the world is alight .

rules & muses.

meme tag.

today was his birthday, though,           and nothing about that was subtle. she had been dreading the day even since before she had turned the next month’s page on the calendar and had to face the date staring her in the face. maría had said nothing, not particularly liking to talk about it with him - or, rather, still not yet knowing how to. she more or less tiptoed around it with tony, preferring to call anita or sit outside under the night sky for a while and talk to the family members who now appeared to her in stars. but today it had become unavoidable; she had been stoic all day, had returned from work with red-rimmed eyes, and always looked a bit distant and distracted, perhaps even a bit dazed. she had insisted on making dinner that night by herself so she could properly meticulously prepare her brother’s favorite, an attempt to pay tribute to him and honor his memory that was at once so close to her heart but also felt so lame and deflating all things considered. there were many emotions within maría associated with her brother, though bubbling to the surface now were guilt and shame and deep sorrow. and the quiet, somber demeanor she had held all day was suddenly crumbling and she was crying in the kitchen, two slow-falling tears that she could no longer hold back despite her strongest efforts escaping and knocking open her floodgates with a force that even her inner fortitude could not withstand. caught, she inhaled and exhaled shaky breaths in an effort to gain her composure, quickly setting down her knife to wipe under her eyes. “necesito un momento,” she answered in a broken whisper, unwilling to face him despite the immediate urge to collapse into his arms and let him envelop her and engulf her small frame. “can you just watch this?” she glanced towards the pot simmering on the stove. “make sure it doesn’t boil over for a minute?”

haley  still  couldn’t  shake  the  feeling  this  whole  night  had  been  a  dream  and  she’d  be  waking  up  in  her  bed  any  second  now:   first  the  pinkerton  game  turned  into  a  scott  brothers  wba  showdown  and  now  her  and  peyton  sawyer  were  bonding  over  her  ex  and  her  captain  cheerleader  best  friend,  no  less?   yeah,  someone  pinch  her,   maybe  the  pot  o’  gold’s  guardian  leprechaun  was  available.   a  huff  escapes  her  nose  as  she  basks  in  the  surrealism  of  the  moment,   before  allowing  herself  to  get  lost  in  it  again  and  forget  all  the  reasons  why  neither  of  them  would  walk  up  to  her  and  say  hi  in  the  school  hallway  tomorrow.    keeping  up  appearances,   sticking  to  the  status  quo,   the  whole  nine  yards.    ❛❛  yeah,  can’t  say  i  can  relate.  ❜❜    the  only  thing  haley  james  was  getting  high  on  these  days  were  her  tutorees’  faces  lighting  up  when  they  understood  something  for  the  first  time  or  successfully  throwing  milk  balloons  at  lucas  up  on  karen’s  cafe’s  roof.   ❛❛  i  don’t  know  her  nearly  as  well  as  i  should  to  be  able  to  judge  her,   so  taking  her  best  friend’s  word  for  it  sounds  good  to  me.  ❜❜    after  all,  if  anyone  came  to  her  with  second  thoughts  about  what  kind  of  person  lucas  was,   they’d  be  fools  not  to  listen  to  what  her  lifelong  best  friend  had  to  say  on  the  matter.   bright  red  tank  full  of  gasoline  swayed  in  her  slightly  faster-paced  steps,   and  there  was  a  quiet,  genuine  curiosity  in  haley’s  voice  as  she  took  the  chance  to  ask,   ❛❛  has  it  always  been  like  this  for  you  two?   y’know,  peyton  and  brooke  against  the  world?  ❜❜

He’s got all three of them accounted for and he’s thinking how quickly he can split and get them safely back to his apartment. He’d kept his family separate from all this, which was a feat in itself in this neighborhood. Being part of the Jets meant he didn’t have to worry about anyone coming for his family.

Riff never asked questions when it came to a fight. Especially when he was restless which was often the case.

He can’t say he isn’t startled when she spoke. her voice was lilting. He hadn’t even seen her or where she drifted off to before she appeared right next to him. he’s about to tell her that’s he’s fine and she should beat it, but that’s before he had to quickly catch one of the glass jars that had been pulled off the counter by one of his siblings. This jostle had woken Mirai who was no set to cry asking in Hindi for her mother.

He wished all those eyes from that sea of pink uniforms weren’t on him and he does the only thing he can in that instant: tell the truth.

“I don’t even know anymore.”

she could feel the eyes of the other girls on her even with her back to them.           their worried gazes were practically radioactive, burning into the back of her head and into her shoulder blades. she didn’t know this boy, of course, only that he was apparently affiliated with the rival gang of native new yorkers, but from the looks of him here in the shop, maría couldn’t imagine him causing much harm. he was surrounded by little children, for starters, but to boot, when she’d approached and spoken to him, he hadn’t looked at her the way most of those other boys typically looked at her and others like her. he seemed almost nervous, which in turn was almost startling in return; she might be able to ruffle some feathers at home with her defiance and headstrong nature, but rarely was she ever found intimidating in any way by anyone else. it almost made her a little uneasy, feeling like she might have some kind of upper hand here in terms of dynamic when it had always been completely the other way around. not that maría would ever act on that, though, and incite any kind of conflict, especially not with kids in the store. 

       ❝ of course. i wouldn’t let a victory go undeclared. ❞ eloise loves her family, she loves that they spend so much time together, but there’s so much about herself that she feels they do not know. her desires, the secret ones that sit locked away in her chest, her true thoughts on the endless circus of the ton, and how she wishes she could run from it all. perhaps she and benedict have never spoken it aloud, but there’s understanding between them, intangible and real all the same. it can be so isolating, to care nothing for seasons or men, to prefer the idea of being an old maid to that of marrying someone she could never love, and eloise doesn’t know how much of that benedict truly understands — if only because it is so much more acceptable for a man to remain unmarried his entire life — but there’s something, isn’t there? they’re alike. it is a relief to be around him once again.

        perhaps she has been waiting for her favourite brother.

        it’s easy to smile, now, to head into the house knowing that she was the one to greet benedict’s long-awaited return. as if hyacinth could ever have beaten her. ❝ oh, please tell me you don’t desire a report on the endless discussions about daphne’s season. i would much rather hear about university. any books i can borrow? ❞

“what, you mean to tell me that the most exciting thing i have missed is planning for daphne’s debut?”           benedict met her eyes with a gaze of both amusement and skepticism. one thing he had missed most while away at university, aside from the general lively and restless atmosphere of their family home, was the similar energy that he and eloise exchanged with one another, always colored with a bit more mischief and conspiracy owing to their closer relationship. all of the siblings loved one another, of course, but there was a mutual understanding between benedict and his most beloved younger sister that set them apart from the others as a pair. while limited in truly comprehending her situation by gender and social flexibility, the particular type of disdain they shared for the ton and its theatrics and expectations was one they alone shared within the family, and as they aged into adolescence and beyond, it had only deepened the already-close relationship they had forged.

His little finger is still linked with her as he watched her expression shift as she listened and could not help but let a ghost of a smile cross his face as she said it back. He never understood why they said it felt like butterflies. he would have said bees. Butterflies wouldn’t have felt like anything- just the light flutter of wings in an empty stomach. It felt like a thousand tiny stings. Bees would fight to get out, would hum and throb against his chest. They would not sit so quietly in the dark cavity that held what he felt. They would burst, and that was exactly what he felt. “ that is polish,” he nodded.

His hand shifted beneath hers as she squeezed it, his palm now facing up to hold hers. This was the stages of holding her hand, the quiet subtle gestures of all the things he couldn’t put into words.

“Anything you would like to say.” he can’t help but grin at that, his face a little red.

it was hard to pick one thing for him to translate.           it had felt so personal and so touching the first time he had spoken, had given her such a bigger glimpse into him, that she felt compelled to ask for it all at once. it made her wish achieving fluency in a day, perhaps minutes, maybe even seconds, was possible. after all, he had already learned some spanish for her, both having prepared something in advance and having picked up on things that she had said and translated at his request. she wanted to be able to do the same for tony, to make him feel as personally connected to her as she felt to him when they were sharing her native language. their love was new, but already felt so deep; maría only wanted to make it more so. she knew so little about his world and where he had come from and how he had been raised, about all of the things that had made him who he was. adoring him as much as she did, she was eager to know everything, to know and understand and memorize him in any way she could. 

Ever since Tony had gotten back from prison, it felt like he was being torn apart. On one hand, he wanted to be unlike who he was before—a new man, one that didn’t fight in rumbles or patrol territory, but one that worked an honest job. It was upon meeting María that he realized that who he wanted to be was someone that she deserved. And he knew, ultimately, that if he were to try to physically stop the fight that was to come that night himself, he never would be. He couldn’t be around the Jets anymore. He had been keeping his distance ever since he made parole, but Riff was trying to drag him back in. While he declined to participate in any of their rumbles so far, he knew that he had encouraged him by maintaining their friendship. He had wanted to still have him around, as he had been his best friend. But tonight, Tony had come to an epiphany—if Riff really cared about him, then he would have understood and stopped pressuring him to rejoin the gang.

That was why he didn’t feel guilt over what he had done. As far as he was concerned, he was doing them all a favor. Sooner or later, somebody was going to end up dead, and Tony wasn’t willing to have that on his conscience. He did hope that Bernardo had made it out before the police arrived. He was María’s brother, and what she had told him today cast him in a completely different light. Riff and the boys had been the aggressors. And as their former leader, Tony felt responsible in a way. When he had started the Jets, they had only gone after other gangs—the Emeralds, the Bishops, the Egyptian Kings. Sometime after he had been arrested, and Riff had assumed his role, the Jets had turned their attention to his friend’s personal vendetta.

He had stopped it, and that was all that mattered. They could sort out the future tomorrow, but tonight there was only María. He beamed as he saw her lean out of the window, and as she offered to take his bag, he unslung it from his shoulder, reaching out to hand it to her. Once he had, he hurriedly climbed up the rest of the way. As soon as he reached her, he drew her into his arms, greeting her with a kiss.  “I missed you.” he stated with a smile. “I hope you like Italian–it’s from this place called Giuseppe’s, a few blocks from the store. Best pasta in New York.”

maría felt immediately at ease upon seeing him.           surely things must be alright; here he was, beaming up at her with dinner slung over his shoulder, quickly scaling the fire escape with excitement at their reunion rather than worry or anxiety over a rumble gone wrong. her heart, once pounding in loud rhythmic thumps beneath her chest, started gently thrumming like the fluttering of a  butterfly’s delicate wings, overcome by a warm, lovesick sensation at the sound of his voice that only intensified at the sight of him. there was a safety in him, in his appearance at her window, one that brought the comfort of conflict avoided and perhaps the beginning of more peace between their two warring worlds. she would ask for the details later, of course, but for now just wanted to relish the glow of his presence and his success, one that she trusted him enough to believe in without even having to ask him yet. not only was he saving everyone from themselves - from undoubtedly inevitable bloodshed or worse, from constant conflict with one another, from exhausting themselves evading the police - but he was saving them. their love would never be able to flourish in that world, where their two slices of it treated each other with so much hatred and vitriol. perhaps tony’s efforts tonight could bring them some acceptance in time. regardless of what might happen, this was a needed first step that she was grateful they were able to take, all thanks to him.

Valentina had always been kind to him, even when he was a kid. Even after that innocence had vanished, replaced by an anger and then resignation, she had seen the best in him. It was more than Tony could say of himself. When he had gotten out on parole, he hadn’t known what he was going to do. It was critical that he found a job, but he doubted anyone would have wanted to hire him with his record. Had Valentina not offered him this job, he probably would have either joined the Army or found his way back to the Jets. This was better than both alternatives, and he could never thank her enough. For the first time in years, Tony felt that he really had a future, a chance to make something of himself. He had been proud to have gotten his GED while he was still in prison, but the possibility of going beyond that hadn’t been something within reach until he started working at the drugstore. He could become a pharmacist, as long as he kept at it. “Right.” he agreed, following her gaze to the window. It was doubtful that they would do anything before the snowfall stopped. “No, not at all.” he answered with a smile, and there was truth in it. “I was gonna make us some tea if they fixed the power.” he explained. After a moment, he added, “But I am worried about Riff. I’m just hoping he didn’t end up back at his uncle’s.”

        “yeah — yeah, of course we can.”  tessie would have   made the same suggestion herself had he not said it first.  she guides him to the stools by the counter wordlessly, allowing him a few more seconds of rest as she just gazed at him.  baby john looked like he was ready to collapse if he had to stand a moment longer; having to recount everything that happened earlier in the night probably wasn’t helping, but tessie had to know.  out of all the boys, aside from maybe tony, he was the only one she trusted to tell her the whole story without possibly being biased.  she doubts any of them could be bothered enough to twist the story if they wanted to, though.  two boys were dead either way and there was nothing anyone could do to bring them back.  there was blood on all their hands — maybe even on hers and velma’s and grazi’s, for letting the rumble continue when they all thought it was a stupid idea.

not much their previous sentiments could do now.  even telling that to the cops would just have them end up with some charge or other, but it wasn’t going to be quite as severe as what baby john and the rest of the boys could be facing.  “i don’t want you to go to jail, baby john.”  her voice is low and quiet, eyes cast down to the hands on her lap.  for the selfish reason that she didn’t want to lose a friend, as she was bound to lose many after that night, and simply because he didn’t deserve it.  unfortunately, that wasn’t for her to decide.  tessie had never been religious, but she was silently praying to all gods and saints now that worse wouldn’t come to worst, even if she felt like it would.  “if they take you in…”  when they take you in, she really means to say,  “what will you tell them?”  she’s looking at him now, eyes glossy with unshed tears.  tessie wished she could shake away the horrible feeling that this could be the last time she’d be seeing him freely.

he sank down onto the stool at her guidance,           needing it to get in motion once again; he was unable to completely shake the near catatonic state he’d been in before tessie had gotten there. while some of the boys were active in their grief or worry or fear ( or all of the above ), pacing the floors and running their mouths and trying to get to tony in the basement, baby john had done little else but stand there, half-listening to everyone around him, replaying what had happened over and over again and feeling it churn his stomach and chill his bones once again. he was feeling every emotion as intensely as everyone else, but he differed in the way it just paralyzed him. even now he was distracted by thoughts of riff and bernardo just lying there on the floor, of how he was going to be able to live with himself for just leaving them there, if he was ever going to be able to.

“nothing would make me happier,”           he affirmed wholeheartedly, his little grin and his gentle tone both warm with sincerity. “i will admit that the french have quite a way with chocolate,” laurie conceded, nudging the box open with his index finger, which he then used to scan over the candies inside to make his selection. “however,” he lifted one out, but kept it lifted before his still-grinning lips, waiting for her to pick one herself so they could enjoy them at the same time, “i enjoyed none of them with you, which makes these ones far superior already.”

When María spoke, expressing her hopes that one day his mother would call him by his given name again, he smiled. It was a wonderful thought, however remote a possibility. Things would be different soon—that was what he always told himself, because it was the only way he could keep moving on. He had made a horrible decision, a decision he had paid for with years of his life. And he knew that his father would be ashamed, were he still living. He liked to think that he never would have been at that rumble, if his father were still around. And in all likelihood, he wouldn’t have. He probably would have never even started the Jets. Maybe he would have finished high school like he was supposed to, played football, gone to college. There were so many maybes, but Tony couldn’t dwell on them. “Maruca?” he repeated, his smile widening. “That’s adorable.” He hesitated, squeezing her hand back gently. “Are they…back in Puerto Rico?” he asked gingerly, realizing how little he knew about her and her family. At her question, he replied, “A few weeks ago, I wrote her a letter. Told her about how the job was going and how I was thinking about studying for my entrance exams—I wanna go to college and pharmacy school. The last time I saw her was actually a few days ago. I was making a delivery for the pharmacy and I saw her while I was walking. We didn’t talk or anything but I waved to her…she did wave back.” She had been in a hurry, probably on her way to work. But Tony did see it as a good sign that she acknowledged him at all, instead of shunning him like she had done in the past. “I felt like if I ever tried to go home, I’d be intruding—but I want to see her. I want to talk with her about everything that’s happened.” He missed her, and he knew that things would never be the way they had been, but he still wanted her to be in his life. He only had one mother, and she only had one son. “I just don’t know what she’d say.” he added, running his free hand through his hair.