Author's Note: Let me start out by saying that I never thought I'd publish another story on FanFiction (as you can probably tell from my extremely juvenile username, which has been in place since 2007). I was 13 years old when I published my first story here, and I was 17 years old when I published my last. I'm now closer to 30 than I am to 20, if that gives you any indication of how much time has passed. Still, my love for West Side Story, and for Riff and Graziella, has never waned over the years, and when the idea for this story just kept worming its way into my mind, I figured there was no harm in trying to get it down.
I would like to note that this story is based on the 1961 version of West Side Story. Yes, I have seen Spielberg's West Side Story and yes, I did enjoy it. Very much so, in fact, which came as quite a surprise to my highly skeptical self. I thought Mike Faist did an absolutely amazing job as Riff. He and Russ Tamblyn have such unique takes on the role of Riff, which I think is great because it allows you to enjoy both their performances without comparing one to the other. Paloma Garcia-Lee is such a talented dancer, and she and Mike Faist had amazing chemistry as Riff and Graziella. In my opinion, their dynamic was different than Russ Tamblyn and Gina Trikonis', which is why I felt more comfortable basing this story on the '61 version, as I've been writing Riff/Graz stories based on that one for a while. However, I'm definitely going to try writing some stories for the 2021 film!
As I mentioned, this story is just a little something that kept swirling around in my mind and seemed to be demanding to be written down. I actually have Spielberg's WSS to thank for it, as the idea for this story started popping up after I first saw the trailer for the new West Side Story. Let me know what you think (it has been a while since I've written anything like this), and if you've seen the new movie, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
God, but she loves him.
Watching him move stealthily down the alleyway behind her apartment building, a tiny smile touches Graziella's pink and puckered lips, swollen from kisses she could still feel down to her toes. She should start getting ready, but she just can't take her eyes off him. Something keeps her rooted to the spot by her bedroom window, her dark eyes drinking in his disappearing figure. Even in the fading light, she can see the desperate energy practically pulsing out of every inch of his handsome body. He could never sit still, never. Sometimes it was harder to tell which ran faster, his feet or his mouth. The thought makes her smile.
He was just so…Riff.
It's only when he's completely gone from sight, probably already halfway to the Jets, that Graziella turns away with a sigh. She feels oddly empty all of a sudden, but the feeling passes as quickly as it comes. She'll see him again soon. It was a treat that he stopped by earlier at all. Riff never usually came to see her before a rumble. It was always afterwards that he would climb up her fire escape and tap on her window, desperate to spend the night exhausting the energy he'd built up while defending the Jets' turf. So it had been quite the surprise when she'd found him sitting outside her bedroom window an hour ago, looking like a caged lion with the fire escape grate behind his head.
"Riff, what are ya doin'?" she'd asked, clad in nothing but a silky slip as she opened the window.
His only response, chest heaving slightly, had been to smash his lips against hers in a heated rush, burying his fingers in her vibrant red hair as he slipped into her bedroom. They'd barely made it to the bed at all, clothes strewn all over the floor as her lovable lion found some release for all that pent up energy.
He hadn't said much afterward, not even to complain about the cuddling she always insisted on, and she knew then that he was nervous. He would never say so, but she knew him better than he thought. This thing with the Sharks, it wasn't just any old rumble. It was a final, all-out war. It was about territory. Their territory. It was a fight Riff wasn't willing to lose.
"The Jets'll be waiting, babe," he'd finally said, sliding out of her bed to grab his clothes.
Crawling up behind where he sat on the edge of her bed to slip his sneakers back on, she'd pressed a kiss to his shoulder and held him from behind. She suddenly felt antsy and didn't know why. Maybe he'd passed some of his restlessness onto her.
"It'll just be Ice fightin' Bernardo, right?" She'd never say so to Velma, but the thought filled her with a ridiculous amount of relief.
Quirking a brow, he looked at her with the smirk that somehow made her want to kiss him and hit him at the same time. "Worried 'bout me, are ya?"
"Ya know I am," she'd retorted, pinching his arm and smirking in return to hide the nervousness she felt.
Laughing, he'd bent his head to kiss her again. "I'll see ya after we send them PRs back to San Juan, Graz," he promised, winking before slipping out her window and down the fire escape. As quick as he had been there, he was gone.
Sighing again, Graziella drops down in front of her vanity, assessing the damage. Her red hair is completely mussed, her fair skin flushed a deep pink. And there, under her chin and near her collarbone—two love bites.
"Damn ya, Riff," she mutters with affection, brushing her fingers over the marks. She can't begrudge them, knowing how much pleasure it gave her to receive them.
Oh, she loves him.
After. He'd promised to come see her after. Her heart thrills at the thought. Something feels different about tonight. There's something in the air, something about the anticipation, that makes her feel like something big is going to happen.
Giggling to herself, Graziella slips over to her closet, rummaging through hangers full of dresses and skirts in search of the perfect outfit to wear for when Riff takes her out tonight in their territory, newly freed of the Sharks. After trying and discarding a few looks, she finally settles on a sleeveless, low-cut black top with a sultry purple skirt that hugs her curves in all the right places.
Riff will love it. Or, rather, he'll love taking it off, she thinks to herself with a satisfied smirk.
Dressed and too impatient to sit around waiting, Graziella begins making her bed, lovingly touching the pillow she'd come to think of as his. She's not quite sure how she'd survived without Riff in her life, and, now that she has him, she doesn't intend to find out.
The rumble was the only thing that stood between them now. Just a little fair fight between Ice and Bernardo. Then Riff would be back to claim his pillow once more.
After the rumble.
A shiver of excitement tingles down her spine.
She can't wait until after.
God, but she had loved him.
Velma is telling her that they have to go, that Ice has to meet up with the rest of the Jets, that she shouldn't be alone right now and that she needs to come with them.
Alone. She would always be alone now.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's conscious of Ice and Velma exchanging a look, Ice looking like hell and Velma white with worry. But it's not supposed to be Ice and Velma in her bedroom. Turning her head, Graziella takes in the sight of that lonely pillow across her bed.
But before…he'd promised her…
She had been on the verge of annoyance, pacing back and forth in her bedroom, when she'd finally heard the sound of footsteps on the fire escape. Heart leaping into her throat, she'd immediately run over to open the window, ready to make some sarcastic comment about him keeping her waiting. She hadn't even registered the second set of footsteps, hadn't known what to think when her best friend's face had met hers instead of her boyfriend's.
Velma's pale cheeks had been streaked with tears, her blue eyes wide and sad. Graziella's stomach had dropped in horror. "Oh, God, Vel…Ice…"
Before she could even finish the thought, however, Ice had suddenly appeared behind her best friend's shoulder. He looked like he'd been roughed up a bit, sure, but certainly no reason for tears. For some reason that she couldn't discern at the time, Ice hadn't been able to meet her gaze.
"Where's Riff?" Graziella had asked, her even voice cutting through the tension that was growing thick in the air, wrapping its hands around her throat.
"Graz," Velma had begun softly, reaching out a hand towards her.
"He's playin' a trick, ain't he? Sendin' you an' Ice ta try ta spook me, make me think yous lost the rumble," she'd said quickly, ignoring the stricken look on her best friend's face. "C'mon, where is he?" she'd asked, leaning out her window, knowing…hoping…praying that she'd see Riff's smirking face hiding beneath her fire escape.
"Graziella," Velma started again, Ice's fingers brushing against her shoulder when she faltered. "Graz, we should go inside."
It's funny, Graziella thinks. She hadn't cried when they'd said it, when they'd said the words that had shattered her world in an instant. She still wasn't crying, even as Velma kept looking at her worriedly. It seems, she realizes, that when a knife is plunged into your heart, there's no time for tears. All you can do is focus on trying to breathe. She suddenly can't remember how to do that.
Looking down, Graziella catches sight of herself, of the outfit she'd so carefully picked out just an hour or two before. A lifetime ago. The outfit she'd once believed to be so carefree and fun—it feels like funeral garb. It is now, she guesses.
"Graz, please, come with us." Velma's cold fingers close around her hand, tugging her limp form off the edge of her bed.
Before…before…he had been here just a few hours before. So full of energy. So full of life. So Riff. What Velma and Ice were trying to tell her just didn't make any sense. Her Riff, her beautiful, perfect, wonderful Riff. He couldn't be lying lifeless under the highway, cold and alone. Still and quiet. He couldn't be, not when he'd just been here, bursting with life and the promise of all that would come after.
Ice is waiting on the fire escape now, his tense figure pulsing with impatience and something else that Graziella can't quite name, but can feel in her own bones all the same. Stumbling towards the window behind Velma, she looks back at her bed, at his pillow, one last time. She'll never sleep in that bed the same way again.
Clambering down the fire escape after her friends, her hands begin to shake and her body begins to tremble. The wide, empty hole that has been filling her up since Ice and Velma had appeared is slowly shrinking, being replaced by a sharp, painful awareness of what tonight means. What they've lost. What she's lost.
Heart squeezing in agony, Graziella doesn't even notice her foot slipping off the last rung on the fire escape ladder. It's only Velma's loud gasp that mildly penetrates the cloud forming in her mind, Ice's arms catching her that pulls her attention back to the present moment. His arms feel so wrong around her. They're not the arms that are supposed to be holding her right now. She fights the urge to shove him away, to scream, to fall apart.
"Graz, follow us," Velma tells her gently, pulling her along down the alleyway. It's the same alleyway she'd watched Riff run out of earlier today.
Another blade, sharper than Bernardo's could have ever been, slips its way into her heart when she realizes with blinding clarity that watching him run out of this alleyway had been the last time she would ever see him alive. The last time she would ever see him radiating that wild and crazy energy that had made her love him right from the start.
Riff. Riff. Oh, Riff.
Riff. She feels hysteria beginning to bubble up inside her as she chases after Velma and Ice, slipping through dark corners and back alleys. Riff. She can't breathe. She'll never be able to breathe again. Riff. They'd just left him there. All alone. Who would take care of him? Where would they take his body? Riff. She wanted Riff.
With every step, her heart fractures a little bit more. The tears she wouldn't, couldn't, shed earlier are threatening to burst forth at any moment.
Riff. He promised. He promised her.
But that had been before.
Riff. He'd never make another promise to her again.
A shiver of horror slithers down her spine.
She would give anything for before.