Who Knows || Riff (West Side Story 2021)

Chapter 10

𝟾. 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝟷𝟿𝟻𝟼

When Rose was sixteen, the last of her three older brothers moved out. Officially, in their eyes, she was a grown up, and would need to settle down and get married. That was why the apartment was primarily taken care of by her. They thought she was in dire need of a husband.

However, two years later, there she was. Rose was still without a boyfriend, and her first kiss.

Many of the Everly girls friends had told her about their first kiss, and it made Rose wonder. Wasn't she pretty enough to be kissed? Wasn't she the perfect type for a wife?

Of course Rose was pretty enough, she was grievous inside out. That didn't mean anything in society, most of the time. Rose Everly was a beautiful person, but no one ever saw that.

Maybe that was why she was sat alone, in her apartment, on a Saturday night. Most of her other friends would be with their budding families, and the ones that weren't, would be having fun. So why wasn't Rose? Why was Rose home alone?

Because she wanted to be.

The Everly girl had never been one to conform, and she wasn't going to start now. Instead, she sat on her sofa, reading her yellow covered copy of Sense and Sensibility. After all, Jane Austen was one of the best writers, and Rose loved her work passionately.

At some point, she would have to make herself dinner, but she was too comfortable to move. The girl was at that point where the sofa had moulded to fit her perfectly. That way, everything was comfortable, and made it so had to decide what to do.

Maybe thirty minutes later, Rose finally got up from her chair. When she did, she knew it was finally time to cook herself something. She had little in the apartment, but enough for a decent meal. Anyway, Rose never needed the fancy things; regular food tasted just as good at half the price.

Rose had always known that it wasn't worth paying double the price for something you could get for less somewhere else. She'd been taught by her mother in one of her lectures about how to run a home. Thank God for those lessons: without them, Rose never would've been able to live alone. And live alone in Manhattan at that.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The noise came whilst she was cooking some eggs, and startled her profoundly. Maybe it was nothing, she thought, and continued what she was doing. Rose didn't want to become distracted.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Rose's head snapped in the direction of the guest bedroom. That was where the noise was coming from. Turning off the gas, she stepped away from the hob, and towards the echoing taps. She wanted to know, didn't she?

Getting closer and closer, she pushed open the white painted door. Then, she flicked on the flights. There, at her window, was Riff. Why was he there? He could've come through the front. Couldn't he?

Rose tentatively walked towards the glass, and opened it outwards. The gang member stepped through easily, and instantly, pulled Rose under his arm. He wore a blue vest and jeans of a similar colour.

"Riff, what are you doing here?" The Everly girl worried as she directed them towards the kitchen.

"I wan'ed to see you." He said, in a matter-of-fact way, raising his eyebrows.

"You could've come through the front door." Rose smiled to him, softly. "I would've let you in."

Riff shrugged, a childish grin upon his boney, freckled face. "Where's the fun in that?"

She offered him a seat at her small, family table, and he took it. Leaning back, he eyed up the eggs in Rose's pan, but didn't say anything. The Everly girl could tell he was hungry; say it was a gift.

"Do you want some?" Rose asked, almost cautiously, gesturing to the eggs.

"Yeah, alright." Said he, smiling.

They were together a while, that evening. It was sort of beautiful.

Riff watched as Rose cooked, and they ate together. Snippets of conversations without meaning were littered between delicious mouthfuls, and grins seemed almost permanently plastered onto their lips. Rose had forgotten how she had missed his company. But she loved it more than she liked to admit, if she ever would.

Eventually, Rose decided to say something a little more taboo. Not about the Jets, not specifically.

"Where've you been?"

From her kitchen table, Riff leant forwards, raising an eyebrow. It was meant to intimidate, but it didn't. Not in the way it was supposed to. "Does it matter?"

"It does..." she whispered. Rose wasn't frightened by Riff, not in the slightest, but more the prospect of his injury. "It does." The Everly girl repeated, more confidently. "It matters to me."

"Well..." Riff seemed to take a while to think of something to say, but Rose didn't want to beat around the bush. This would be important one day, she was sure.

"I don't need to know what you're doing, or who you're with." Rose admitted. "I just need to know that you're safe."

From across the table, the gang member stuck out his hand, and placed it on top of Rose's. He squeezed, lightly, and offered a half smile. "I'll be safe." He nodded.

"You promise?"

"Just for you." Riff agreed, happily. "I promise."

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Disclaimer!!!
I do not own West Side Story or the characters originally from the book, play, or musical. I do not own Riff, or any events from the 2021 film that this book is based off. However, I do own Rose, her friends, family, and her relationship with Riff prior to the film.
All of this is purely fictional, anything that relates to real life is purely coincidence.