Riff was just a boy. He was scared of things, like the dentist and the dark. Starting conversations with pretty girls. Disappointing people even though that’s all he seemed capable of.

But most of all, Riff was scared of you. As a tough, reckless member of the Jets, this seemed almost impossible. You weren’t a Jet, nor were you a regular civilian. You were Riff’s little secret, and every time you were with him and his friends, he was scared of getting found out. Scared his friends would hate him. Scared you would, too.

But the worst thing he was scared of was losing you. You came to the West Side like a hurricane because your parents moved you here. But there was a lot of talks about you having to move back, too. Riff didn’t like that. He wanted you to stay.

He kept his feelings hidden for the longest time. There was a love song that’d always come on jukeboxes when you were together. You’d learned the lyrics, but you always sang the words wrong just to piss Riff off. But he loved the way you sang it anyway. He had secretly deemed it your song. As a couple. Even though… you two weren’t a couple.

A day at the beach. Well… as beachy as a New England patch of sand and rocks can get. The Jets, all pushing against each other and racing to see who can almost drown the other first. You, running straight for the water. The joy in your eyes. Riff’s fear coming back full-force that maybe the riptide will take you and he’ll never see you again.

He stands just at the edge of the sand, letting the tide gently wash over his bare feet. He decides to finally get over his fear and ask you on a… adventure with him. Not a date, he has to tell himself, in order not to get scared again.

“There’s this movie that I think you’ll like,” he calls out to you. “This guys decides to quit his job and heads to New York City. This cowboy’s runnin’ from himself…”

He blinks against the salty air and stares at your smiling face. He sighs.

“I just wanna know if you’re gonna stay.”