Chapter Text
Luckily the dishes didn’t take too long. It was only three plates and three mugs after all.
As he was walking out of the kitchen, he almost collided with Avrille. In the time he had washed the dishes, she had tied her strawberry hair into a messy bun and did some makeup. Her head perked up as Stone skidded to a stop, looking up at her.
“Hey Stone! Are you ready to head out?” Avrille asked, giving him a smile.
“Uh…” Stone hesitated, racking his brain as he tried to remember if everything was in order. Then he realized that he was still in his sleepwear, something he was surprised his parents and Avrille didn’t point out. “Can I change first?”
“Oh yeah, of course!” Avrille said. “I’ll be waiting in the living room!”
The two split off in separate directions, with Stone taking a route to the stairs that avoided the living room all together. Not only was it out of the way, it was also quicker. He was surprised that Avrille never considered taking his route. Did she even know about it? He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. After all, she was someone who enjoyed the company of people, who could weave through the living room with ease even if it was filled to the brim with party goers. He was not like that in the slightest.
He climbed the towering staircase, taking some time to breathe after finally reaching the top. Once he recovered, he continued on to his room. He opened the door, taking his sweet time as he walked. It’s not like he was in a rush, after all.
Opening his closet, he sifted through the millions of hangers. Most of his clothes were black and white, with a few grey and navy blue hues scattered here and there. Most of them had barely been worn, with others being brand new.
He pulled out a black turtleneck and some black dress pants. He changed into them with little to no effort, sliding on some black dress shoes and white socks. He combed through his hair again, making sure it remained unknotted after changing.
Afterward, he descended downstairs once more, which thankfully took less effort than scaling them. There to greet him in the living room was Avrille, sitting right below the portrait. While she never lost her curiosity and hyperness, she did lose her warmth. Her smile was now sly and calculating, always knowing what to say and when to say it.
“Is that all you’re going to wear?” She asked, pointing at him.
“Yeah. We’re just running errands, right?” He pointed out. “It’s not like it’s one of dad’s business meetings or one of mam’s parties.”
Avrille gave an awkward laugh, fidgeting with one of the frills on her dress. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I am a bit overdressed for this!”
Stone shrugged. “I mean, I don’t care. You have your fashion sense and I have mine.”
She stood up, cane in hand, and walked over to the door. “Are you ready to go?” She changed the subject.
“I guess,” Stone replied. He opened the door and the two set out for the city.
Luckily, Ramshackle was walking distance from their house. No more than five minutes away, which he speculated was a choice his dad had made.
Especially since the first store they passed when they entered the city was theirs.
Bradley’s Jewelers. Ramshackle’s greatest and only jewelry store.
Stone couldn’t help but peek inside the windows. He saw diamonds glint, emeralds shine, and gold and silver rings scattered all over the store. The cheapest one he could make out from his spot was a silver band, all for the small price of $4,999.99. What a deal.
“Stone!” Avrille called. She was already a few blocks ahead of him, probably just noticing his absence. “Come on!”
Stone glanced one last time at his future shop, then caught up to Avrille with ease. She was saying something to him, but he couldn’t make it out as they headed into the busier part of the city.
Ramshackle was loud. Incredibly loud. Wheels screeched, people laughed, and he swore he heard someone getting beat up in an alleyway. Hell, maybe he heard gunshots as well, or maybe it was bumbling drunks crashing into dumpsters. Either way, he wouldn’t be surprised.
Not only was it loud, it was also bright. Advertising was found on every corner. Whether it was for that stupid pageant (Ramshackle’s Next Top Sweetheart, was it? He swore he heard his parents talk about it one time) or for a stupidly overpriced movie that was just another stupid forbidden romance between a man and a woman that probably ended with everything being alright and the two living happily ever after. He even saw a rendition of Romeo and Juliet that did not seem faithful to the original at all. Stone had a feeling that Shakespeare was rolling in his grave, maybe even bashing his head against his coffin. Either way, it made Stone want to strangle the director for massacring English literature and the person who made the advertisement for making it so damn bright.
When his sister told him they had ten errands to run, all of which spaced out around the city, he wanted to cry.
Ten errands? Spread across the city? Stone brooded. I wouldn’t have come along if I knew that!
But there was no getting out of this now. He was in the city with Avrille, and the only way he was going to get out was finishing these errands as fast as he could.
First stop: fashion boutique. Avrille wanted to buy some more clothes (as if she didn’t have enough already), and urged him to do the same. He did not, and instead chose to wait for her outside with the excuse of “I couldn’t find anything I liked.” She called him picky and they continued on.
Second stop: a candy store. He heard Avrille go on a rant that her candy was going to be better, so much better than shitty suckers that scraps would beg for. Stone couldn’t help but buy one of these “shitty suckers” just to see what her fuss was about. It was actually pretty good, one of the better cherry-flavored candies he had tasted.
“Alright,” Avrille said after they had exited the candy store. She wrote something down on her notepad, then crossed something out. She looked back to the clock inside the candy store, and her eyes widened. “Oh shoot! It’s about lunchtime! Time sure does fly!” She observed, tapping her cane.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” he replied, biting back the urge to comment on how long she took back at the fashion boutique.
“Well, where do you wanna go?” She asked, still incredibly fidgety.
Stone spat out the sucker stick on the ground. He wasn’t sure if he was hungry, especially after his journey through the deafening city. “I don’t care,” was all he could say.
“Do you ever care?” Avrille shot back. He sighed, not wanting to start a full blown argument on the sidewalk.
“Look, you can choose the restaurant. I don’t give a shit,” he responded.
Avrille’s face morphed into a smile as she bumped his shoulder with her cane, clearly trying to change the mood to be more lighthearted. “Watch your fucking language, Stone!” She giggled.
Stone couldn’t help but smile as well, even if he was still a bit pissed. She had a way of manipulating the mood of a conversation. He gave her a light punch in the arm. “Watch YOUR fucking language, Avrille!”
“You know, if mam were here, she’d be on arses!” Avrille said through laughs. She cleared her throat, and put on another that was mockingly high-pitched. “Avrille, that’s not how a young lady acts! If you want to be a business woman, you shouldn’t be throwing around vile words like that!”
Stone laughed as well, trying his best to mimic Avrille’s pitch despite his deep voice. “That’s not very gentlemanly of you, Stone! No son of mine will be saying vulgar language as if he’s a scrap!”
The two burst out laughing. They probably looked insane, but neither cared. Those that judged them could go fuck themselves.
Avrille caught her breath, wiping a tear from her right eye. “We should run errands together more often! We’d get more opportunities to do stuff like this,” she suggested.
“Yeah, maybe we should,” Stone replied, a wide grin still on his face.
“You know, I heard that there’s an Italian restaurant that just opened in the town square! The entirety of Ramshackle loves it, and I wanna see what the fuss is about!” She changed the subject. “What do you think?”
Stone shrugged. At least he liked Italian cuisine. “I don’t see why not.”
“Great! Let’s go!” She exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him along before he could protest. Despite her limp, she was still incredibly fast, to the point that he was having trouble keeping up even though he was the one being dragged along. However, she slowed when they reached the plaza, she slowed.
Stone was about to ask, until he heard why she stopped. Music was playing. Not from a radio or TV, but from an actual instrument, a string instrument to be exact. Each note that was plucked rang across the plaza, reverberating off of the building and into his ears. He swore he heard a voice as well, singing so tenderly and so smooth that it could make any songbird envious.
“Huh, there must be a show going on in the plaza. I didn’t hear about any performance though,” Avrille commented, suspicion creeping onto her face.
“Well, you wanna go see what it’s about?” He suggested.
“Sure,” She replied as the two crept closer.
Whatever this performance was, it had garnered a crowd. Many people were packed densely into the plaza, whispering to each other. Stone hated weaving through the crowd, but at least he got more information from hearing people’s comments.
“Woah, this has got to be one of the best performances in Ramshackle’s history!”
“How can he play like that! He doesn’t look that rich!”
“Someone put this kid on Ramshackle’s Got Talent!”
“What a shame this kid will never make it big. Folk indie alternative doesn’t hit the charts anymore!”
Finally, Avrille and Stone had weaved their way to the front of the crowd, and…
Oh.
It was a ginger-haired scrap playing a mandolin on the plaza fountain.
Suddenly, the music didn’t sound as angelic as it had before.
The music was still good, and he could tell the boy had been playing for years. It took time for him to get where he was now. It was just the idea that his skill was going to waste as he got high on the streets.
Avrille looked appalled. “A scrap!?” She gave a huff. “Shouldn’t he have been kicked out of the plaza by now?”
Stone nodded. “Maybe he’s one of those charmers. He even looks the part!”
Avrille grinned. “Well, two can play at that game. Stay here Stone, I’ll deal with this rat!” She strode to the very front, pushing people out of the way with her cane. Stone looked on as she stood right in front of the fountain and cleared her throat.
Everything went silent. People had stopped murmuring, the boy had frozen in place, looking down at Avrille.
The boy, despite how shaky he was, spoke first, a tremble in his voice. “Uhm… is there anything I can help you with ma’am?”
“Yes, actually. I would really appreciate it if you stopped playing that lute of yours. It’s really-”
Avrille was cut off by the scrap. “It’s actually a mandolin! They’re in the same family, but they’re different instruments! Like how-”
“Mandolin, lute! Same difference!” She snapped, making the scrap almost back into the fountain. “Now, as I was saying, I have a really bad headache and your performance is making it even worse. It’s like you don’t even know HOW to play it!” She snickered as the whole crowd joined in. Stone heard shouts of agreement, and even saw some people storming up and taking their money out of a red beanie.
“O-oh. I’m sorry ma’am! I’ll stop!” The scrap was about to hop off the fountain, when another rushed over to him. A girl with messy brown hair and an outfit that looked to be stolen from a pirate movie with a five dollar budget.
“Hey, don’t talk to him like that! His music is much better than the soulless shit you guys play on the radio! He puts his blood, sweat and tears into his songs, while you lootbags write lyrics about your cars and money in order to get the high of fame!” She shouted.
The crowd let out a gasp, as they started murmuring to each other once more.
“Oh, you think the pink-haired girl’s gonna take that?”
“Trust me, she won’t. I was hit by her cane once. She’s nasty!”
“Hey, isn’t that the scrap that pickpocketed you last week?”
“Mhm. She also bit me. Hard. She’s a rabid animal.”
Avrille groaned, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, not another one! Look,” She bent down, making eye contact with the second scrap. “I know how much you’re jealous of our life, but that doesn’t mean you should take it out on us. So go scram back to your little alleyway you rats!”
The second scrap spat in Avrille’s face. “You can’t tell me what to do just because you’re rich!”
Then, Avrille swung her cane, slamming it into the second scrap’s face. She was knocked down, hitting her head against the fountain’s base.
“Vinnie!” The boy shouted. He raised his mandolin like a baseball bat, until she put up her hand, standing up with a bloodied nose.
“Skipp, take the money and run! I’ll handle her!” She ordered, wiping away the crimson stream rushing down her face. He gave a nod and took the beanie as she rushed for Avrille, fist balled up and ready to punch. The crowd cheered, but Stone screamed.
“Avrille!” He ran out of the mass of people, and over to the sidewalk. He grabbed an empty bottle, most likely one that was once filled with whiskey, and smashed against the wall. It split into two, with the bottom shattering into billions of shiny shards. He felt a few dig into his hand, but he didn’t care. Even if it was stupid and a way a drunk scrap would fight, it was the best option he had.
He continued on, and almost collided into Skipp. The scrap had slid to a stop, beanie in his hands.
Just from looking at him, Stone felt all his rage from the day pulse through him as he gripped the broken whiskey bottle tighter. “You!” He pointed the bottle right at him, approaching him with a scowl on his face. “You were the one that started this! If you hadn’t been playing your stupid folk music for drug money, my sister and I would’ve been able to continue our day in peace!”
The ginger scrap backed away, shaking. “I-I wasn’t doing anything wrong! I just wanted to try a way of making money without-”
Stone grabbed the scrap by his curly hair. “Bullshit!” He shouted, ready to swing the bottle against his face.
Then he got a good look at the scrap’s face. Teary eyes, a baby’s face, and chattering teeth. Not worth wasting his only fragile weapon on.
He threw the boy down on the ground, still glaring down at him. “I suggest you take my sister’s advice and scurry back to the alley you came from. I doubt you would be any help to your friend, anyway.”
The boy stared at him for a moment, his breathing shallow and fast.
“I said GO!” Stone shouted once more, pointing the broken bottle at him again. That was enough to send him running. By five seconds, he was nowhere to be found.
Stone sighed, and looked back over by the fountain. The two were now scuffling on the ground, with Vinnie’s teeth buried into Avrille’s arm and Avrille’s hand tugging at Vinnie’s hair. Stone dashed for the two, but was blocked by a man waving around a bundle of dollars. He tried to approach from a different angle, but was once again blocked by a group of girls, cheering for his sister to beat the scrap’s ass.
Damnit! Stone gritted his teeth, scanning the mass of people for any path to the fight. The plaza was too packed, people crammed together around the front of the fountain.
Wait. It was just the front that had the crowd.
Stone shot towards the back of the fountain, whiskey bottle clenched tightly in his right hand. His dress shoes were probably getting scuffed, but he didn’t care. He needed to help out his sister. He had more dress shoes, after all.
He hopped up onto the fountain, and he could already feel eyes on him. He shrugged it off as he slowly walked, the broken bottle raised in his hands. He paused, waiting for a moment where that scrap was exposed.
He saw Avrille take a kick to the chest, knocking her down. Stone suppressed a cry as Avrille shook on the ground, the crowd silent and watching in suspense. The scrap stood over her, ready to throw another punch.
He tried to run forward, but his limbs refused. He was paralyzed, frozen in time, watching the scene unfold. He felt more stares digging into him, expecting him to be the savior of the story, the one that did his society and family justice.
But he couldn’t, he couldn’t do it, and that was the worst part. What would his mam think? His dad? Would Avrille hate him because he only stared as she got beaten? Or would she be mad because he disobeyed her orders? What about those scraps? Would they get off scot free because he didn’t take the swing? Or would the one he screamed at knock sense into the other, therefore rendering his plan useless?
Everything was becoming so much, and that made him even more frozen.
Then, Avrille knocked the scrap off her feet with her good leg, and the back of the scrap’s head crashed into the cement. This was his perfect opportunity and he was wasting it. He was throwing it away all because of his stupid brain. Why did he do shit like this? Why did he break down everytime the world became too much?
Why didn’t he just go back to his room and forget the rest of the world like he used to?
The scrap lifted her head, and saw him. He didn’t know how he looked even slightly threatening, with a broken whiskey bottle held up by a trembling body, but somehow she got the hint and ran off.
However, she didn’t leave empty-handed. She carried a mahogany cane under her left arm.
Avrille’s cane.