A New Way of Living

Chapter Seven

Author's Note: I do not own West Side Story or any elements of it.

A week or so passed, and Vivienne heard nothing from the Jets.

She had a sneaking suspicion that this is how it might go. No word for an extended amount of time until they suddenly decided that they needed her and then they would drop into her world as soon as they felt like it. She figured she may as well enjoy her time alone whilst she could.

Safely back in her apartment and with the rent for that month paid up, everything seemed to be back in alignment for now.

It was the weekend, and she decided to take the afternoon off from studying to go for a walk and pick up some groceries. By the time she returned home, the sky was turning dark grey and the streetlamps clicked on one by one.

When she reached her building, she climbed the steps and unlocked her door.

Stepping inside, she almost dropped her goods.

Around her kitchen table, a handful of Jets sat around. They turned around to look at her. Riff walked out of her living room, and stopped when he saw her.

"Hey," he said, pointing at her. "You're back. Where you been?"

Vivienne didn't answer, instead walking over to place her grocery bag aggressively down onto the counter. She spun around and glared at them.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded. "I know I locked the door."

"You sure?" the one she knew as Action replied. "Seems to me like you didn't."

"Yeah," Ice added. "'Cause I think it if were locked, you wouldn't get people breakin' in."

"He's right," Riff grinned. He walked over and leaned against the kitchen counter. "You should really be more careful."

"Okay, cut it out," she snapped. "You can't just break into my apartment. People are gonna see you and call the cops or something. I thought this was supposed to be a quiet arrangement."

"Nobody saw us," Mouthpiece shrugged. "We were careful."

"I don't care. This is my place. I need to have some boundaries."

With that, she stormed past them and flung open the door to her window.

"Get in here," she called back to them, searching around her room for the thing she knew she wanted.

Behind her, she could hear the scraping of chairs that signalled their movements. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing that they were all in her doorway now, looking into her bedroom with both curiosity and an almost reluctance to enter. Finally, she found an old red silk scarf that she was searching for, tucked underneath a pile of books. She walked over to the window and pinned it against the wood by hanging it on a couple of rusty nails that stuck out dangerously.

"Okay," she sighed, stepping back. She pointed to the now covered window. "New rule. When this is up, it means that you can't just come up here. Consider it my out of office hours. The only time you should ever come and bother me when this is up is if it's a genuine life or death medical emergency. When it's down, then you can come up. Got it?"

She watched as the Jets look up to Riff, searching for his approval. Riff looked at the window and pursed his lips, before giving a quick nod.

"You got it," he replied, which surprised her.

"Great," she said slowly, almost unsure of his immediate acceptance. "Now...what's the problem?"

Action reached over and pulled the younger one, Baby John, out from behind the fridge. She wasn't even sure she'd seen him the first time.