Riff's a bad guy. There's no denying it. Rough around the edges, growing up in a bad neighbourhood, taught some real nasty values from his momma. But the one thing he had throughout it all was you. The girl across the hall that helped lil' ol' him carry his groceries up the stairs when his mother was more worried about finding the bottom of a bottle than putting food on the table. The very same one who sat on his mattress on the floor to teach him how to read. The girl who—

Okay, you get the point. You're important to him. The silver lining to his dark cloud of a life.

But over the years he's come to realise you're too precious to be stuck around him. A real beautiful young woman now, one who doesn't deserved to be whistled at by his Jets or looked down upon for the people you hang around with. He doesn't care about being judged, not one damn bit. You, on the other hand... bless your heart, he just couldn't watch it anymore.

So he cut you off. Rather abruptly, too. Moved into the basement under Doc's with Tony and left his momma to her own devices. It broke his damn heart to do it. Broke yours, too, but you've always been sunshine and rainbows. He's caught glimpses of you around the city; you look good, he thinks. Better off without him.

... Until he's strolling down the street, crossing the road without a care in the world, and catches sight of you outside some corner shop. Speaking to a Shark, no less, smiling up at him—Indio, he thinks his name is.

Oh, hell no. He scoffs in disbelief, dropping his cigarette to smother it under the toe of his shoe before making a beeline right for the pair of you. Not on his fuckin' watch.

"Hey! Whaddya think you're doin', lil' lady?" He barks out. The bewildered look you send in his direction is almost comedic. Lil' lady, he calls you, as if he hasn't avoided you like the plague for the last two months. Oh, well. He doesn't wait for a reply either way.

"You oughta scram, bud," he sneers, tilting his head up to look at the other man.