Chapter Text
The bustling atmospheric chatter of the theater was quickly replaced by the faint rustles of leaves as the trees disposed of them for the winter. There was a chill in the air that captured nostalgia of better days. Benvolio sighed as he lifted his gaze from his beat up converse and onto the sidewalk in front of him, being sure not to step on any of the cracks, it was a game he played with himself when toying with boredom. He lacked a ride home, as his cousin didn’t feel like it - and neither did any of the other gang members. He didn’t mind, it was normal for him to lone it home, especially after watching movies. None of his gang dug books or films like he did. His older cousin, Romeo, never stuck his nose in a book his whole life. He could really benefit from it. Romeo at least put a little bit of effort into understanding Benvolio's interest in books on a good day, but it never stuck. He yelled a lot.
Benvolio awed at the palette of fall, it was charming. He liked all the display of oranges and reds, and the crunch of fallen leaves beneath his feet. It served as a reminder that everything could change - just to come back stronger. He liked to scout out pumpkins that people meticulously carved and set out on their patio, next to smaller pumpkins with not so much attention to detail, made by younger members. It told a warm story, a family lived there. Which made Benvolio with a pang of envy, he had stopped that tradition a long while ago, after Romeo’s parents died. They stuck together, even if it wasn’t the best option. The boy found himself wishing for company. Greasers aren’t supposed to leisure around alone too often or they’ll get jumped.
Every now and again they’ll get some well-off boy shouting “Greaser!” at them. Which is quite humiliating, and stings. It’s the Socs who antagonize them. The jet set, West-Side rich kids. Socs are just what those on the East-Side dubbed them. Like how they coined the East-Side “greasers”. Unfortunately, Benvolio fell under that term, as did all his friends. He soured at the idea.
Greasers are poorer than them, the Middle class. They throw extravagant parties, wreck houses and jump greasers just to get a dopamine high every now and again. Socs got in the papers for being a disgrace to the public, but then the next day would be “an asset to society”. It was sort of sad. The greasers weren’t at all like that, at least, in his mind they weren’t. Greasers steal things, drive ostentatious cars, and get in gang fights once in a while. Now, Benvolio would never do a thing like that, he didn’t have the guts. He would get his ass beat by his gang if he ever even thought about doing anything that got him in trouble with the police. He had a good life ahead of him.
With this in mind, he anxiously picked up his pace. He could’ve just waited until Romeo had gotten off work, so he could catch a ride with him. He could’ve dropped him off, maybe even watched it with him, or just walk along. But movies bore Romeo to death, even if he could sit still enough for one. He could’ve gotten one of the gang members to come along, they were close enough to family. Living in such a tightly-woven neighborhood allows you to get to know another really well. If Benvolio had actually thought about it, he could’ve rung up Abram — one of the gang members — to come and get him. He would’ve let Ben ride in his car. He scolded himself, it was too late now, therefore futile. He pinned his stupidity on being eighteen and bored. It bothers Romeo when Ben lacks some of the common sense he’s supposed to have. Because he gets good grades and has a pretty high IQ. He just… doesn’t think. Besides, he liked to walk. It was therapeutic.
It wasn’t of any good use, walking fast. Even before a fanciful corvair stalled beside him, and few Socs snaked out the car. He grit his teeth and his breath hitched as they caught up to him. He pondered if he could get away if he ran from them, he was a pretty good runner afterall. Then he remembered Mercutio after he had gotten jumped. His face was all bruised and bared a few cuts. He had cried when the gang found him in a corner lot. It took a lot to make Mercutio cry, he had an exorbitant gregarious demeanor.
Benvolio glanced around quickly as sweat broke at his palms, if he could just find an empty bottle of pop… even a stick would do. He recalled how Valentine had fended off a whole gaggle of Socs using a busted pop bottle. But there was nothing. So he stood there absentmindedly as they surrounded him, moving in a serpent-like way as they circled him like a pack of sharks. Shiteating grins tugged at their lips.
“What’s a wimpy greaser like you walking the streets alone for?” The tall, dirty blond asked, his tone practically soaked with virulence.
His grin only grew wider as he pulled a knife out of his pocket and flipped up the blade, which reflected the light of the sun as he briefly brandished it. Benvolio tried to search for something to say, but there isn’t much to say when you’re surrounded by a bunch of boys who are bigger and stronger than you. The others laughed, and spat out cusses under their breath.
“These are our streets y’know,” He said, taking a step closer, “so we’re gonna do you a favor ‘nd take you out of them.”
Benvolio finally thought of something to say. “I’m.. just walking home.” His voice was husk as he backed up, away from the blade that seemed to be inching closer to his throat. He backed into one of them, and they had Ben on the concrete in an instant. A new one, a raven-haired one was straddling him, his knees balanced on his elbows, which hurt like hell. He reeked of Tobacco and another nasty scent he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He thought he would suffocate with the effluvium that the Soc was producing and the weight he applied to his chest. He tried to wriggle out of the grasp, but action was taken upon very quickly as he felt the Socs knuckles connect to his jaw. He felt the spine of the knife hit his jawline and the cold metal against his cheek shortly after. He froze up with fear, uttering a curse under his breath.
“You’re not a very good listener. We oughta cut your ears off for that!”
He leaned closer to Benvolio’s face, which was twisted in pain and fear. It finally occurred to him that they could kill him. Right here, right now. That was when he let out a guttural scream. The Socs exchanged confused glances as he shouted for Romeo, Balthasar, Mercutio, anyone that could save him. In a stupid, but thoughtful attempt to hush him up, the raven-haired Soc threw a hand over his mouth - which did muffle him momentarily. But, Benvolio bit him. He felt the blood get in his mouth which he quickly spat out as the Soc yelped and released his hand. Ben got instant payback as he was quickly slugged again. He heard the blond Soc snap, “For God’s sake, shut him the fuck up!”
He was in a daze when he heard a distant shouting, and the Socs looked alarmed before they sprung up and scrambled to their car. He rolled to his side and gasped for air. He didn’t realize how much he had been constricted until he wasn’t. There was yelling and people ran past him, he heard an engine roar to a start and fade out rather quickly as the Socs stepped on it. Someone ran over and helped Benvolio to his feet. He recognized Romeo rather quickly.
“You okay Benni?”
Romeo had both his hands firmly on Benvolio’s shoulders and was shaking him vigorously. He wished that he would stop, he was already dizzy enough. And this was one of the only times Romeo had expressed genuine concern, and he's always rough with me without meaning it, he knew that Benvolio could handle it.
“I’m alright. I’m alright, would you stop shaking me?”
The shaking ceased almost immediately, Romeo looked down. “I’m sorry.”
Benvolio bit his lower lip, and tasted blood, he wasn’t sure if it was his or the Socs.. he ran a thumb along his lip and winced, there was a gash. He frowned, he knew Romeo didn’t really mean it. No matter how sincere it was, he never apologized for anything. He was sure it was regret, rather than genuine sympathy. Romeo was a spitting image of his father, Benvolio’s uncle. He was twenty-one. Benvolio liked Romeo's father while he was alive. He was a tall, lean built guy with warm eyes. Romeo inherited all of that, except the eyes. His eyes were cold, but when he was with the right people they would light up. Benvolio was more like his mother, Romeo’s fathers sister. She shared their height, and had dark, curly brown hair and was the sweetest woman you’d ever meet. Her and her brother were close, so Benvolio would often spend time at Romeo’s house and Romeo, his. They grew up like brothers. Which is why they now live together after sharing similar experiences - their parents demise.
Benvolio sat down again, rubbing his cheek where he had been punched with a soothing rhythm. Romeo looked back towards Benvolio and hitched his thumbs in his denim pockets.
“Did they hurt you bad?”
“No, I’m okay.”
They did in fact, hurt him bad. His hands were shaking from fear and adrenaline, his whole head pounded, and his chest was sore from that kid sitting on it. But you couldn’t tell Romeo that. Abram came sauntering back, his appearance allowed Benvolio to realize that the gang had heard his pleas and came to save him. He had crouched by Benvolio and examined his head before humming, “Damn! You got cut up a bit, huh, Ben?”
He turned to Abram and raised his brows, expression bare. “Did I?”
His reply was returned with a scoff, Abram searched his flannel for a handkerchief, eventually finding it and wetting it with his tongue before pressing it to Benvolio's face. It quickly soaked up the blood from his wound and he took it off and showed it to Benvolio, who blinked at it with wide eyes.
“Did they pull a blade on you? You’re bleeding like a burst pipe!”
Abram exclaimed as Benvolio recalled the blond. He nodded as Abram again, pressed a new corner of the handkerchief to his face. “Yeah,” he huffed, the blade must’ve slipped while they were trying to shut him up. “A big one too.”
His statement was met with furrowed brows, Abram was clearly disheartened by hearing this. He sent a gaze to Romeo who seemed disinterested but returned it with a nod of his head. Though, Abram could really do something more with his looks. It was impossible to hate the guy. Though he had a serious side, and it was showing as he cleaned off Ben’s face. He’s able to understand everybody. He took a closer look at Ben, whose pain was beginning to get him. He had turned pale and drew a quivering breath. Abram softened and patted his shoulder firmly.
“It’s okay, Benvolio! They’re gone! We chased ‘em off. They won’t hurt you anymore.”
“I know, I’m just startled, sorry.”
Benvolio quivered, trying to steady his shaking. Abram tousled his hair, sharing a warm grin. Benvolio wiped his eyes, which were beginning to blur with tears and released a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sucked up his tears, he hadn’t a reason to cry, you could only cry around these parts if you had been beaten as badly as Mercutio.
“You’re an awesome kid, Ben, y’know that?” Abram finished, and hoisted Ben back to his feet.
“You’re out of your mind, Abram.” Benvolio had to grin back at him, it was so contagious.
Whereas Romeo looked like he was gonna smack their two heads together and shook his head. “You’re both looney.”
Benvolio and Abram exchanged puerile sniggers, Abram shot back a teasing remark, “guess it runs in your family.”
Both Ben and Romeo gave a hard elbow to Abrams' side who giggled and rolled his eyes.
Apparently, the rest of the gang chased after the Socs car and heaved rocks at it, which would definitely cost the Socs money at the repair shop. They approached us now, they were mighty tough, and looked it too. He felt at home with them even though they weren’t his real family. They sure felt like it though.
Valentine was another one of the oldest at twenty-four, and had long, curly blond hair and sharp green eyes.. He was related to Mercutio, he and Romeo worked at the same gas station, only he worked part-time. The two together gathered more customers than any gas station in town, whether it was because of Val’s car skills, or Romeo’s looks that attracted the girls like flies to honey. He was wicked good at fixing cars. He could lift a hubcap with adroit silence and skill, nobody else knew how he did it. He knew a car's anatomy upside-down inside out and backward. Benvolio liked Valentine for two reasons, one: he was Romeo’s friend, and two: he was related to Mercutio, his best friend. He was sure Valentine didn’t like him, however. He thought Ben was a tag-along. Abram never made him feel that way, though. He was like the father of the group being twenty-three, he had rusty, almost ginger colored hair and styled it almost perfect. He had soft, gray eyes and an infectious grin. He always had some sort of funny remark, he would never run out of them. He was a skilled shoplifter, and it’s definitely due to his talent, he was always out-smarting and playing the victim to cops. He got away with it too, his humor brightened the cops dull lives. He liked to fight.
One of the tougher characters of the gang was Balthasar, he was hard to read. He had dark black hair, straight as pins. He was twenty-two and had teeth like a lynx, and ears to match it. He didn’t style his hair with grease either, so it was long and it wrapped around the nape of his neck like a necklace. He had bangs too, not long enough to cover his icy eyes. They carried a distinguished glint of hatred. He had been arrested at a young age. He's tougher, meaner, and colder than the rest of the gang. He liked to rid himself of steam in gang fights, but here the gangs were close groups of friends and the constant warfare before the two social classes… He was wild. There were Rumbles, born of grudge fights where the opponents happened to bring friends along. There was no rivalry between the gangs, only the Socs and the greasers. And the Socs always won. Always. So, he had reason to be such a bitter character. They have a file on Balthasar at the police station, he isn’t afraid to do anything, he's been arrested, gotten drunk, cheated,stole, jumped small kids – everything. You didn’t have to like him, but he was smart so you’d have to respect him.
Last was Mercutio. He was one of the youngest, next to Benvolio. Mercutio was nineteen and was a sandy blond, just like Valentine. He had these… weirdly pretty dark green eyes, which complimented his tanned skin. He kept his hair short, though. He had his hair combed off the side, but it rarely stayed like that and often gave him bangs. Despite his amiable demeanor, he always had this.. Nervous, paranoid look in his eyes. You could thank the Socs for that. He and Valentine didn’t have a perfect homelife, their father was a drunk and their mother ignored them. But that gave them the freedom to do whatever they wanted. Except for when she was angry - then you could hear her hounding them from across the block. If it weren’t for the gang, Mercutio and Valentine wouldn’t know what true love and affection was. It would be a foreign idea, maybe one that didn’t even exist to them. But that was another universe, a far off one. This one, they got all the affection they needed from the gang - and each other.
Benvolio wiped his eyes again as they approached, clearing them of any leftover tears. “Did you catch them?”
“No, those dirty freaks got away this time…” Valentine hissed, cursing them with every insult he could have thought of in the moment. Benvolio looked for Mercutio, to see if he was hearing the same thing. They had the same idea, and made awkward eye contact before snickering, they thought pretty similarly. It was nice to know.
“Is the kid alright? Looks pretty shaken.” Balthasar piped up, cocking his head.
“I’m okay.” He felt like he had repeated that for the millionth time, he bit the insides of his cheeks, and changed the subject. He wasn’t a fan of being the center of attention. “Didn’t know you were out of the big house yet, Balth.”
“Good behavior.” He said, plainly, taking out a box of Marlboro blues, he lit one and passed it to Mercutio, who gave it an irked glance but took it anyway. Benvolio snagged one up and took a drag. It worked quickly on his nerves. His color was back in time and he had quit the trembling. The smell of cigarettes became overwhelming. Abram cocked his brow as he examined Benvolio. “Nice bruise you got there, Ben.”
“Is it really?” Benvolio touched his cheek gingerly, it hurt like hell, but it had stopped bleeding.
Abram nodded shrewdly, “Yah, makes you look tough.”
Benvolio felt heat claw at his cheeks, tough meant something good. Like tuff, they were both compliments. It meant cool, or sharp. It was silent for a moment before Valentine spoke up, flicking his ashes at Benvolio with a disinterested gaze.
“What were you doing all by yourself? Walking on your lonesome?”
Benvolio sneered before trying to defend himself. All their gazes burned into him. He could suddenly feel where all his clothes were touching his skin. He pulled at his sleeves subconsciously . “I was just walking back home, I didn’t think –”
“You never think!” Romeo interrupted, snappy, puffing out the smoke, at least he cared enough not to blow it at anyone's face. “At least, never where it's important. You’re always engrossed in some sort of book, you’ve at least gotta think at school with those grades of yours. Should’ve carried a blade if you had to go alone. ”
Benvolio narrowed his eyes, but all he could do was gape, trying to find the words to fight back, but couldn’t and looked down at his converse. He knew he could never please his cousin, he always expected the highest of him. But he wasn’t the highest. How could Romeo not see that? He felt a hand on his shoulder, he recognized it. Mercutio. He looked up at the blond, who was offering a small smile. Which Benvolio returned, although the rest of his expression was dreary.
“Shove off him, Romeo.”
That was Abram, he often stood up for Ben when he could. And Romeo liked him too much to argue, and quit the tease for at least a little while.
“It’s not his fault he digs films, and it's not his fault the Socs have a violent eye on us.” He finished, and Romeo squinted with annoyance, clearly dismayed that he was eaten alive by one of the gang members. So, shove off he did. He turned to walk home. The others stood by, exchanging awkward glances. “Next time you wanna see a movie, just ask one of us. We’ll go with you, Benni.”
“Thanks.. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He mumbled, flashing a smile at Abram, and the others of the gang. To show he was okay. There was a blatant tension in the air, Balthasar cut it up, flicking away his cigarette and quickly stamped it out with his sole. “Speaking of movies… I’m going to the Drive-In tomorrow night. Anyone want to come along?”
“Me and Ben will.” Mercutio spoke up for Ben, grinning wide as he playfully elbowed his shoulder.
Benvolio really appreciated it. He felt humiliated and didn’t wanna seem any more odd than he already did. Ben also knew that Romeo would let him, since it wasn’t a school night. He tended to be more lenient when it wasn’t.
“I wanted to get boozed up,” Abram interjected. “But if I decide against it, I’ll walk over ‘nd find you guys!”
Balthasar looked at the crew and shrugged, seemingly satisfied with the crew. The sky was getting dark. They all seemed to notice, mutually agreeing to walk to their respective homes. Benvolio walked behind all the big guys. Still utterly embarrassed about getting jumped then yelled at by his older cousin. Mercutio took notice of Benvolio trailing behind and slowed his pace to match Benvolios. There was a comfortable silence. Which was surprising because Mercutio usually had a lot to say. But it was clear neither of them minded, and they tuned in on the talk infront of them.
Benvolio spent his night routine going over the events of today. He stared at himself in the mirror, his whole cheek was bruised. But there was a bandaid slapped over the cut that Romeo forced Benvolio to put on. He was reluctant but did so anyway. He sighed, tearing his gaze away from the cracked mirror and shut off the light before snaking to his room. He sat himself in bed and pulled the covers up to his chest, where he believed them to be most comfortable. Mercutio's uncharacteristic silence nerved him. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how they both seemed so… Okay with it.
In the end he grew a pit in his stomach and decided to call it a day. He told himself he was still okay with it, Mercutio was the last thing he wanted on his mind.
But he was anyway.