Your shifts are so damn long!” 

›››

A laugh escaped her listening to Manuel, “I don’t know... I feel like I’ve seen a rat this size of you,” she said. Her face twisted into disgust as he spoke about the realities of living in New York and another shive crawled down her spine. “I can’t believe you pay rent for that place,” she said to him, eyes wide from horror. She continued pulling him down the street, opening the door to the brightly lit bodega. 

“I’m feeling a Mango slurpee and Hot Cheetos,” Penelope decided, heading towards the machine. “Wow, shame on you... for assuming I would leave a shift at The Cancún without a treat,” she said, grabbing the largest cup and pulling the lever to dispense the frozen drink. "I would say you should something that tastes good with tequila,” she suggested, a shrug following her words. “But... that’s if you don’t want kombucha, Mister Healthy.” 

x.

“Honestly,  that  would  be  rad  as  hell.”  If  she  believed,  truly  believed,  she  would  have  said  god  sent  her  an  angel.  Yet,  she  didn’t.  Not  entirely,  at  least.  “You  don’t  have  to  help  with  the  box,  I  can  carry  it,  but  if  you  could  just,”  she  shifted  the  box,  trying  to  get  a  better  hold  on  it.  “Open  the  doors.  You’d  be  a  real  saint.”

›››

She nods, waving a hand. Even better, she didn’t have to put her nails in harms way. “No problem, I can definitely open a door,” she said, turning around and beginning to walk up the stairs. “At least it seems like you’re the only one moving in today!” she noted the positive of having to walk up the hellish stairs. “Just let me know when– and I’ll be the best door-opener New York can offer,” she optimistically said. Her podcast had put her in a chipper mood for the morning, luckily. 

Status: Open Location: Outside her apartment building

Why  did  she  think  that  she  could  carry  a  box,  twice  the  the  size  of  her,  filled  with  who  knows  what,  up  3  sets  of  stairs  by  herself?  She  was  a  fool.  She  shouldn’t  of  accept  the  nice  deliveryman’s  help.  Now  she  was  suffering,  suffering.  

“I  don’t  know  who  is  in  front  of  me,”  she  warned  as  she  heard  footsteps.  “I  can’t  see  very  well  with  this  thing  and  really,  and  I  mean  really,  don’t  want  to  run  into  you.”  

›››

Her headphones were attached to her head, focused on the lifestyle podcast streaming through. Today, she was practicing generosity– the suggestion led by the podcast. She made her way down the stairs of her apartment building, stopping suddenly at the box with two legs approaching her. 

Penelope pulled her headphones down, shaking her head at the sound of the voice. “Oh–, no, don’t worry,” she said, looking down at her watch. A part of rushed self wanted to keep speeding by the girl but the other part yelled at her to really practice it. “You need help?” she asked. 

I’ll even shout it from the speakerphone! Nora had to release a light laugh at Penelope’s words. Her medical records were fine, but this, the grand return of Pen’s humor truly implied her cousin had been recovering nicely.

“You two deserve each other,” she heaved a sigh for a dramatic effect. As if she was listening to Manuel.

“Mhm,” she nodded in understanding, somewhat concerned. All Penelope told her was true– he had the means, the connections. It was a slippery slope, still. Even if no one else knew Seb’s ways as well as Penelope, no other person had been hurt by him as much– Nora feared Penelope’s lifelong wish to have a father (along with Sebastian’s smile– as deceitful as it was charming) would make her forget all about his past behaviors. On the other hand, Nora rejoiced at the thought of Penelope pursuing her one true passion. “Just… Promise me you won’t forget who you’re dealing with. Or else I’ll be the one haunting you.” Nora hoped sincerely, from the bottom of the heart, her words would stick with Penelope, especially if the older cousin wasn’t around to remind the other. “I’m proud of you. You’ll always be my witchy cousin, but you’re an artist first and foremost.”

›››

Penelope gave her a small smile, nodding her head while her eyes rolled back. Maybe, she did deserve someone like Manuel after everything she had been dealt with in life. As much as she convinced herself that she didn’t feel his departure the first time, that was a lie. “Yeah. I hope so,” she said, wondering the future they had forthcoming. 

She looked at her, nodding and taking into account what she was saying. She knew the dangers of mingling with her father, but, after all– she was his daughter. There was no one closer he could taunt, but luckily, he was preoccupied with other things now at his age. “I know, I know. It’s a lot but... so is this,” she said, lifting her arms to rattle her own cords. “I think.. I have a lot of things to think about,” she acknowledged. 

“I’m proud of you, too. You’re the best, coolest, most wonderful cousin– ever,” Penelope told her. “Te quiero, Nora.”

. 

For once, Manuel wasn’t headed to Penelope’s apartment battered and bruised. He was coming off of a job, yes, but not one that had required him to get his hands dirty or his face bloodied. A smile stretched across his lips at his girlfriend’s comments, stepping closer so that he could see her better in the dark, “Ya sure? I’ll give you a discount.” 

He wrapped his arms around her tightly then, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Hey, baby. I was working and wanted to you and I knew you were working late too.” He’d pretty much memorized her schedule by now, wanting to be able to optimize their time together. By now, he was pretty used to showing up unannounced at her place, they had fallen into a bit a of a routine together too. 

He glanced up at the apartment building, “Well, nothin’ seems to be on fire or smoking, so that’s a good sign, right?” Manuel teased, rubbing her back gently as he kept her close, “But we should definitely go inside and check. Mostly because it’s dark and late, but also because of the straightener.” He laughed before asking- tone more serious, “Was your walk alright?” He hated the thought of her having to any distance alone at night like this. 

›››

She let out a huff, shaking her head at him. “A discount? As long as it’s free-99, I’ll buy,” Penelope playfully nudged him. She pushed herself into him, placing a loving kiss on his lips. A small smile appeared across her lips as she listened to him, appreciating his attention to detail. While it seemed like nobody really knew Penelope, Manuel proved otherwise. 

She looked over at him, nodding, “It wasn’t too bad... I saw a rat the size of me, though,” she explained, shivering at the thought of it again. “I’ll never get used to the rats,” Penelope admitted. 

She looked up at the tall building, letting out a long sigh. As much as she wanted to go home, she felt inspired at these hours. It was cliché but it was when her best form of creativity came to life. She grabbed his hand pulling him towards her, “I want to show you something,” she said. “But, I need a to-go drink first. Let’s stop by the corner store.” 

period ╲╲╲  2am after a shift at The Cancún

›››

Penelope’s days were on a rhythmic repetition recently–– wake up, work on her portfolio, leave for her jobs, come home around 3am, count her money and repeat. Ever since she admitted to the universe she wasn’t happy and needed to move on and upwards; she realized she needed to carry her own weight because no one else would. The only upside to it was her father’s luxuries left behind in his absence. His absence wasn’t daunting as before, luckily, a trail of his repentance was left behind this time. She had been fiddling with the idea of opening her own business– the only problem being she had no idea what that entailed. She was lost in her thoughts until the sound of her boots were joined by additional footsteps. Penelope’s first instinct was to ball her fists and put her keys in between her knuckles, wearily turning around to find the suspect: her boyfriend. Of course. “No, thanks, I’m good, I don’t do drugs,” she said, lifting a hand to distance herself. She held onto the joke for a moment until her features broke into a smile spreading across her lips and a laugh escaped her. Penelope skipped up to him, wrapping her arms around him and embracing him. “What are you doing up at these crazy hours?” she questioned, wondering how they ended up in the same place at the same time. “I hope I turned my straightener off...” she said, realizing Manuel wasn’t in her apartment. Oops. 

penelopesantana​:

“I mean, have you seen my girlfriend? You’d always be thirsty too if your girl looked like that.” Manuel teased, flashing a broad smile at Penelope. As he held her, he thought about their fight before this, the way he had suggested they be apart. As he held her, he couldn’t help but think about how ridiculous he was being. His heart had been in the right place, but the thought of being apart from Penelope for even one more second after all of this scared him. They needed on another. Or, at least, Manuel needed her. He had been a fool to believe otherwise.

He nodded, “I want that too. I want our futures to be together. Really ours.” He told her, “No more stupid shit, I promise you. I just wanna start building our life together.” It’s what he wanted more than anything, “Whatever that looks like for us.” 

›››

Her eyes widened as he spoke about her, unfortunately not recognizing the person he spoke about. While she was usually balancing how much clothes is too little, right now, she was grateful to be covered by the thin fabric the hospital provided. She let out a breath of exasperation, shuffling in his arms to get more comfortable. As he spoke about their uncertain future, she pondered in what that meant for them. She didn’t have the best representation of unity and family growing up but she had always wished for stability and comfort. She sought that through their relationship, even after decades. 

Penelope looked up at him, blinking as she realized one thing she was certain about: him. “It means we need to make a choice,” she said. “I want to do the whole damn thing,” Penelope voiced her true desire. “I want to be married, have a place together– maybe become white picket fence people… probably not, maybe get a dog or a cat– I’d be happy either way, be plant parents, and... just all of it. Everything I’ve secretly dreamed of since I was a little girl. That’s what I want. Y’know?” 

A sigh left her lips at Penelope’s teasing, and Nora could argue she had been learning how to separate work and life, but– “Not when I have my baby cousin here,” not when there might be an assassin waiting around the corner. Alright, call her paranoid but she wouldn’t leave anything to chance at this point, not with Penelope’s well-being in question. When Manuel showed up, she’d leave. If tío showed up, she might leave. 

“¡Ay! If he heard you right now, he’d roll his eyes out of his head,” a chuckle. Nora thought for a second there she might let it slide but seeing as she was unable to keep quiet about him, the following had to come out of her: “… He knows a nice massage, a home-cooked meal and a glass of fine rum do the trick for me…” she pressed her lips together to suppress her smile, if anything. As if her flustered cheeks wouldn’t betray her. “And thanks to your boyfriend, I’m here today. The other night, he wouldn’t let me do something really stupid,” 

Her ears perked up as Penelope’s voice became lighter. “¿De verdad?” In response to what she heard, her expression softened. Heart filled with enthusiasm. “First of all,” she lifted a finger in an almost scolding manner. “You are more. And you’ll always be bewitching, too,” a chuckle. “And second,” she left her side for a moment there, to grab a notepad and a pencil– which would make for a nice start. “Tell me more, have you been thinking where you’d like to start? Go back to school, freelance? Get a job, build something from scratch…?” 

›››

Penelope had objections erupting within her, surely wanting to let Nora know she’d be okay, she didn’t have to worry and that she could go home. But, Penelope knew how her cousin was. Penelope was well aware that Nora wouldn’t budge and her protesting would be wasting her breath. A huff escaped her and she shook her head as she listened, “I’ll say it loud and proud for him to hear, maybe, I’ll even shout out it from a speaker phone for effect,” the younger Santana continued. “As long as he knows how to keep you happy…” a discerning Penelope added. Their family was one to especially judge those they chose to bring around, and Penelope couldn’t help her wavering judgments in the moment. 

As Nora mentioned Penelope’s own boyfriend, she couldn’t help but feel her heart swell. Mentions of Manuel were no longer cast by a dark cloud with the pair reuniting in the past year. Penelope’s expression was tainted by her own worry, nodding along as she heard of his strategic moves. “Good– because if you do anything stupid… I will haunt you, Nora Vidal, te le juro,” she swore on her cousin’s life. She pushed herself up to sit properly, pulling loose strands of hair behind her ear as she listened to Nora. This part was the hardest for Penelope. She chewed on her bottom lip, really letting herself immerse into the idea of what she wanted. Penelope had grown up without any sort of parental figure encouraging her along the way, only being pushed to simply survive amongst the streets of the Bronx. She let out a breath and shook her head, stumped at the million ideas she had already thought of. 

“I want to create, make and paint like I used to,” she admitted. “But… what I really want to do is highlight people like me– emerging, independent, self-made artists, those who need a chance. I want to showcase all of the art surrounding us in New York. I was thinking…” she stopped, bewildered at the idea even existing. “I was thinking an art gallery could embody this sort of mission. I know someone who could help… I just need to ask them,” she said. Penelope paused for a moment, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth before she acknowledged who the help was. “Sebastían. He’d do anything to look kitchy en buena hora, right? If he helps me, I’ll technically be helping him,” Penelope now revealing her true intentions with her biological father. “He has the connections. He's in the game. Most importantly, he has the money.” 

“For you? I’d stay still. ‘specially because I know the art would be worth it.” Just like everything else Penelope did. Penelope was always worth it. That was something he knew unequivocally to be true, “Or, ya know, you could just take a reference picture and then I could get up and do whatever I wanted while you worked on the masterpiece. That would probably be for the best, no havin’ to hear me whine about being thirsty and shit.” 

Manuel wrapped his free arm around her as she laid her head on his chest, thumb running across her knuckles, “I know. I love you too. I love you more than anything.” He knew that to be true, “I just wanna do right by you. Always.” He told her. He was just trying to figure out what exactly that would look like. They had so much to figure out. He kissed her forehead repeatedly, closing his eyes, “I dunno what I would’ve done- what I’d do- without you, Pen.” 

›››

Penelope was beginning to believe Manuel after everything that had happened between them. She realized that their time apart wasn’t due to lack of love, but for the best in their growth. Now, 28 years old, she knew that nobody compared to him. He made her believe in real love. “Anyways, I know the recipe to making you sit still,” a finger digging into his chest as she teased him. She wasn’t sure if she had an exact recipe but she knew her boyfriend dozed off with a couple of beers and a movie on. “Is it whining if you’re always thirsty?” she poked fun at him, batting her eyes playfully at him. 

She held his hand as he engulfed her, resting in his arms. She felt that this time for them was different, and everlasting unlike the last. Penelope looked up at him, nodding in agreement to his words. “Let’s do it right this time, then,” she added. “You are my family. You know me better than anybody. I want us to be our own family.”

@lasanta ADDED +1 INSTAGRAM POST.

penelopesantana​:

Can’t get sick from boiled water and pre-packed tea leaves. Her cousin’s wit, even at times like these, managed to coax out a smirk out of her. And Nora couldn’t argue, seemingly, but considering she’d been getting sick from less lately, she gave a somewhat concerned hum in return. The trauma of it all, it must’ve been getting the best of her. “Still, I’ll hook you up with the best spiced tea from the Middle East, and some decent coffee, and your favorite desserts,” anything for her baby cousin. 

“Tell me about it,” she snickered. Fucked-up being an understatement, as fucked-up didn’t even come close to describing how Nora felt whenever she looked at Penelope. Lying battered and bruised in a hospital bed. “My father paid him a visit a few days ago– you’ll never have to worry about him again,” her father, as the former head of security, only held so much power. There was no real guarantee Lucky would stay put for long.

“You can’t,” she agreed, eventually– in Penelope’s case, when it came to her involvement with the Cartel, the Vidal refused to think of it as a road with no return. Penelope was… Not only younger, but she had more vigor. There could be a way out. “Have you been thinking about your future?” A beat. “How do you envision it? What would you like it to be?”

›››

She was grateful for Nora’s empathy towards her. Penelope looked to her like an older sister, or what she’d want from one. She was a shoulder to lean on and even a better one to dance with. Serious situations always seemed to sneak up on the duo, regardless. Penelope wondered if her abuelita manifested Nora’s care and concern for her considering her own child couldn’t give her that. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, squeezing Nora’s wrist. “Don’t worry about me. Do you ever have an end to the work day, Nor?” she questioned her, looking around. “Your boyfriend should be running you a bath sprinkled with gold and a margarita in hand,” Penelope plotted, a small laugh bubbled from her. 

Nora would always prove her love in forms of help, something she depended on greatly during her unfortunate upbringing. Even now, Nora was there to prove blood was thicker than water. Nora was blood, unlike everybody else. Penelope nodded her head, knowing her attempts were good for now. Who knew what would happen tomorrow? “Tell him I owe him a shot of rum– or, a few more,” she offered in gratitude, a genuine smile spread on her lips. 

Her next question caused a pang in her chest. She had been living to survive lately, but now, she had the option to find herself. She was more financially stable than before, and Seb’s recent generosity was providing in wondrous ways. “Yes,” she answered her. “I have been,” her voice perked up. “I want to get back into art,” Penelope admitted to her cousin. “I want to create. I want to sell. I want to be me, again. I’m more than a witch in lingerie holding bottles of Grey Goose,” she said, her own way of convincing herself now. “I have to be more than that.”