Nico's P.O.V

"Nico, don't you dare drop that box, it's got the glassware in it!" Reyna shouts at me as I stumble. Geez, only the first day moving into the new apartment and she's already bossing me around. Why did I think this was a good idea?

After too-many-to-count trips up the stairs to the third floor- damn that broken elevator- we're done. At least, done bringing up boxes from the U-Haul. Reyna and I stand in the sea of boxes in our new living room, with nothing unpacked but the futon.

"Hey, Rey, which box has the food in it?"

"Uuuuuuuum…" She spins in one slow circle, obviously as oblivious as me.

"Pizza?"

"Pizza."

I take out my phone, already having Little Caesars on speed dial. I just hope they're still open at half past eleven. I breathe a sigh of relief when the line clicks on and order a half pepperoni, half vegetarian pizza, for Reyna's special needs. The guy gives me a twenty five minutes delivery time, I thank him, and hang up.

I go back out into the living room, weaving my way through a cardboard jungle. Reyna is sprawled on the futon, looking as worn out as i feel. She's cradling a bottle of Coca-Cola like it's a lifeline and I can't help but laugh.

"Found some soda, I see?" I ask, holding back another chuckle as she shoots me a dirty look.

"Yes. And you're gonna half to fight me to get me to share."

I roll my eyes and shove her over, making room for myself on the couch (That's just what we call the futon even though we couldn't afford an actual sofa, sue me). She huffs and props her feet up on my lap, scrolling through something on her phone. I try to shove them off and she shoots me another glare, so I leave them be.

"Pizza will be here in 'bout twenty," I say.

"Cool."

"I got it half veggy for you."

"Thanks."

Seeing that she's immersed in her phone and seemingly not in the mood to chat, I pull out mine as well. I scan a few twitter notifications before hopping on my tumblr. Before I know it, five 'tumblr minutes' have passed and the pizza guy is knocking on our door (Which is friggin' sunshine yellow, I have to mention).

"Move it, Rey." I say, finally succeeding in removing her bare legs. Her shorts are probably a bit too short for mid fall in New York, I would say something but...The last time I commented on her clothes she locked me out of the L.A. house for the night. My punishments never come lightly, my best friend is ruthless. The thought makes me think of Hylla. I miss her already. She's the only one that could even slightly control Rey.

Upon opening the door, I lay eyes on a scrawny Latino boy with a mess of brown curls. He gives me a smirk and says;

"Little Caesars, hot and ready. And I'm not just talking about the pizza."

My jaw legitimately drops and I feel heat rising in my face. Any words that may have come stick in my throat. Thankfully, Reyna comes to my rescue, waving about a twenty dollar bill.

"How charming. Can I get my pizza or what?" She pushes me backward, almost causing me to trip over- of course- a cardboard box.

"Yeah, absolutely." The boy says, batting his eyelashes at her, who continues to scowl. He hands over the box, Reyna gives him the money, and he leaves. He seems more than a little deflated at Reyna's reaction to his 'charm'. I, however, am still standing dumbstruck in our kitchen. Poised over a particular box of glassware. Reyna gives me a sarcastic smile and shoves the box into my chest on her way past.

"ACK!" I squeak as my back hits the breakfast bar. Reyna's look is one between panic and bafflement as I topple sideways. Of course, I quickly jump to my feet and snatch the pizza box away. She's too busy laughing to notice me grab the Coke and flee to our loft bedroom, locking the door behind me. Reyna quickly sobers however, and I come to fear for my life as she pounds on the- you guessed it- bright yellow door.

"Nico di Angelo, open this door. Now." Her voice is deadly calm, and I know I've fucked up. You don't mess with Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano's food. Ever.

"Promise not to brutally murder me and I'll open the door?" I can all but feel her roll her eyes from the other side of the wood, accompanied by a sigh.

"I just want dinner."

I almost believe her as I pull open the door. She strides past me into the mostly empty space, aside from our bare bed frames on the far side. She sinks onto the floor cross-legged and lifts the lid on the box. Carefully, watching her intensely, I sit down too.

"Here, Neeks." Rey holds out a slice of my pepperoni. With the use of that fond nickname, I relax. I may see the light of day again. And then a grease trap of cheese and bright red meat slaps me across the face. It flops into my lap. I know better than to retaliate.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

We spend the rest of our meal in silence, taking turns sipping from the two liter. After a few slices, Reyna goes to take a shower and I set the leftover pizza aside for breakfast tomorrow. Alone with my thoughts, I break out my acoustic guitar, strumming a few things. It thrums deep, through my fingertips, up my arms, and into my chest. I give a half grin, stroking the mottled finish of black, cobalt blue, and royal purple. The colors fade perfectly into each other, looking like a night sky. My pride and joy. The thing that'd kept me alive.

"Do you really know how to play that thing?" Reyna's standing in the doorway in a sports bra and boxers, her long, dark hair dripping onto the dark laminate floors.

"Yeah. My dad taught me before he...left." My father left when I was young, right after my mom died, seemingly vanishing off the face of the planet. His disappearance had my older sister and me in foster care.

"What can you play?" She's known me long enough not to bring up the topic of family. And I the same for her. Neither of us likes to talk about our screwed up pasts.

"Um, I can play a little bit of Boulevard of Broken Dreams. And Viva la Vida." I play them for her and she nods with satisfaction.

"Is that what you used? To get the money to move us here?" They're meant to be questions, but I have a feeling she already knows the answer. So I simply nod.

"Pop actually did leave something of value. He left me a ticket out." I pat the neck of the guitar before zipping it back into its case. Silently, Reyna and I wander down into the living room, laying out on the futon. We curl up on opposite sides and Reyna immediately passes out. I lay my aviator jacket over her, since she has goose bumps up and down her arms and legs. Told ya, I think to myself, bunching up a Westover Hall hoodie that used to be my sisters to use as a pillow. I flinch involuntarily at the thought, burying my face in the soft fabric. I'm snoring almost as quickly as Reyna.

Wiz: Hey, guys!

Sparks: Hola.

Wiz: This chapter is really just the boring getting-to-know-my-hella-OOC Nico and Reyna. I'll work on that. Do you like it so far? Don't worry if you're confused on the background of the two, it'll clear up pretty quick. It's meant to be mysterious.

Sparks: Are you gonna clear up the writing situation?

Wiz: Right. So, I do the brunt of the writing (All of it) and Sparks is mostly plot ideas and inspiration when I have writers block. She's also the older sister of the two of us.

Sparks: Is true. I don't have the actual patience to write. That's Wiz's job.

Wiz: Truth. It's my life goal. Anyways…

Sparks: Yes! Leave a review and tell us what you think! Predictions, suggestions, questions…Tell. Us. Everything.

Wiz: Yea, please do. But flame and so help me God's… Oh! And don't expect a schedule from me just yet. Maybe I'll get around to one once summer starts but… doubtful. Okay, bye!