Author's Note: Yeah, I'm sure you were all wondering "When the hell is she gonna put in 'I Feel Pretty'? It's the best frickin' song in the whole show!! AHH!" Well I put it in today. ;-)
Disclaimer: The newsies belong to Disney, West, Mouse, Rims, and Tempest belong to me, and everything else you see belongs to the musical "West Side Story".
.o.
East Side Story - Chapter IV.
.o.
I feel pretty,
Oh so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright,
And I pity any girl who isn't me tonight!
I feel charming,
Oh so charming,
It's alarming how charming I feel,
And so pretty that I hardly can believe I'm real!
See the pretty girl in that mirror there?
Who can that attractive girl be?
Such a pretty face,
Such a pretty dress,
Such a pretty smile,
Such a pretty me!
I feel stunning
And entrancing,
Feel like running and dancing for joy,
For I'm loved by a pretty, wonderful boy!
-"I Feel Pretty", West Side Story
.o.
"I feel pretty," Blink announced happily on Monday evening.
Mush looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "You feel... pretty," he repeated as he accepted a stack of dirty dishes from one of the waitresses. "Well you sound incredibly homosexual."
"Oh, but I am."
"What? Pretty or homosexual?"
Blink paused. "Both, I guess," he said, and Mush laughed.
The two boys were currently on kitchen duty at Paul Shanley's restaurant, scrubbing and drying and replacing dishes onto the shelves. It was a relatively simple task for two notorious troublemakers, according to Mr. Shanley. It was also Blink's and Mush's last chance, because they had managed to work their way through all the other positions -- Mush had begun to make out with one of the young women whom he was serving on his first day as a water, which greatly distressed her mother; Blink had almost lit the entire building on fire during his short employment behind the grill; Mush had yet to successfully scoop an ice cream cone without eating it himself; an alarmed customer had found a slug in his salad, due to the fact that Blink had decided to be daring and not wash the Romaine lettuce; and both boys had turned the area behind the bar into a catwalk, where they modeled their uniform t-shirts in various fashions and refused to serve anyone.
So far, the position as dishwashers seemed to be working fairly well. Mush couldn't see the pretty female customers when he was so far back into the kitchen, and Blink was being extra careful not to break any plates this time. Mr. Shanley was very pleased.
"BLINK FEELS PRETTY!" sang Mush blithely. "OH SO PRETTY! BLINK FEELS PRETTY AND WITTY AND GAAAAAAY!"
"MEYERS! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SINGING?"
"Wasn't me, sir! A man came in through the window and started singin', and Blink and I tried to catch 'im, but he just ran out the window again, laughin'! Honest, sir!"
"AND WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT LAME EXCUSES?"
"Sorry, sir, won't happen again!"
Blink squatted down to replace a few clean dishes on the bottom shelf. "Mush, you're gonna get us fired," he said, but he was grinning.
"Nah, he'll never fire us," said Mush lightly. "He loves me too much."
"MEYERS! QUIT DAWDLING AND GET TO WORK!"
"Sorry, sir!" Mush yelped, turning back to the dishes and ignoring Blink's sniggers. He turned on the hot water, filled his mouth with it, and spat it at his friend. "So are you comin' to the Opium Den tonight?"
He wasn't talking about a real opium den, because Specs would have a mental breakdown if he found out that his friends were drug addicts. (He was the only Jet who didn't smoke, drink, or have unsafe sex under any circumstances.) Swifty's apartment was small, warm, and had a faint, sweet smell emanating from everything. The entire complex was earthy and a rich red color, and the walls were lined with flat, cushioned benches; so it was, essentially, a drug-free opium den. The Jets hung out there as frequently as possibly to talk, sleep, philosophize, and listen to Specs read Shakespeare aloud.
Blink licked his lips. "Nah, can't. I'm tired, I think I'll turn in early tonight."
"Okay," said Mush with a smile, and he balanced a stack of clean salad bowls on his head and shimmied across the kitchen to put them away. Astonishingly, he didn't break a single one.
Blink felt awful. He hated lying to his best friend, but he knew that it was the only way he and Bumlets could be together. Ohh, that sounds terrible, he thought, horrified. Like a cheesy romance novel. Congratulations, Blink, you have just proved yourself to be about as worth spending time with as the spaghetti sauce encrusting this place. He picked up a sponge, scrubbed the plate clean, and felt very sorry for himself.
Before he knew it, it was 8:00 and Paul Shanley was kicking out the last of the customers and beginning to close the restaurant. Blink, Mush, and the rest of the employees happily peeled off their rubber gloves, pocketed their nametags, and (in the case of Mush) took off their shirts and wrapped them around their heads like turbans.
Blink glanced at his watch and hurried past Mush, who was doing an odd sort of belly dance, to where Mr. Shanley was putting up chairs. He smiled. "I could lock up tonight, Mr. Shanley, if you want."
"Why?" Mr. Shanley asked suspiciously.
"Why?" Mush demanded, astonished.
Blink shrugged. "Because I feel like... being helpful?"
Mr. Shanley looking him over, beady eyes still narrowed distrustfully. Finally, he tossed Blink the keys. "Don't do anything stupid, Parker. I want the chairs up, shades down, lights off, and the door locked. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," said Blink.
"All right, boys, pack it up!"
The rest of the employees trooped out of the restaurant, but Mush didn't move. "Why?" he asked again, his eyebrows in danger of disappearing into his hair.
"I already said."
"Oh," said Mush, and he put back on his shirt. "Do you want any help or anythin'? The guys won't miss me if I'm late."
"No, I'm all right," said Blink. "Thanks."
"No problem." Mush put his hands in his pockets and examined the floor. Blink turned to put up a chair, and when he glanced back, Mush had gone.
"Shit," said Blink. "I suck."
Ordinarily, he would have rather enjoyed the peace and quiet of the empty restaurant, but he was too miserable to enjoy anything at the moment. He put the rest of the chairs up, humming tunelessly, and then lifted himself up onto the counter and swung his legs a little. He glanced at his watch several times in a row. He tapped his fingers impatiently. He made himself a milkshake behind the bar and drank it. He was extremely bored.
"HE HAD IT COMIN'! HE HAD IT COMIN'! HE ONLY HAD HIMSELF TO BLAAAAME! IF YOU'DA BEEN THERE, IF YOU'DA SEEN IT, I'LL BETCHA YOU WOULD HAVE DONE THE SAAAAME!" Blink did a very seductive, very feminine little dance on the counter (thank god he had pulled the shades down earlier), ran his hands through his hair spun around on his heel, and found himself face to face with Bumlets.
"That was much better than Catherine Zeta-Jones," said the Puerto Rican boy.
"Thank you," said Blink, and he turned a very interesting shade of pink and melted into a puddle on the counter.
Bumlets took off his jacket and hung it up on a nearby coat stand. "Sorry I'm late," he said with a grin. "Were you waiting long?"
"No, not long," lied Blink the Puddle.
"Good." A smile spread across Bumlets face, and then faded slightly as his brow furrowed in thought. Blink loved when he did that; he was so indecisive. "I've been thinkin' about you all day, and I've decided I'm in love with you," said Bumlets finally.
Blink opened his mouth. Whoa. Man. Bumlets was looking at the floor, slightly embarrassed, his hair hanging in his eyes. "Bumlets," said Blink.
The darker boy didn't look up. "Yeah, Blink?"
"No one's ever said that to me before," said Blink.
"Oh."
"I love you, too," said Blink. He didn't know where the words were coming from (certainly not his own mouth), but he did know that they were true. He had never met anyone like Bumlets before, and he loved everything about him, right down to his unreasonable fetish for soap bubbles. He grinned. Awesome. "And if you're pullin' my leg, I'm gonna be extremely upset."
"I don't know how to joke like that, Blink. You know that." Bumlets met the other boy's eyes and smiled. "Shall we kiss passionately and complete the cheesy, romantic moment?"
"Yes," said Blink, and they did. He ran a hand through Bumlets' hair, wanting the color to rub off in his fingers so that he could keep it with him always, tattooed to his fingertips. The darker boy's tongue touched his, and Blink realized that Bumlets could probably taste the milkshake he had drunk earlier. I hope he likes strawberry, he thought anxiously.
Bumlets pulled away. "Let's move to Switzerland," he said.
"And adopt ten children," said Blink.
"And an ugly, old mutt named Thelma," said Bumlets.
"And teach her to sing songs from 'Mary Poppins'," said Blink, and they kissed again.
There was a noise at the front of the pub. The two boys broke apart, panting slightly, to see Mush standing in the open doorway, looking absolutely flabbergasted. "I forgot my coat," he said, wide eyes going from Blink to Bumlets and back to Blink. "I'll go get it and leave you two alone."
Blink gripped a chair leg and glanced at Bumlets, who was leaning forward against the tabletop, looking indolently down at nothing in particular. "Mush!" said Blink jerkily.
The other boy didn't answer, crossing the room to the closet. Blink followed him, wringing his hands and looking exactly like a concerned mother. "Listen to me, okay? Just listen to me for a minute, and then you can yell at me all you want. I didn't want to lie to anyone, especially not to you, but this is a classic Romeo and Juliet situation here!"
"Did you know that David Beckham named one of his sons Romeo?" said Mush mildly, pulling on his jacket. "Romeo and Brooklyn. Their names are tattooed onto his back."
"The Sharks all have our nicknames tattooed onto our lower backs," said Bumlets without looking up. "It's kind of a representation of our loyalty to the gang, y'know? I got mine about a year ago."
"Did it hurt?" asked Mush.
"Yeah," said Bumlets.
"GUYYYYS!" Blink whined, covering his face with his hands. "Mush, I'm sorry I lied to you. I know you're pissed at me 'cause you always start reciting random trivia when you're pissed, but you have every right to be mad at me, and I'll understand if you don't feel like talking to me for a while. It's just--"
Mush leaned in close, face full of concern. "Blink, he's a Shark," he said softly.
"So?" said Blink indignantly.
"So--" Mush glanced at Bumlets, who was tracing patterns over the tabletop with one long, brown finger, and lowered his voice. "So it won't work. Don't you see? You couldn't possibly go together, because your people and his people just don't mix. You're just gonna get someone killed, Blink, c'mon."
"Mush, I love him," said Blink angrily, almost whispering.
"No you don't," Mush answered, eyes wide. "Blink, for all you know he's just trying to get information about the rumble or somethin'. He's a fucking Puerto Rican!"
"And I'm a Caucasian with one eye. He. Doesn't. Care. And neither do I. We're a hundred fucking feet in the air, and it's great."
Mush glanced up at the ceiling and then pulled the rim of his hat over his eyes. "I'll see you later, Parker." He smiled numbly and began to walk out the door.
"You won't tell, Mush?"
"Tell what? How can I hear what's goin' on a hundred feet over my head?" said Mush dryly. "Night, gentlemen."
"Good night," said Bumlets quietly from the table.
The door clicked shut behind the African boy, and Blink turned to Bumlets. "Did you hear all that?" he asked softly. Bumlets nodded, eyes still on the table. "I'm sorry."
He looked up and smiled faintly. "S'all right," he said, and he flicked his bangs out of his eyes. "I should probably go. Ill see ya later, Blink."
"Hey." Blink caught the other boy's arm as he was making to leave. "We're still movin' to Switzerland, right? With Thelma?"
Bumlets grinned "Yeah," he said. "Of course we are. I'd kill myself if I had to spend the rest of my life in Manhattan." He winked. "Night, Blink."
"Night," said Blink. He watched Bumlets leave until he could no longer see him, smiling to himself.
Then he really began to lock up the restaurant.
.o.
"'What should I do with him? Dress him up in my apparel and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him: therefore, I will even take sixpence in earnest of his beard-ward, and lead his apes in hell.'"
The room was silent for a minute as Specs frowned thoughtfully at the book in his hands and the rest of the Jets tried to figure out what the hell that meant. Then Jack began to laugh from one of the benches, his face buried in Spot's chest. "That Will Shakespeare, he really knows how to make 'em laugh..." he giggled, and he snorted loudly and took another swig of the bottle in his hand.
"Jesus Christ..." Spot tried to wrench the Jet leader off him, but Jack stayed put, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist. "Jack, how many beers have you had?"
Jack closed his eyes, smiling serenely. "Nine," he whispered.Spot swore loudly.
It was a typical evening in the Opium Den, full of almost drunk (or, in the case of Jack Kelly, completely drunk) teenage boys, Shakespeare novels, and cigarette smoke. At the moment Specs was reading from "Much Ado About Nothing", with occasional help from Dutchy when the scene required passionate sobbing, odd background bird calls, or an incredibly seductive pole-dance. Needless to say, the blond boy's talents had not been of much help as of yet.
Just then the door opened and in staggered Kid Blink, looking oddly blank and not meeting anyone's eyes. He sat down on the floor by Swifty's legs and pulled his knees up to his chest, apparently deeply immersed in thought. "Hey, you made it," said Spot. "At last, someone who hasn't been affected by alcohol yet. Here, Blink, get this idiot off my chest."
Blink closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bench. He looked perfectly miserable.
Spot lifted an eyebrow delicately. "On the other hand, have you been drinkin', Blink? You seem kinda high or somethin'..."
"We got hiiiiiigh on travel, and we got druuuuuuuuunk on alcohol... and on looooooooove, the strongest poison and medicine of aaaaaaaall!" sang Dutchy, taking another swig of his beer.
Specs looked up from his book. "Unless I'm very much mistaken," he said, putting in a bookmark and closing the book, "that was a Joni Mitchell song. I had no idea you listened to her, Dutchy."
"My mom likes to sing 'The Last Time I Saw Richard'," said Swifty with a slight shudder.
Dutchy turned rather pink and hid behind his beer. "Can we continue reading?" he said meekly. "I want to hear what happens next..."
"Can we read 'Romeo and Juliet'?" asked Mush. "I'm sick of tryin' to figure out what the hell 'Much Ado About Nothing' is about."
"Sure-- if I can find it." Specs turned, grimacing, to the enormous stack of Shakespeare plays piled beside him. "This could take a few minutes."
"IS ANYONE GONNA FUCKING TAKE KELLY OFF ME?" Spot yelled from under Jack, but nobody was listening to him. Dutchy was showing Swifty the different birdcalls he could do, Mush was slipping his cigarette butt under the cushion with a furtive glance at Swifty, and Blink was remaining motionless, his face impassive. He felt as though he had betrayed his gang by falling in love with Bumlets, and he didn't like the feeling at all.
"AHA!" Specs yelled. "I have located the book!"
"Hooray," said Spot apathetically, trying to wiggle out from under Jack's body. "I'm still being slowly suffocated by a sleeping lump who, might I add, is A FRIGGIN' FOOT TALLER THAN ME! Blink, if you don't want to lose a testicle, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND HELP ME!"
Blink didn't move.
"Maybe he wants to lose a testicle," said Swifty with a shrug.
"Is he dead?" said Specs.
"No, he's breathing," Dutchy reassured him as he put his head against Blink's chest. "BLIIINKYYY, WAKE UUUUUP! Mush, was he like this at work?"
Mush closed his eyes. "No," he said.
Specs watched him, eyebrow raised. "I vote we read 'Romeo and Juliet' now and leave Blink alone. All in favor, say 'aye'."
"Aye," said everyone but Blink and Jack, so Specs cracked open the book and began to read aloud.
"So when we last stopped, we were at Scene 11, am I right? Okay, so Capulet says, 'But Montague is bound as well as I in penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, for men as old as we to keep the peace.' And Paris answers, 'Of honorable reckoning are you both...'"
Blink wasn't listening. He looked at Mush, who was staring down at his hands, and wondered if the other boy had requested this story for a specific reason. Maybe he was trying to make a point. The storyline was, after all, quite similar to Blink and Bumlets' situation-- two lovers from separate groups who fell in love despite the fact that it was forbidden. Blink only hoped the pair of them were not going to end up killing themselves.
"...And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, she is the hopeful lady of my earth; but woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, for my will to consent is but a part...'"
"This is too fucking much," Blink murmured, then louder: "This is too fucking much."
Specs stopped and looked at him, eyes wide with concern. "W-what?" he asked.
"Blink, is everythin' all right?" asked Swifty.
But the blond boy had already gotten up and crossed the room, unsure of his destination but determined to leave. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, running his tongue across his teeth, and then turned and sank to his knees. "Here you go," he said quietly, and he gently pulled Jack's sleeping form off of Spot's chest. "Sorry." And he was gone.
There was silence for a minute in the Opium Den, and Specs dropped the Shakespeare novel onto the floor with a dull thud. "What the fuck was that about?" said Spot softly, rubbing his chest.
Nobody answered him.
.o.
Make of our lives one life,
Day after day, one life...
Now it begins, now we start
One hand, one heart—
Even death won't part us now!
-"One Hand, One Heart" - West Side Story
.o.
Author's Note: I rewrote this chapter twice, and I must say I'm very sick of it. Ah well. It's necessary for the plot, so I have to keep it. Anyway, much love for Nakaia Aiden-Sun, Repeat, Glitz Kelly, Sapphy, Dakki, Tessie26, Braids21, Eagle Higgins-Conlon, Dreamer101 and Scout73 for reviewing, and an extra hug for Dakki-- RED SOX FANS UNITE!! YEE-HAW! Please leave a review!
-Saturday
