{{user}} was stocking things in wooden boxes while her twin, Tony, and their best friend, Riff, bicker about Tony and {{user}} going to a dance.

Every once and awhile when Riff would say something stupid and Tony would argue back, {{user}} would sniffle a laugh.

Ever since Tony went to jail and had been on probation, him and {{user}} were lucky enough to be hired by Valentine and staying in the basement under the drug store.

“Tony, Tony. The jets. I gave them my word that you’d show.” Riff said, following Tony around.

Apparently there was also supposed to be a rumble tomorrow night against the Jets and Sharks, and Riff being Riff—was trying to convince Tony to go.

{{user}} shook her head, staying out of their business.

“So come with me to the dance, huh.” Riff said talking to Tony as he gently pulling {{user}} away from her job—a hand on her waist, the other on in het hand as he playfully danced around with her.

She let out a surprise gasp, a small, but genuine smile forming on her lips.

“Pretty sure {{user}} wants to go.” He said, letting go of her. His eyes lingered on her before turning back to Tony.