As Mika sat on the stoop of the Gonzalez front porch, he watched cars with mismatching sections of paint and one to two cars without rims pass the house and members of the Serpents acknowledged Mika with a nod with a somewhat content expression on his face. He was out there for the past thirty minutes, just ten more than when Natalia Belmonte left.

And for those thirty minutes, he had been staring almost aimlessly, deep in thought, deep in a stasis that seemed to be only enhanced every time he found himself drifting into his own mind.

Mika wasn’t the type to let himself think about the past too much. It wasn’t as though he was immune to it, but regrets rarely played a factor into who Mika was. One might say he was like Dominic Torretto in that way as he truly embodied the philosophy of living life from point A to point b. One might say this was due to the nature of the Southside life and the life that Mikhail Zima had known as long as he could remember.

Mika stood up and took a few steps away from the stoop he spent the past half hour sitting on. As he got up, his ass felt numb from being mostly still for so long, so he had to walk it off. He pushed the gate that surrounded the front yard and it made a creaking noise when he pushed it open. He walked towards the left and heard it naturally crash against the latch. The echo it made grew fainter the further Mika was from the house.

He went only to the corner and just stood there, hands in his pockets. In one pocket, he felt his keys and moved them around to pass the immediate time; in the other was his phone. After a few moments, he pulled his phone out. Seeing the time only reminded him of where everyone probably was right now.

And that made Honey Badger slightly ticked off.

Why care about the past like that? Mika thought it was stupid. Mika thought that being so caught up in whatever secrets may or may come out was idiotic. Knowing what people hid wouldn’t bring back the dead and it wouldn’t remove the guilt some felt for that damn shooting. And it sure as hell wouldn’t bring back Kai’s brother nor anyone else who suffered.

Yeah, Mika was now in a bad mood.

“Goddamn it all!” He cursed and made his way back to the house, though he wouldn't go back inside.

As he hopped into his Tacoma and it roared down the street, Mika blared whatever was on his preferred rock station. He blared it so loud that the custom bass-heavy speakers vibrated in and out of his truck. He took chances with the lights; speeding past yellow to red lights, green lights to yellow, and so on and so forth. In doing so, he not only made it out of Fear Grota territory without anyone actually knowing that Big Rey Gonzalez’s adopted son had done what nobody dared to with Heisenberg, Mika took the chance because it was the quickest way to get to the Northside.

Honey Badger really didn’t care.

In the back of his mind he was counting his blessings. The fact remained that it could have gone terribly horrid for him. Even if he had his 9mm in his glove box and a rifle in his trunk (covered up by a blanket of course), it was still a risk some might call not worth the reward.

Mika drove down Main Street at a controlled speed, no longer needing the urgent speeding one might find on abandoned backroads by street racers. Or from one adrenaline junkie who favored risk over controlled substances. As he did so, the late night that blessed Edenridge’s marketplace with minimal citizen presence made it apparent that the stench that fear and paranoia brought from that cursed shooting and its anniversary.

Perhaps that wasn’t the majority opinion, but it was Mika’s interpretation of it, stemming from his own personal feelings about the tragedy.

God, how he hated weakness in the people he shared this town with.

That selective disgust carried Mika into a blind drive down main and only would come to a stop when he pulled in front of the old stomping ground. He had parked across the street and mulled over just exactly what he should do. There was an undoubtedly large presence of people he knew, including Natalia. Just about everyone he knew was in there and he contemplated going inside. He contemplated indulging in this wild goose chase of trying to find out the culprit behind the letters.

But the longer he sat there in his truck, looking at the parking lot and centering his gaze at the main gymnasium, the less it became about wanting to know what happened and more about he became justified in his opinion that everyone was still trapped in the past. Nothing good came from being involved in the events of the past.

Cementing his resolve, though he wouldn’t drive off immediately, Mika would look at his phone. Scrolling through a few apps, Mika contracted his resolve and found himself on a page. And he saw a geotagged location.

How surreal it was. He rarely went on Instagram and thus his activity was practically nonexistent post-high school, so of course, those he followed and those who followed him remained the same. It allowed him to occasionally check up on people that might not be on good terms with.And because of this, there was one person he wronged that, no matter how hard he tried, Mika just couldn’t forget about her.

“Boston Logan International Airport,” he muttered.

That wasn’t very far from where he was.

As he spent a couple of minutes contemplating, something that Mika has been doing frequently in recent weeks, his mind was made up when he started up his truck.

How contradictory was it of him to shame those who clung to the ghost of Charlie Decker, yet Mika is doing the very same with someone he claimed not to care about. He always wondered what could’ve happened if he didn’t choose the coward’s way out? He could even hear their voice when he decided to not return their feelings.

Or rather, when he lied to their face.

He still didn’t know if he would return them, but in the year that’s passed, Mika’s changed...somewhat. He still has those demons that like to come to the surface sometimes. It’s a constant struggle, but he’s better than he was a year ago.

As he continued to drive down the I-90, those thoughts kept persisting, so Mika blocked them out to the sounds of Machine Head. This is the End proved to be an almost biblical soundtrack for what was undoubtedly a mistake in the making, but he didn’t care. Mika knew what he was doing even if everything in him that from a year ago was telling him to turn back.

He took the nearest exit that led him down a road. He took a left and circled around the terminals. There were four and, honestly, Mika was having an internal struggle about whether or not he should do this. It wasn’t so late that he couldn’t go back home and forget any of this happened. It wasn't as though anyone of importance saw him. And by circling around, which at this point he’s done so twice, he was wasting gas. If anything was going to make his decision, it would have to be something so glaringly obvious that he couldn’t just ignore it.

Glancing at his phone and coming to a stop across the way from Terminal C, Mika just waited.

I shouldn’t be here, he thought as he didn’t budge.

In an evening where Mikhail had spent the majority of it mulling over how everyone he knew was still stuck in the past, here he was waiting for a sign from his. He needed to know that he was doing the right thing.

Soon, he learned God had impeccable timing.

Coming through the entrance, hands interlocked, there he saw Caitlin Cleary. She was as sexy as he remembered. But she wasn’t alone. As he gripped the leather covering of his steering wheel, Mika gritted his jealous teeth when he saw who she was with. IT didn’t matter to him that she was happy.

“Niles Sinclair…” Mika cursed his name into oblivion, curses that his father taught him. He cursed it with green envy as they kissed, the grip on his steering wheel getting so tight that parts of the covering ripped.

Mika would follow them wherever they went. Tonight would not be a celebration for anyone.

For the past few months since he had come to live with his godfather, Mika had felt out of place for obvious reasons. The feeling of abandonment from his father was still fresh in his mind. Being sent off to live with a family that, while they weren't unfamiliar to him and he could say that he felt safe with them, they weren't his family - not really, anyway. The Gonzalez's were their own and as much as Mika had wanted to treat it as if he had lived with them his whole life, he didn't belong here.

He wanted to be back in New York living in the house he grew up in. He wanted to be back in New York hanging out with the friends he made. It didn't matter to him that they were children of mobsters. They were his семья - his family.

And maybe that's why he was fucking miserable at this party.

It had been nearly an hour and the most interaction that Mika had was forced conversation with some hyperactive idiots from Pinehurst who confused him for one of their friends. He was trying not to explode on people, but between their annoying excitement and his shorter-than-usual fuse, he felt like a bomb that could go off at any moment.

Mika was leaning against the wall, the hood part of his sweatshirt jacket over his head and he watched as the idiots from Pinehurst made fools of themselves with the fools from Edenridge. He watched almost every inch of the main party floor as a few games were starting. Between beer pong, a makeshift spin the bottle circle, and a few others, Mika rolled his eyes at all of them.

Nearby, there was another one of them trying to get started and he overheard someone mention Seven Minutes In Heaven. “Well that’s fucking stupid,” he commented. He thought he spoke quietly but he couldn’t help but notice the stare of a girl. She looked Italian or maybe she was Spanish? She was pretty hot, though.

For someone who wanted to attend the party of the semester so badly, Natalia Belmonte was having a good time. After her many failed attempts to convince her best friend Niles Sinclair to partake in this experience with her, Tal had opted for tagging along with the girls of the volleyball team. So far, she’d had a drink, chatted with her girlfriends and even danced along to a few songs. But a good time wasn’t the same as having an amazing, memorable night, which was what the Belmonte girl was looking for.

During one of her dancing breaks, the dark-haired girl noticed a boy standing against the wall, jacket hood up and the tell-tale expression of someone who didn’t really want to be there painted all over his handsome face. The displeased attitude he was giving off reminded Nat of Niles, and how he would be acting if he were here. She was internally debating on whether she should when the unknown boy turned to look at her. And as soon as they locked eyes for the first time, Nat knew that she’d found her partner in crime for the night.

Just then, the group of Edenridge students around them began to call out for anyone interested in playing Seven Minutes in Heaven: the perfect opportunity to make the first move in getting to know this moody guy. Without wasting any time after the announcement was made, the daring Belmonte girl stepped forward and raised her hand.

“We’ll go first!” Natalia confidently called out to the upperclassmen, grabbing the arm of the sullen young man next to her and pulling him towards her with surprising strength. Her declaration was met with wolf-whistling and jeers from the older kids, but the unfazed Talia simply shrugged her shoulders and continued to stand tall and confident, her pale, slender arm still paired with that of the nameless boy.

When his arm was tugged on, there was a moment before most of the force from this girl who had abnormal strength tried to pull him in a direction she wanted him to go that he looked at her. Up close he could tell that she wasn’t like most of these idiots, but he wasn’t budging. She might’ve been strong and if he were in any other mood that wasn’t fuckall, he might’ve even gone with her willingly, but the fact of the matter was that HB just didn’t feel like complying.

So, naturally, he asserted his own strength by forcing a stalemate between them. He shook off her hold of him and said, “Sorry, but I’ll pass. Whatever this is--” Mika gestured to the circlejerk of upperclassmen looking at them with partially-invested gazes, “--I’m not interested.”

Any regular girl would’ve been put off and even mortified by the way the nameless boy had shot them down in front of a small crowd of older (and probably more popular) kids of both Edenridge and Pinehurst students. Natalia, however, was not like most girls. She was strong, determined and fierce: and if she wanted something, she was getting that something.

So instead of waving the white flag of surrender, she smirked at the dark-haired teen and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t remember asking whether you were interested or not. I am telling you that we are taking the first turn of this game.”

Consider Mika unamused by this little show of dramatics.

Between the way she was unyielding in this...stubborn-like quality she seemed to possess and Mika’s impatience feeling like a pot of near-boiling water ready to burst, the desire for him to play a stupid game that he had virtually zero interest in playing was mindboggling to him. He didn’t even want to be here for reasons he knew she wouldn’t understand, let alone accept (he knew her type well), Mika knew he had to do something that’d send the message clear.

“And I’m telling--”

“Is it happening or what?” Connor, one of the upperclassmen asked, tapping his hands on a nearby table. There was an expression of impatience on his face, partly quelled by the glare Natalia shot his way.

And there were a few more people who chimed in, or at least Mika assumed because he blocked them out as he inhaled a few deep breaths. Anything outside his head became mostly muted. This feeling of frustration was familiar because his mother and sisters were the same way: strong-willed and stubborn as all hell.

And so was he to an extent.

And so was this bitch in front of him who refused to budge.

“Chert voz'mi,” Mika cursed under a breath in his father’s tongue. He glared at the brunette and shrugged the smallest shrug he could. “Whatever, i’ll play your stupid game.”

The dark-haired girl's green eyes came alight, and her face broke in a triumphant grin. Of course she had gotten her way: she was a Belmonte, after all. Her daddy had taught her to never stop fighting for what she truly wanted in life, be it a small or big victory.

With that grin still in place, Natalia grabbed the boy's arm (albeit a lot less forceful this time) and dragged him to the rather large linen closet where the game was to take place, making sure to close and lock the door behind them. But once they were both face to face inside the closet, the Belmonte girl’s expression softened significantly.

“Are you okay?" the girl asked earnestly, her brows furrowing a little with concern. She knew she was probably prying too much considering the way this whole interaction had started, but how else was she supposed to know how to lighten up the boy’s mood? “I'm sorry if I was a bit much out there, but you looked like you weren't having too much fun, and I figured this could be a good way to start," she began, extending her hand out to him. “I'm Natalia Belmonte, king jock Danilo's prettier, smarter and older twin. What's your name?"

He contemplated smacking her hand away. With how Natalia acted towards him, if he was truly feeling like the asshole he was struggling to keep caged up, Mika would do exactly that and not calm down. But as his Godfather had tried to grill into his head in recent weeks, holding onto anger, when not rightly channeled, will swell up his cojones. And considering they were locked inside this closet for the next seven minutes, maybe he could entertain it.

This was what Mika has been wanting: a space to get the fuck away from the madness of the party.

With a smile, he shook her hand (albeit quickly). “Mika,” he said after a few moments of silence. Part of him wanted to not hide his name. Why hide that he was a Zima? But he just couldn’t. As proud as he was, Mika was still livid at his father for sending him away and he sure as hell wasn’t going to expose himself as an O’Hara yet. “My name’s Mika Gonzalez.” Saying it out loud to someone who wasn’t actually part of the Gonzalez family felt strange, yet a small smile curled itself on his face as if proud of the way it flowed off his tongue.

The mention of the famous (or infamous, depending who you asked) last name earned this Mika boy a questioning expression from Natalia. “Gonzalez as in related to Big Rey Gonzalez?” she asked him, curiosity getting the better of her. She was born and raised in Edenridge, and had not once heard about the existence of this Mika Gonzalez boy standing in front of her. “I didn’t know he had a white kid…” she absentmindedly muttered under her breath.

“I know, right?” Mika contained the urge to laugh as he leaned back against the wall behind him. “Here I was, living peacefully in Brooklyn and then suddenly I’m shipped off to live in this shithole with my Mexican papi--” He paused and laughed again when he realized he just insulted her hometown, “--No offense.”

Natalia pursed her lips together, biting back a laugh of her own when she heard Mika refer to the big bad Rey Gonzalez as his ‘Mexican papi’. For as long as she could remember, the name of the former Southside Serpents boss was one that incited fear and respect, and a trip to the ER or an early grave for those who mocked it. If this kid was willing to joke around with Big Rey’s name like this, then it meant that he truly was related to him somehow.

As for the dig at Edenridge, Nat only shrugged. “I mean, I’d be pretty pissed too if I was forced to leave somewhere as diverse as Brooklyn to move here,” she admitted with another small shrug. “Don’t get me wrong: I love my hometown to death. But we both know there’s a whole world of possibilities outside of this small town, and I plan to take advantage of them when I’m ready.”

“Not the reaction I was expecting,” Mika admitted with another laugh. But she was right, though. He was pissed that he couldn’t stay living in New York. Hell, he knew Katie and Stacy were probably just as peeved as he was, though maybe they couldn’t understand the gravity of the situation. Even Mika didn’t have all of the facts.

Mika shook his thoughts about that away and refocused on the here and now. “The worst part is this town doesn’t have much to offer, but I guess it’s cool to know my...father is some hot shot.” God, that felt weird saying. Even if he was embellishing the truth a bit, the fact was that Rey was the closest thing Mika had to a father since his real one wasn’t around. “And I guess the south side has a certain charm to it, too.” He wasn’t lying about that and the half-smirk on his face showed that.

The last two comments piqued Natalia’s interest, and gave her even more questions. She didn’t miss the way Mika hesitated when calling Big Rey his father, or how he smirked when saying that, of all places, the south side of town was ‘charming’. “The southside? Charming? Our southside? You’re definitely an outtatowner…” Talia commented. Even though she had never set foot anywhere beyond the train tracks that separated her beloved northside from the south, the stories had been enough to paint an unflattering and unappealing picture of the unexplored side of town.

“Wow, you’re really observant!” Mika’s reply came with a chuckle as he stepped away from the wall. “You should be a detective.” He let the comment sink in as looked at Natalia, who rolled her eyes at him. He did his best not to do a complete head to toe onceover of her, but he did let his eyes wander. “But yes, I’m from out of town. Only been here for four months. Maybe my experience with this town isn't what yours is, but it’s not bad. Or maybe it’s the fact I’m living with the boss that gives me a bit of an advantage.” Mika shrugged, not really caring what the reason was. “And what about you? From the way you talk about it and...carry yourself--” Unlike last time, Mika definitely did the full up and down of Nat, “--You’re obviously not from the Southside.”

Natalia grinned at Mika. “Look at you, making correct assumptions about me based on my looks! I guess that means you can be my detective partner now,” the girl joked with a sly smirk, followed by a cheeky laugh. “I’ve lived in the northside of town my whole life. My four older sisters moved here when they were kids, but Danny, Mira and I were born and raised here. My parents own the fancy Italian restaurant in town, Palermo, and my oldest sister owns The Godmother deli down in Main Street. Best sandwiches in town-- in a non-biased way.”

“Not biased, she says,” Mika laughed, cracking an amused smirk, which Natalia answered with a smile of her own. “Sure, I’ll just take your word for it. But that Godmother Deli?” Mika could only laugh at the name. “Yeah, I know it. Probably the only place I know that makes a classic reuben almost as good as my Mamushka used to.”

“I'll make sure to pass the compliments along to my sister. She's going to freak. She's a slut for compliments," Talia replied with a small laugh.

There were a few moments of silence before Mika pieced together something and he couldn’t resist from commenting on it. “Also I have to admit, I didn’t peg you for Italian when I first saw you.”

“Oh yeah? And what did you think I was?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow and a curious smile.

“Spanish,” Mika admitted without missing a beat.

“Spanish?" Nat repeated in disbelief, searching Mika's eyes for any signs that he was pulling her chain and bursting out in a fit of laughter when she realized he wasn't. “Sweetheart, I'm out here looking like Snow White's prettier sister. I have a better chance of being Scottish or Irish than I do of being Spanish."

Mika laughed, stepping forward. He grabbed a nearby hanger and held it vertically, positioning it under his chin as if it was a microphone, and looked Natalia in the eyes as he said, “Ladies and gentleman of the closet, we present Detective Whitey, who is in fact not Spanish!” After he spoke, he imitated the cheering uproar one might hear from a stadium audience. He emphasized it by repeatedly raising his hands as he stepped a little closer to Natalia, lessening the gap between them.

After her new wave of laughter had passed, Natalia playfully grabbed the 'microphone' from Mika's hand and positioned it under her own chin, imitating her fellow closet-dweller in both stance and speech. “And with me we have fellow Detective Milky, who is the whitest fucking Mexican I have everrrrrrrr known!" she declared in between giggles, holding onto Mika's shoulders for support and unable to keep a straight face as she said her line.

The laughter from both was palpable but that wasn’t what seemed to catch Mika’s attention. It wasn’t even the fact she called him Milky, which that alone might’ve been something that would’ve most definitely made him die of laughter. No, it was the fact she was so close to him that he could smell something fruity or whatever that scent was; it was soothing, almost completely quelling any residual anger he was still latching onto from earlier. And it was also the fact she was close to him and her hands on his shoulder, this closeness allowed him to properly look into her eyes for the first time, those green eyes that even made someone like him start to feel things.

Goddamn it…

He took control of himself and slightly shook his head.

taptaptap

The knocks that came immediately snapped Mika out of whatever fucking daze he was locked in and his gaze darted quickly to the door. “The fuck?” He seemed to ask himself, though he looked to Natalia to see if she could shed some light. His experience with Seven Minutes in Heaven was practically nonexistent. Even as a concept, he didn’t know the ins and outs of it.

The knocks on the door helped Natalia's fit come to an end, albeit not fully. She was still somewhat laughing when she answered Mika's bewildered reaction. “Looks like our time is coming up," Nat announced, taking her hands away from Mika's shoulders and looking him straight in the eyes. “We've got a little over a minute left here, Chief. What's the plan?"

“You tell me,” Mika remarked, “you’re the one who started this.”

And it was true. Even though he wasn’t regretting it because, obviously, she was a lot cooler than he first gave her credit for, but Mika wasn’t exactly a seasoned veteren when it came to this or any party games. That just wasn’t his speed. Since Natalia was the one who dragged him into it. “From where I’m standing--” Mika emphasized by pointing to the ground like the smartass he was, “--since you started it, you should tell me the game plan. I mean, it’s only right, Snow White.” Though he absolutely wanted her to do that, he found himself taking her hand. Part of his mind knew what he wanted but the rest of him wasn’t sure if that was a two-way street.

Natalia wasn’t exactly well versed in the art of flirting, nor did she have the experience her older sisters or her brother had. But she wasn’t clueless enough not to realize that Mika was definitely flirting with her. Tal knew how to read people, and she could notice the signs that the dark-haired boy standing in front of her was interested in her.

And you know what? She was sorta, kinda interested in him too.

Smiling, Natalia took Mika’s other hand in hers, never once taking her eyes off him. “Would you be cool with hanging around the party with me for the rest of the night?” the girl asked him, her bold demeanor turning uncharacteristically shy as she realized how good the young man standing in front of her looked under the dim light coming from underneath the door illuminating his broad figure. “You said you were new here, so I want to make sure you have a good time-- even if you think Edenridge is a shithole,” she teased with a small laugh.

Mika laughed at her last comment. "Yeah and I doubt my opinion will change, but even shitholes have hidden gems."

Mika started to rub Natalia's hand, running his thumb along it in a slow motion. Even though time was limited in the closet, it seemed to slow down, or at least that's how it felt. He had no doubt that his earlier feeling of uncertainty about whether or not she might've felt the spark that he did no longer held a place between them. Mika also knew he wanted to see what she had to offer. He might be young -- hell, they both were -- but that didn't mean he didn't have some idea of what he wanted, even if it was the hormonal desires of a teenager.

"Sure, why not? If I'm gonna be forced to be at this party, might as well kick it with the only other cool bitch here."

“I guess we got ourselves a plan, then,” Natalia replied with a small smile, tearing her eyes away from Mika while being thankful he couldn’t see the way heat rose to her pink-tinted cheeks.

He didn’t say anything, not at first, anyway. He watched her for a few moments, seeing her look away for some reason and then he thought to himself wonder why she did that? And thinking about it, didn’t he do similar things just a minute ago? Yeah, he did and that was because he thought whatever fucking spark he felt wasn’t mutual. But she didn’t pull away when he made a gesture, so why the hell was Nat darting away from his direct gaze?

God, girls are confusing.

“So, uh--”

Before Mika could finish his thought, he was silenced by the door opening, which prompted both him and Natalia to turn and face the group of juniors and seniors looking at them. Some of them had half-smirks and others were chuckling to themselves. Mika felt like a deer in headlights when he saw one of the older girls whisper something to her girlfriend (at least that’s what Mika thought she was). He saw Connor, the senior from before who had spoken up look between him and Natalia. Mika was partially blushing being in the spotlight.

And that’s when Connor’s grin fell into something that resembled disappointment.

“For shame, my man! For shame!” Connor dipped his head and shoulders down in a dramatic fashion, turning around. “They didn’t do anything!” He exclaimed, which judging from the way he spoke to the rest of them, they believed him.

Great.

Whether it was the pressure of having all eyes on him or just to get this asswipe to shut the fuck up, Mika quickly turned to Natalia and kissed her. And the act alone stopped the collective disappointing moans from the older kids, but it was how Mika kissed her that seemed to draw some attention. He pushed her back into the wall and for a few long moments, there was nothing but the kiss.

And after Mika realized how long it was, he pulled away, feeling his heart tha-thump tha-thump so hard that he had to breathe in and out deeply to relax it. “I-” He looked at Nat, not sure what to say, and then glared at Connor. “Happy?”

He didn’t say anything and Mika’s gaze returned to Natalia, unsure what he could really say. This wasn’t his first kiss, but it certainly felt like it was the first one he had some control over, which he found funny since it came as a response of having control taken away from him.

Meanwhile, Natalia was awestruck and on cloud nine: it showed all over her wide eyes and half-open lips. Before today, she had only ever kissed one boy in her life, and the kisses they’d exchanged had a hesitant, explorative, gentle nature to them. But Mika’s kiss, however, was worlds different from the others she’d had. It was heated, passionate and with an intensity she hadn’t experienced before. There was no denying there was a spark between them, but there was also no dismissing the pang of guilt on Tal’s stomach when she thought of Niles.

Before she could go down that rabbit hole, Natalia brought herself back to reality. Without allowing a chance for stupid Connor to respond, the dark-haired girl grabbed Mika’s hand and gently tugged on his shoulder, jerking her head in the direction of the rest of the party.

“Come on, detective. Let’s go have some fun at this shithole that’s your new home now.”

For the longest time, Marco -- and the rest of his family on both sides -- have always been avid fans of sports of all kinds. It didn’t matter if it was baseball, American football, real football, cricket, gymnastic, professional wrestling, if it could be perceived as a sport and it brought out that competitive nature in both player and fan, the odds of the Castillo and Brady clans gathering around the flat screen to cheer and boo and yell and groan were high.

And even though he was the only Castillo-Brady at the Pinehurst-Edenridge game, this couldn’t be any truer than the sounds of Marco standing up, cheering for the Celtics after they took an incredible lead of sixty points. Francis Callahan was amazing and an amazing shot, but he wouldn’t be the one MArco kept his eyes on.

For nearly the entirety of the game (at least when he wasn’t entertaining some people near him who wanted to chat during breaks), Marco found himself feeling the team spirit - or as Robin from Young justice would say, feeling the aster.

(Feeling the aster is good.)

And feel it he did. That euphoric feeling Marco felt crawl up his spine and the blood rushing to his head when he stood up as his arms went up high every time he saw #27 Belmonte scored either via assist or managed to get the shot himself. And every time that happened, when it was done, Marco felt his entire body go hot like a spark under his ass went off every time that he saw Danny Belmonte look his way. He knew he wasn’t actually looking at him, but for a moment, their eyes did meet. And maybe it was the high Marco felt himself under the influence of, but he waved.

It had been at that moment that he smiled and it was also at that moment that he realized that while Danny Belmonte had caught his eye, Marco’s waving managed to catch the attention of one of the Pinehurst Cheerleaders.

When the game came to a close and Marco panicked his way into trying to figure out how he was going to escape before, well a certain strawberry blonde cheerleader found him, it was too late. The girl who he would later find out was a Sophomore at Pinehurst named Theresa O’Connor, had practically invited him to a party that most of her squad were going. Marco didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t want to be rude, either, so he sort of just went along with it.

And Tessa, which was what she told him to call her, was cute. So, in the back of his mind he was flattered that she liked him but, as Marco sat on the couch at this party at a southside house and TEssa was somewhere, likely being pulled away from him by her squad, Marco just sat there in a daze. He thought about how this happened. And thinking about that led Marco spending several minutes looking over at a group of jocks.

Danny was with them.

And he was being tipped upside down.

“7!” The boys surrounding Danny loudly roared.

In all that was holy, Danny’s shirt flew over his face and Marco saw what could only be described as something that would bless his dreams for the entire week that followed. He wasn’t toned like the rest of them, but Danny was the only one that caught Marco Brady’s gawking gaze and the only reason why Marco’s entire face went hot and red like a roasted tomato.

“8!”

“Keep calm, keep calm.” Marco repeated to himself, speaking as low as he could. Thankfully the music playing didn’t make it too obvious that he was gazing at Danny as if Marco even stood a chance. He wasn’t out and he didn’t even know if Danny swung that way. So it was hardly something that Marco should be doing, yet he couldn’t help it.

“9!”

Okay, Danny. Man up or go home.

Having used his arm and body strength, Danny found himself doing a handstand on the keg stand, with two of his teammates holding him up and another one of his teammates releasing the valve, letting the beer stream into the freshman’s mouth. This would be the second time Danny’s tried this within his first semester of high school and boy, he needed to beat his last record because any respectable man would get to at least thirty.

“10!”

Then again, his peers knew he was the youngest and thankfully, most didn’t pressure him to go beyond what he could handle. He didn’t drink as much as his twin, even at home. Still, Danny was stubborn and had no idea what his limits were! Plus, he wanted to be cool and show off. If not for himself, perhaps to get Francis’ attention… wherever he was. Last party, he could only do 10 seconds before choking. The team had a good laugh and taught him a few techniques after. Let’s see if he can put them in good use and get to twenty.

“11!”

With a red cup in her hand, Kylee Grimm shimmied to the EDM music, moving through the crowd. From a distance she saw her history nextdoor desk neighbor sitting on a couch and staring at… oh, the big doof in her spanish class. Danilo Belmonte. Probably on a high from the big win tonight. Sure, Francis Callaghan carried the team, like he usually did, but honestly, Danny kept up with his seniors, which impressed her, even scoring more than most of them. She was sure it impressed others too, like it clearly impressed Marco Castillo-Brady.

“12!”

Conveniently, the spot next to Marco opened and she slid herself on the chair right into him, playfully and mischievously bumping into his side, “You like what you see!” The mayor’s daughter loudly spoke over the music. While that should’ve been a question, it wasn’t because when Marco turned his attention to her, her dark gaze fell to his pants which revealed how interested he was in the italian basketball player. “I get it. Give him another year or so and he’s gonna be HOT, HOT, HOT! You should talk to him!”

“13!”

“What?”

Marco’s body jerked itself in a startled fashion when he heard a girl’s voice. Turning around, he saw it was Kylee Grimm. He had her in social studies. He couldn’t say that they were exceptionally close, but he has talked to her a few times and they even had a small project at the start of the semester, so Marco was almost used to her, but he was in such a daze watching Danny excelling at...whatever he was excelling at that he wasn’t ready for her.

Against his better judgement, Marco partially turned away from Danny. “Oh, hey Kylee,” he said after a few seconds of gathering himself. “I don’t think that will be a good idea,” he admitted, half-frowning at the girl. “Besides, I’m..fine right where I am.”

“Are you?” While her hazel eyes scrutinized, Kylee watched Marco in pity. Taking a sip of her drink, her gaze went from him to the basketball team. Their counting and drunk roaring turned into background noise as she continued to visually explore the party. For a moment, her dark gaze rested on the big wrestler senior, Rhett, overseeing the drinking game in silence. He was a dreamboat and so nice to look at. And yet, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little intimidated by him.

Shaking the hopeful thoughts out of her head, she continued examining the area and finding anything that intrigued her. Turning her head to the makeshift dance floor, she saw a boy she had a music elective with, Pierce Mercer. He glanced over at her, through the hustle and bustle of the party, and she returned his stare with a smile.

He was cute, she liked cute.

Bringing her attention back to her couch buddy, she dramatically sighed, annoyed at how lackluster he was acting at the party of the year. “Want some advice from me, Marc?” That was a rhetorical question. “I’ve lived here for like a little over three years and meeting people is a hardcore bitch. I’m still considered an outsider even if my dad was born and raised here. But that’s beside the point!” This girl was loquacious to say the least, but she meant well. “One thing I decided the moment my dad was like pack your bags, we’re leaving Boston, was: I’m not going to be a bystander. Especially not at an Allison Davies’ party. Neither should you!”

As meddlesome as Kylee can be, she still cared about people in her own fucked up kind of way. She simply was using the tools her parents gave her to figure shit out as she went. She was persistent and demanding but she was also incredibly lonely. Thankfully, shortly after her move, she met Roddy and that helped her maneuver through adolescence. “You want to know something? Do your own research. You want that something? Go get it. You clearly seem interested in Danny boy. Stop sitting there with that hard on and think about carpe diem or some shit! What’s the worst that can happen?”

Marco’s embarrassment took central stage when he had a slight shade of red on his pale cheeks. So much so that he shifted his position on the couch somewhat to cross his legs in a way that hid what Kylee just pointed out. “What makes you think I’m even interested in him?” Marco asked. He wasn’t out and, while he didn’t peg Kylee as the homophobic type, he didn’t want to risk anything. “Maybe I’m just aroused by the--”

He looked around in a panic as if trying to find something very close to where Danny was that could explain it.

“--the keg. I mean it’s very…”

Dang it, Marco was looking at Danny again.

“...Sturdy.”

“Mmm, yeah. Sturdy.” Playfully, Kylee rolled her eyes and decided for Marco’s sake to use the keg as an analogy. “Just look how it shines. Such a nice looking keg. Why wouldn’t you be interested? I wonder if that beer has been imported. From Italy or something. Such fine beer.” Her smile went into a wide grin, now completely curious about Marco's reaction. “Don’t you just want to suck the tap yourself.”

“I-”

Marco’s cheeks went from strawberry to full on cherry red and he stumbled on whatever words he was going to say. He shook his head in an attempt to gather himself, trying to completely rid himself of the mental image that Kylee seemed to imply. It wasn’t the implication itself that made his embarrassment meter crack but just the fact she was pushing for something that he wasn’t even sure he was ready for. Marco was never great at approaching anyone that, for a lack of better words, interested him. Whether that was a girl or otherwise, he was always hesitant because he’d get lost in his own head before he’d ever consider a scenario that they wouldn’t immediately recoil from him making a move.

It’s why he was content in just looking at Danny do jock things from a distance and it’s why he felt especially awkward and tense as Kylee pushed and pushed.

With a sigh, he let a few moments of silence pass before he had to force his gaze away from Danny. “I’ve got no interest in doing that.” Part of that was the truth but only because Marco didn’t even know what he felt whenever he kept looking back at Danny. Jesus, how many times did that make it now? Five since Kylee started talking to him?

Garret “Rhett” Cleary, Caitlin Cleary’s older brother, and good friends with Francis Callaghan was quick to interject when he could tell that the freshman boy was exceeding his limits. When they reached 17 count, he grabbed ahold of the smaller kid, pulling the tap away from his lips. Danny started coughing profusely as he hung on Cece's brother’s shoulder. He didn’t even remember becoming upright. Everything happened so fast but the next thing he knew, Rhett was giving the basketball team a lecture about pressuring children.

Everything was dizzy and he was trying to register how far he went in the drinking game, if he made it to 20, but the next thing he knew Rhett had handed him a glass of water and told him to eat some bread. “Wait, Rhett, where’s Cece?” He hadn’t seen his best friend all day… which was weird now that he was thinking about it.

“Caught a ride with some friends.” Rhett firmly responded, visibly exhausted with all the babysitting he was doing for one night. The older boy said a couple of other things but Danny was too busy staring at Rhett’s wrestler muscles to really listen.

Did he pick me up?

Reality was feeling like a dream, maybe he did drink too much.

“Okay, okay! Sorry I overstepped but like, you could at least talk to him. To get to know him. I don’t understand the stigma of cliques. This town is small, so I feel like…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed the devil himself was making his way to them. Sure, he didn’t look like he was walking straight, but he was beaming, his smile reaching from ear to ear, and had an energetic bounce to his step. Completely caught off guard, Kylee muttered, “Uh…”

“Is this seat taken!?” The young jock slurred. Kylee looked between her and Marco, sitting on a loveseat. There was no extra seat, unless he meant the armrests. Or did he want? Seeing him staring at her, Kylee tilted her head, thinking she got the memo.

Oh, okay.

“I was… just getting up.” Turning to Marco, Kylee showed her teeth in excitement but also confusion. She wasn’t going to ruin this moment for him, so all she did was give him a thumbs up for good luck and got off the seat, going to her next objective: Pierce.

“Perfect. Awesome.” Danny slumped beside Marco and stared at the ceiling, watching the world spin. “Do you know why people like drinking so much? It’s so weird. It makes the world go round, and round, and round.”

thathumpthathumpthathump

Marco’s heartbeat was going especially fast. Hell, it became alarmed when Danny had spoke and caught Marco by surprise, but when Kylee excused herself and Danny took her spot (albeit plopping rather than sitting down) and all he could think about was how close Danny Belmonte was to him. The person Marco had spent most of the night watching was next to him and talking about drinking and what it was like.

“Y-yeah.” He didn’t know what to say in all honesty. He never got drunk, or at least in the way that Danny apparently was. And this was, like, the first impression that Danny was going to have of him. He had to do better than just a stuttering “yeah”. “Great job today!” Marco said with a wide smile. “At the game, I mean! You did great!” Oh, god he sounded like such a kissass right now.

“Francis was greater! You saw how many shots he made?!” With basketball being mentioned, Danny perked up and turned to the boy beside him. He looked familiar… like they had a class together or something. Or maybe he saw him in his sister’s shop? Regardless. Basketball! “I wanted to DUNK but Jillian said there’s other cool things I could do and that I still got a few more inches to grow. UGH! I want to dunk so badly.”

He blinked a few times at Danny. Out of all the scenarios that Marco entertained in some of his more far-fetched scenarios that might happen if he ever had the stones to talk to Danny, him just going on about basketball and Marco just sitting there listening wasn’t even close to the top ten. And Jillian? Was he talking about Jillian O’Brien? Had to be. Or maybe he wasn’t. Marco didn’t trust his brain right now. “You’ll get there, I’m sure of it!” Marco found himself cheering for some reason.

“I hope so.” Danny leaned back into the sofa and slumped even more than he had already, sliding down the chair a bit. Like a toddler, he grumbled, “I’m sad!”

“Why are you sad?” Marco asked, watching Danny slide down in disbelief.

With his ass on the floor now, he laid his head back on the chair and looked up at Marco, grumbling, “I saw something.” He saw Francis kissing Russ, who was not Allison. “It made me feel… funny.” He didn’t know why nor did he understand but he felt funny. Honestly, while she didn’t deserve it, Danny didn’t like Allison and at times wished she’d disappear. She had Francis and she was perfect in every single way. All his girlfriends, like Jillian and Cece, adored her.

Still, at this moment, he found himself hating Russ even more than her and he didn’t understand why. Not only did his image of Francis become less perfect, because he was cheating on his girlfriend, but he felt a tint of jealousy which didn’t make sense at all. Why was he jealous? “I don’t understand people.” Or he didn’t understand himself.

As Marco looked at Danny, he did so in a different way than he had all night. His gaze didn’t have any lust or anything of the like behind it, because Danny was acting differently too. The tone of his voice was different too. It was low and almost melancholy. He wanted so badly to comfort Danny in some way, but there was no way for Marco to know how a gesture like that might be interpreted. He couldn’t handle any possible rejection, so he had to think of another way to maybe cheer Danny up.

But what?

After a few moments of thinking, Marco had a lightbulb go off in his head. “I get it. People are hard to figure out. I mean, Professor Xavier doesn’t know what kind of person his students will be when they accept his offer to leave their home to join his school. I mean, look at Wolverine. He resisted and resisted, but eventually joined up. Everyone thought he was a prick. And maybe he was, but he proved himself when he became comfortable enough.” Marco realized that he was exposing himself to potential ridicule by talking about this stuff, but he didn’t see any other way to help Danny without saying “hey you’re hot, let’s have sex” and Marco Brady would never do that. “Like, I don’t know if this applies to what you’re going through and, I don’t know I should probably shut up now, but--”

“X-Men reference?” Danny dumbly blinked, his drunk self trying to connect what Marco said to his situation.

Before they could take their conversation any further, Reyrey came stomping down the stairs, having such a colorful language as he went through the living room, to the kitchen, and out the backdoor. All the while kicking everyone out of his house. Danny’s mom would be so disappointed if he ever cussed like that.

As everyone else rushed around, trying not to get in the serpent's way, the Italian boy pulled out his phone to the Belmonte sibling group thread. Vivia had quickly texted, can’t bring the twins home. Natalia had responded she had already left. Mira would likely ignore it. His other sisters were all mothers and he didn’t want to bother them, even if Cat did message asking if he needed a ride. With a little struggle, Danny texted back: I have ride. thx.

He didn’t but he didn’t have time to think about that right now. Shoving his phone back in his pants pocket, he sluggishly picked himself back up and looked at his new... friend? “Do you want to… walk together?” He knew if he walked home by himself he was likely going to pass out somewhere and get hyperthermia. Yeah, he wasn’t here to break his mom’s heart. He also wasn’t here to worry his siblings. So, asking his new friend was the next best thing!

Alerted by the raging Reyrey who came in ceasing all party activities, effective immediately, Marco did his best to focus on Danny and he was probably as stunned by what he asked as he was by the Serpent boss. He knew he should say something. His Ma didn’t raise a Wolverine-type prick. “Sure! I just..uh, need to get my coat.”