The Allure of Her - Riff West Side Story -

f o u r

A/N: IMPORTANT: if you read this story when Cordelia was referred to as 'Doll' I changed it to 'Clicky'. I kinda realised Doll was a bit creepy ig and not in character for Riff. Anyway, thanks for all the love so far.

"Mum, can you open the door?" Cordelia whimpered, desperately tugging at the door handle.
"Mum I know you're in there, you can't just keep all my stuff." She was met only with silence.
"Mum, I need it for my apartment."

Abruptly, an array of smashes echoed against the walls. Cordelia began to dejectedly thump on the door pleading for her mother to unbolt the door and spare her belongings which she spent all her own earnings on.

Followed after minutes of unrelenting begging, the door rapidly swung open and her mother greeted her with a wicked chortle.

"Hey hunny, you okay?" She jeered, one arm propping up the door and the other carelessly dangling Cordelia's treasured camera.

"Mum, please, put it down," Cordelia reluctantly paused, trying to carefully choose her words, "don't break it."

"Sorry darling my hearing isn't so good what was that second part?" She inquired, a grin placed on her face.

"Helen, don't break my camera please."

"HELEN?" Cordelia's mum screamed, fury encased her eyes and her arm raised up and following that her hand opened. The camera plunged to the ground, resulting in a giant smash, glass cutting into the exposed flesh on Cordelia's legs, not comparing to the inner ache of her heart.

Helen striked Cordelia on the cheek and with the only remaining time before the door was slammed she scanned the room.

Her clothes were torn to shreds, shoes' soles ripped out, photos with friends were completely shattered.

Cordelia unlocked the door and ambled into her backwater apartment, feeling physically drained. She casted her eye over the apartment, to the objects she was so familiar with the plush sofa, the-

"OH GOD, FUCK!" Cordelia squealed, quickly hiding the blush of embarrassment with her hand and waving to her friend.

"Did the lamp which was turned on and me being your roommate not give you a hint someone might be here?" Florence giggled, looking up at Cordelia with a grin.

"Holy shit what happened to your face? We've only been separated like an hour!" Florence demanded, widening her eyes in concern and running to stand next to her friend.

"More importantly, did Johnny make it to the hospital?" Cordelia deflected, Florence's face immediately shifted.

"Just an uh slight issue with that, he immediately went back to Riff when you were out of eyesight." Florence mumbled, fiddling with the rings on her hand.

"Riff?" Cordelia perked an eyebrow up.

Her stomach tingled, enchanted by just the name of an individual she was completely unaware of.

"Yeah the guy you said you were gonna see at a dance," Florence chuckled and paused, "you're not going right?"

"Did I say I was going?"

"Yes!"

"So I'm going."

"He's the co-founder and main leader of the JETS, Cordelia. Think this through."

"I'm not an idiot alright," Cordelia tried to offer her best reassuring grin, "I'll avoid him and won't reveal every detail of myself, promise he won't know my social security number by the time I'm out. Plus I've got to check on Johnny."

"Okay but I'm walking you there alright, it starts late."

"You would know this how?" Cordelia asked, smirking at her friend.

"A magician never reveals her secrets."

"Does it involve you being incredibly nosy?"

"You called it!"

Florence scavenged through every thread of clothes Cordelia had available in her wardrobe, and finally gave an approving look at a laced, black dress, cinching in the waist at the top piece, and freely flowing at the bottom piece, all neatly tied by a silky ribbon bow tied at the neck.

Cordelia finally sighed in relief, exhausted with her friends over the top, articulate outfit selection process.

Florence provided all the information she'd gathered from eavesdropping, her most handy tool. 10pm is the official meeting time.

Then she gave Cordelia some insight to the Jets egotistical selves. Despite her noticeable disapproval, some details did seem rather sweet, if that could be considered.

Additionally, she gathered from the look on the other Jets faces when told about the dance, she was the first one to be informed, and judging on Riff's cocky smirk, he didn't expect her to be there.

"Holy shit, your face seems to have gotten worse..." Florence gasped, staggering towards her makeup bag and returning to Cordelia who was laying exhausted on the bed.

She examined her face, a bruise formed on her cheek and a cut on her lip, still showing some dried blood, Cordelia clearly having had been completely oblivious to her lip bleeding at all, possibly blacking out a few moments of the fight.

"What a great thing to hear before you're going out, huh?" Cordelia teased, forcing herself to slump upwards so her friend could apply some cover up makeup on her face.

As the clock exhibited the time '9:50' the pair strolled out into the streets of New York, Cordelia following Florence for any sense of navigation, having no concept of where 'the Dance' is supposedly located.

As they approached a large structure and Florence promptly stopped Cordelia shrugged and assumed this was the right place.

"Be safe, don't drink or anything, you know you're a lightweight!" Florence remarked, chuckling. She gave a wink and hug of luck to Cordelia, who stood there slightly nervous, awkwardly smiling to Florence, and began to journey back home.

She observed the grey-wollen threads of sky weaved together, dark shadows threatening to spill rain, the moon began to peak behind a grand, downy, flocculent looking cloud.

Cordelia began to run her fingers through her hair, her head pounding with tension, beating rapidly like the build up of a drumroll. She glanced furtively over her shoulder, nobody would expect her to actually show up.

Allowing the usage of her building up adrenaline, she could freely run back home, wherever the hell that was.

Sullenly, she glanced back to the daunting doors, they seemed towering over her. She was aware how slightly late she was by the music playing, sounding like a melody of mockery.

Breaking her out of her relentless stare down with the door was a light tap on her shoulder, she visually jumped and spinned around.

"Cordelia? Wouldn't have expected you to be much of a dancer."

"Hey, I do more than just lurk around Doc's hanging out with Valentina," Cordelia declared with a chuckle, "So what are you doing here, Tony?"

"Riff got me here, for a 'social mixer'."

"That name is trending today." Cordelia sighed, and with all her might and willpower, decisively opened the door, grinning at Tony.

She was ready to face tonight.