Chapter Text
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Sheila E groggily shifted on her side. “Ugh... Squalo... what do you want?” She somewhat clumsily reached for the phone in the pitch-black darkness. She answered and tried to speak in her best “I'm totally not pissed at you” voice.
“What’s up, Squalo? It’s kind of... late.” She glanced over to her alarm clock. 4:37 A.M. Squalo answered... he sounded as tired as Sheila felt. “Sorry, kiddo. I know it’s really late. But uh...” She stifled laughter as she heard Tiziano falling out of bed in the background. “Boss said we have to go pick up his daughter. She’s been living alone in an apartment in Calabria for quite a few months. Heard she’s the same age as you.” His voice got higher at the last sentence. “As if this is going to be a goddamn playdate...” thought Sheila.
“I’ll be here by 5:00. See you!” Squalo beamed. Sheila hung up with a click. Sheila sighed as she crawled out of bed... and slipped on something in the dark. “God-” She got back up with a huff.
+ + +
She flicked the light switch, and the kitchen flickered with an eerie pale blue light. She suddenly felt a strange sense of unease. She tried to shake off her uneasy and groggy feeling as she wandered towards the fridge. She rummaged through the fridge with ferocity. “Let’s see...” She said to herself. In her still sleep-clouded sight, she spied a slightly beaten up carton of eggs. “I know you don’t like it when I cook Squalo... but girl’s gotta eat.”
The eggs were pretty average, even with her usual heaping of salt and pepper. Sheila glanced at the stove clock. 4:50 A.M. As if on cue, Sheila immediately felt bored.
+ + +
Sheila was snapped out of her boredom as she heard the screeching of car wheels. “Squalo!” Sheila practically jumped out from her seat to the ceiling. She hastily scavenged her belongings as she raced to the front door. Sheila and Squalo hugged each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Tiziano rolled his eyes, but smiled sweetly nonetheless. “I exist too, She-she.” Sheila smiled awkwardly, embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, right.” She ran up and squeezed Tiziano tightly.
Squalo opened the car door with so much gusto Sheila was certain that he'd almost broken it off. “Hop right in, little lady.” Sheila gave a crooked smile as she slid into the back seat. The engine rumbled like an angry, yet sick dog, sputtering before it let out a cacophony. “You’re lucky it started, Squalo honey.” Tiziano mumbled.
“You two are a bunch of lovebirds.” Sheila jumped up and down in her seat, writhing with adrenaline. She certainly wasn’t tired now. “Seatbelt.” Tiziano said bluntly. “Oh, oops.” Sheila fumbled with the seatbelt until she heard it click.
+ + +
The car bumped along the coarse sand-dirt road, causing Sheila to snap out of her slumber. “We’re here already?” She said groggily, stretching her arms. “Yep.” Squalo was the first to leave the car. He raised his hand to his brow to get a good view of his surroundings. The dusty brown of the buildings was illuminated by the early-morning sunrise, cascading a blanket of sunshine over the beachside. The sparkling sand was washed daintily by the calm, sapphire-colored waves. To Squalo, it looked absolutely beautiful.
“Honey, we really should get going!” Tiziano called, crawling his way out of the car. “Aw... you’re no fun!” Squalo chuckled, walking ahead of the two others casually. “Now where’d you say this apartment was again?”
+ + +
Sheila skipped ahead of Squalo and Tiziano. “Are you sure she’s even awake by now?” She questioned, staring at the calm deadness of the streets. “It’ll be 7:00 in a few. Most people are up by then.” Tiziano stated, catching up to her.
“Have you forgotten it’s Saturday? Who’s up on at 7:00 on a Saturday? Weirdos, that’s who.” Sheila gestured with her fist. “That’s funny coming from a 15-year old gangster.” Squalo ruffled Sheila’s raven-black hair, with Sheila swatting away his hands in response.
+ + +
Trish looked solemnly outside her window, staring at the cars coming to and fro out of the parking lot. It was the usual sights as always; couples holding hands, lovey-dovey as they skipped out of their apartments, old women walking their yapping little doggies, and two strange young men chatting with an even stranger looking teenager... wait what was that last one? Trish craned her neck to get a better look at the group.
There was one with bright red hair and a bright smile to match, pointing enthusiastically at her apartment.
There was a man with long, silver hair that reminded Trish of ocean waves, holding a map and wandering around the parking lot, looking slightly confused.
Then there was a teenage girl with black hair in long braids, streaked with purple. She had loose clothing that swayed as she walked. Trish thought to pay them no mind and get back to lunch, when she saw the teenage girl look up at her apartment window and glare coldly at her. She hastily hid behind the window. Trish remembered something.
+ + +
Trish remembered what her mother had repeated constantly on her death bed. “They’re coming.” She would cough out, her face pale as a ghost and sticky with hot sweat. Though she felt that it was simply just her fading, sickly mind making her ramble out nonsense, she always had a twinge of anxiety hearing that. That small feeling of fear was being amplified by 100x right now. She felt guilty for not asking who “they” were.
+ + +
Sheila gingerly climbed up the steps, glancing at the doors of apartments as she walked past them. Squalo and Tiziano were not too far behind. “I saw some girl staring at us outside her window. Think it’s her?” Sheila piped up, feeling up the metal railing, warm from the heat of the afternoon sun.
“Could be anyone. What was the apartment number again, Tiziano?” Squalo yawned loudly, slightly stumbling as he hopped up the steps. “304. Also, watch your step.” As soon as Tiziano could finish his sentence, Squalo tripped on a worn-out step and fell backwards with a loud thump. Sheila cracked up, slapping her knee with uproarus laughter. Tiziano carefully helped Squalo up, but not without a giggle.
“It’s not funny guys, stop laughing! I seriously could’ve cracked my skull open!”
+ + +
Trish was startled by the sound of a knock on her door. She contemplated either ignoring it and hoping they went away, or answering and possibly getting kidnapped and/or murdered by the strange group she was sure were the ones who were knocking.
She figured they may be more agreeable if she just went with the second option quickly.
Sure enough, she was greeted by the group. They had oddly placid smiles for what Trish thought were her would-be murderers. The teenage girl with the flowing braids shoved her way into Trish’s kitchen, and she started to rummage around in the cupboards. “Hey! Stop touching my stuff! Who even are you?!” Trish tried to put her in a headlock, but she failed miserably as the other girl shoved her to the ground.
“Play nice, girls.” Tiziano stated, making his way into Trish’s apartment as well. “I’m Tiziano, and this is Squalo.” The young man pointed towards the red-haired man who was still standing in the doorway, smiling awkwardly. “And the girl who just kicked your ass is Sheila.” Squalo said matter-of-factly.
“Thanks, Squalo. Anyway, we were sent by your father, who wished to remain anonymous, to bring you to him.” Tiziano said, trying to smile sweetly at the young, pink-haired girl who was probably scared out of her wits.
“W-wait... my dad? I don’t even know him.” Trish’s mother only told her small bits and pieces about her father. She had always told her she had hair like her fathers, and how he always had a piercing cold gaze coming from his pink eyes, and an equally cold look on his face. She thought of her father as a stern, uncaring man from what she had heard.
“Not right this second, you know! We’ll be looking after you in the meantime.” Tiziano snapped Trish out of her introspective state, and it made her feel a bit better. “If you need anything, ask us.” Tiziano said as he slinked out of the room.