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Callie discovered Marie’s awful habit first.
It was inevitable, really. They lived together, in the same cramped two-bedroom apartment they’d moved into when they first came to the city, and the close quarters didn’t provide a whole lot of privacy. Marie could tell when Callie was burning a candle in her room regardless if the door was closed or not and could hear when she was watching her shitty reality shows – it was hard to hide anything.
It wasn’t a surprise, then, when Callie first confronted her about it. Marie never smoked inside, absolutely not, but she’d step out onto the apartment balcony with her pack of cigarettes and smoke out there. She thought she’d been considerate enough bringing a bottle of perfume with her to mask the smell afterwards, but she realized that it clearly wasn’t enough when the sliding door opened and Callie joined her on the balcony.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” she said as soon as she stepped out, like she’d been waiting a while for the perfect moment to ask her about it. There was no confrontation in her voice, no anger or judgment, but Marie still felt her cheeks warm with shame. She could hear the worry in her sister’s voice, the silent why? that she was asking.
Marie shrugged. “Better than other stuff I could be doing,” she said. She prematurely put out her cigarette and squashed it down in her now empty cigarette pack. A part of her brain protested at wasting the last of her supply, but she felt too much shame to keep it lit while Callie was watching. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “Sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be able to smell it.”
She turned to watch as Callie stepped over to join her in leaning against the railing. The concern on her face was too much for Marie, and she returned her gaze out to the sky instead. “It’s kinda hard to hide, y’know,” Callie pointed out. “You know that’s, like, really awful for you, right?”
“Yeah. I know.” Marie didn’t make any effort to defend herself. After all, it was impossible. Smoking was really awful for her, and she wasn’t stupid enough to try and deny it. “It’s pretty bad.”
She could feel Callie’s gaze on her still, and it made her skin crawl uncomfortably. Once again she cleared her throat, picked up the empty cigarette box, and turned to face her. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I won’t do it anymore.”
Callie lifted a brow. “Just like that?” she said. “Wow, I didn’t even have to bring out the waterworks or anything.”
She managed a chuckle at that. “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”
(Marie didn’t know why she said that. It was obvious to both of them that she wasn’t intending on stopping in the slightest, especially when she came home later that night from errands smelling freshly like cigarette smoke. Callie didn’t say anything, but she could feel her disappointment even after she went into her bedroom for the night.)
-
Surprisingly enough, Pearl was upset when she found out.
Marie didn’t know why, but she’d pinned Pearl down as a smoker. Something about the way she carried herself and her past as a death metal singer led her to believe she was familiar with cigarettes (and maybe more than that, too). So it was a thorough shock when, during a get-together with Off the Hook at the Houzuki mansion, Pearl nearly blew a fuse when Marie grabbed her cigarettes and lighter from her purse and said she was going to step outside for a few minutes.
“Uh, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said as Marie stood up. The anger in her voice was hardly concealed, and the confrontation was enough to shock Marie into silence for a few seconds, and almost enough for her to put her cigarettes back in her purse and sit back down.
“...taking a quick break?” she eventually said, once she was able to find her words again. Callie and Marina, both huddled over Marina’s laptop and formerly fawning over pictures of Judd, stayed silent but looked up. “Is there a problem?”
Pearl snorted. “Yeah, look what you got in your hands.” Dumbly, Marie looked down, even though she knew what Pearl was referring to. “Seriously. What’s up with that?”
“It’s just…” Marie stuttered over her words for a few seconds. How did you respond to that? “I dunno. It’s nothing.”
“If that’s what you wanna call slowly killing yourself, sure.” Pearl shook her head, and suddenly Marie felt defensive. Callie’s concern was a soft, gentle disappointment she could handle - Pearl was all big feelings and unrestraint, and even though she was her best friend, Marie didn’t know if she could tolerate it from her. “Did you miss the part in school where they told us not to smoke the little cancer sticks?”
“It’s none of your business,” Marie muttered. She knew Pearl only spoke out of concern, but she was a Houzuki, and she wasn’t exactly known for her ability to keep her thoughts to herself. She was outspoken, and no amount of excuses or justification would get her to accept it and shut her mouth.
“Are you d-”
“Pearl.” Marina’s gentle yet stern voice interrupted her. “Let’s drop it for now.”
Marina had the special power of shutting Pearl up – almost instantly, she crossed her arms and relaxed back into the sofa, but she still kept her judgemental gaze harsh on Marie so she could feel all the strong words she was holding back. Marie turned to give Marina a grateful nod, but when she looked over, she was met with Marina and Callie whispering to each other and pointedly avoiding her gaze. She knew it was about her, and suddenly the pack in her hand felt too heavy to stand still much longer.
“I’ll be just a few minutes,” she announced, and then promptly slipped out the back door.
(She didn’t even smoke, which only served to further irritate her, but the shame was too strong for her to think about it. All she did was fiddle with a cigarette between her forefinger and thumb, letting the itch of holding one be relieved, and then stuffed it back in the pack.)
-
In the same way it was surprising that Pearl was upset when she discovered, it was surprising that Three wasn’t.
Marie didn’t think she’d ever find out. She didn’t really care if Callie or Pearl or Marina knew, because they were all adults and also idols, idols who had definitely been exposed to worse than an occasional cigarette, but she did care about Three finding out. The younger agent was like her little sister, family she cared about more than anything in the world, and the thought of being such an awful role model to someone so important to her was worse than the nicotine cravings she got from not smoking for a few hours while hanging out. She could deal with going without it for a little if it meant keeping up her image as a responsible older sister.
She couldn’t, however, deal with Three accidentally finding her pack of cigarettes while Marie was over at her apartment, helping her write checks for her utility bill.
They were sitting at the table, Three leaning back in her chair and Marie scribbling out the checks to cover her rent, utilities, and groceries for the month (“you don’t have to do this,” Three said every time without fail, to which Marie always responded “I know.”). Her purse was across from them, open from when Marie dug through it to pull out her checkbook, and she didn’t notice Three was peeking through it until she asked, “are those cigarettes in your purse?”
Marie looked up. There they were, sticking out slightly underneath her crumpled receipts and wallet. Dread flooded through her, and her entire body suddenly felt ice cold. “No,” she tried, even though she knew Three was smart and it was useless to deny it. She expected a concerned why? and perhaps even a few upset tears, but she certainly did not expect what came next.
“Can I have some?” Three asked.
“Wh– absolutely not!” Marie reached over to slap her arm, and Three flinched back and cried out in indignation. She hadn’t expected Three to ask for her cigarettes, but her dread from being found out quickly faded away into astonishment and worry for her little sister. Why would she ask? “Amira Bautista, you are sixteen years old!”
“It was just a question!” Three defended, rubbing her stinging arm. “Jeez, no need to get so worked up!”
“You better not be smoking,” Marie warned. “Do you know how bad that is for you? Have you been smoking?” Angrily, she grabbed Three’s ear and tugged on it.
“Ate!” Three shrieked. She pulled herself away from Marie’s grip and cupped her ear. “If it’s so bad, why do you get to smoke?”
“I’m twenty years old. I can do whatever I want!” It did make her think, though. The worry that exploded through her when Three asked was sobering, and suddenly she understood why Pearl had been so upset. Thinking about it herself, she couldn’t care less about how awful it was – it felt good, and the nicotine helped her relax. But thinking about Three smoking, Three exposing herself to the dangers of tobacco and tar and who knows what else, made her feel clammy.
Wow. Maybe she needed to think about that more.
Nevertheless, she shook her head and stood her ground. “When you’re old enough to buy a pack yourself, you can do whatever you want. But for now? You stay away from this. And if I find out you’re smoking, I’m telling Callie.”
Apparently the idea of Callie finding out was more than enough to make Three concede, because her face shifted and she immediately dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you should stop too.”
“Ah-ah, this conversation is out of your jurisdiction,” Marie said, feeling somewhat relieved that Three wouldn’t go down the same path she was, at least not yet. “Come on. Back to money. How much do you need for groceries this month?”
(On her way home, she lit up a cigarette before hopping on the train. When she brought it up to her lips and inhaled, all she could think about was her little sister. The worry she felt for Three, however, was exponentially more than the worry she had for herself, and she made a mental note to remind herself to buy another pack because she was starting to go through them quicker than before.)
-
Out of anyone in the world, Four was the person Marie dreaded finding out the most.
The past year after bringing Callie back from Octavio found them growing close, and Marie’s fondness for the kid had shifted from appreciation for saving her sister to a familial bond that was hard to describe. She didn’t want to say it was maternal, because she was merely three and a half years older and it would be weird calling herself her mom, but… it truly felt like it sometimes. She loved the kid. Four had become one of the most important people in her life, in a way that was reserved specially for her and only her.
Which is why it felt like the entire world stopped when Four found out.
Marie was at the Cuttlefish Cabin, sitting alone on the bench and looking up at the night sky. After her confrontation with Callie, she no longer felt comfortable smoking outside on the balcony out of fear of having to deal with another tense conversation. It was more relaxing to come out here anyway, because away from the pollution of the city the stars twinkled like diamonds in the indigo sky. It was the perfect spot to be by herself without fear of judgment. The stars wouldn’t be upset at the way she lit a cigarette, and then another, and then another.
On her third cigarette, the silence was interrupted.
It almost shocked her enough to make her fall off the bench as a figure suddenly shot out of the grate that led to the plaza. Four landed in kid form, holding what looked like textbooks securely underneath her arm and dressed in a large hoodie and sweatpants. When she looked up and saw Marie sitting on the bench, she flinched so hard Marie thought the poor kid was going to faint.
“Holy shit!” Four wheezed, her free hand coming up to clutch at her chest. “Sorry, didn’t know you were here.”
Marie opened her mouth to respond, but she saw Four’s face shift and it silenced her. It took her a few long moments to realize that she was looking at the cigarette still held securely between her fingers, and the long trails of smoke that drifted high into the sky.
Shit.
She rushed to put it out. There was no point, considering Four had already seen it, but she still quickly dropped it to the ground and dragged her shoe across it.
“You smoke?” Four’s question rang out. Her voice fell, uncharacteristically quiet, and Marie felt the guilt begin to form heavy in her stomach. The agent didn’t try to come closer; she stayed put, standing by the grate, clutching her textbooks and shivering slightly in her hoodie from the cold.
“I– I don’t.” Marie mentally slapped herself. “I mean, I do, but–”
“You know how awful that is for you?”
“I know.” Four’s frown only grew. “Kid, you don’t have to–”
The agent held out her hand, and Marie stopped talking. She was afraid the other would start yelling, or worse, start crying, and it thoroughly shocked her when instead she just shook her head silently. The disappointment was worse than anything Marie had ever felt in her life.
“I’m just gonna go back home,” Four murmured. It was so unlike the Four she knew, a teenager with a mouth bigger than her age, and she almost wished she’d confront her instead, because at least it would hurt less than feeling like she’d just let down the person she loved most in the world.
“Kyla–”
“Goodnight, Marie.” Four turned right back around, and Marie watched with a heavy heart as she disappeared just as quickly as she had arrived. The cigarette, still crushed underneath her foot, felt incriminating.
She sat there, alone underneath the night sky, and wondered when she had grown so comfortable disappointing the people she loved.
(The next day, she made the executive decision to throw out her pack of cigarettes. It wouldn’t last, and she knew she would end up buying another as soon as she stepped out of her apartment, but at least it was a start. She couldn’t keep doing this to her family, could she?)