AT FIRST, NAOMI MORGAN COULD NOT SLEEP. Her eyelids would not shut themselves so easily when The Guise was standing just before her. So instead she trained her eyes on each of them. In her silent observation, she quickly came to the conclusion that they must've not known just how infamous they were outside of this cramped basement.
Sometimes Saint would assert something he thought was important but Chyna would remind him that 'it wasn't that deep'.
But there were families that hated them and people who wrote strongly-worded letters to newspapers about them. Social media was set on fire each time they were spotted and they were the repeated topic of interest in all of California.
Lia would correct Sully's grammar and ensure he recalled the things he could never seem to keep track of (the younger boy always blushed embarrassingly).
But there were citizens of Riverside left up in arms about The Guise's destruction. Mr Morgan hated them. News anchors spoke of them like they were the newest internet trend for kids. Millennials gone wrong. The lost generation.
Of course, Sully often leapt up to say something that he clearly thought was funny, much to the chagrin of Chyna and Lia who hushed him and turned up the television. Saint humoured him though, crossing his legs on the floor to take in every word the younger boy said to him as if it was his life's mission. Cairo, on the other hand, never got up from his far corner; but he never had to. At one point or another, they all walked over to him, whispering things that Naomi didn't think she was supposed to hear. Except for Lia, who only stared intently at the screen alongside him. Naomi suspected, words weren't ever needed anyway.
The reckless gang of hooligans that the news anchors and politicians, even her parents, blamed for Riverside's recent ruin, was not even a quarter of the people that stood in front of Naomi Morgan now. A small part of them was reckless, yes. They said things without thought or diligence and did what they liked out of pure intention. A gang, maybe. After all, they did carve loyalty all over their beings like a brand or an arm tattoo. But still, that did not account for all of who they were. Right then, in front of her, they seemed to be made up of so many other infinite things like youth and laughter, a little sadness and hints of sarcasm.
Perhaps, Riverside's ruin had never been their responsibility at all. Perhaps, it was a slow storm that picked up along 6th avenue and drizzled atop rooftops till it became what it was now, and everyone suddenly began to take notice.
Naomi thought of that last when sleep began to whisk her mind away and the exhaustion that her adrenaline had been barring off finally broke free and crushed her eyes closed. That night, she dreamt of her brother when he was much, much younger and bruise-free.
When she woke, she stirred to the sound of multiple footsteps clambering around her. Similarly to her recent days, she was coming out of sleep at some time near noon, but on this morning Naomi actually wanted to be awake. It was a feeling the thought she had long become numb to. Naomi sat upward and stared as The Guise— the real Guise, with masks on and everything—packing duffel bags and backpacks. She wiped the crust from her eyes.
"Morning, sunshine." The Tiger, came to stand over her, a bag on his back and his eyes hidden behind plastic.
"What's going on?"
"Well, Tio's sick of us running him out of business, so we're gonna do some runs and then get food. We should be back before evening."
Her mind was struggling to keep up. She squinted up at the Tiger. "Runs?"
Lia chuckled audibly as she packed her bag. "Don't worry about it," the boy advised, his Tiger mask never once turning away from her.
Cairo tucked his IPad into a bag. "We have to go," he announced stepping toward them. Naomi had only barely heard his words but everyone else perked up at it. Saint nodded once, affirmation settling throughout his body, confidence coming next.
"Alright, remember no phones. Stay close. If you see something, speak. And no one gets left behind." His voice was a lot more like the version she heard on the television now, bold, rebellious and inciting. He turned to her again, "If you need anything, just ask Chyna. She'll stay with you today," he said lowly. Just over the couch Naomi saw a hand pop out and twinkle its little fingers.
Naomi muttered something in agreement as they moved off, Saint at the front with Cairo, Lia and Sully bouncing into step behind him. The four of them seemed, older somehow. In that moment, she saw the organized lost kids turning Riverside upside down one mural at a time. Then, Naomi heard them all ascend the steps and they left without another word.
She looked over the room, catching Chyna, without a mask, bag, or even proper clothes, looking back at her. "We're kinda out of breakfast, so you'll have to wait till they get back," she said, tucking her hands into her washed-out sweatpants.
Naomi shrugged and wiggled herself out of the sleeping bag. "That's fine. You've done so much already, really."
"Saint has," Chyna corrected as Naomi came toward her, rubbing her eyes, "The rest of us are still on the fence. You haven't really explained much."
"I just—" her thoughts, without willing them to, retraced the outline of Jessica's dead smile and the battling tongues of her father and his mistress. Bile rose in her throat. "I can't go back."
The other girl raised her eyebrows and leaned back against the back of the weathered couch. "Go back where?" Chyna's eyes, Naomi realized, were a lot like Cairo's, cold and wary; and despite being a whole head taller than her, Naomi still found herself cowering beneath her.
"Home," she answered. In her head, the answer had felt heavier but aloud it somehow sounded so light. Meaningless. Pathetic.
The words floated between them for a moment as Chyna's hands came out from her pockets and were crossed under her chest. "You're running away from home?" she asked her.
"It's a lot more complicated than that—"
"No, no, I get it," Chyna bit into her bottom lip, "It's suffocating out there. You think you're free at home but it turns out you're just living in a very well furnished prison cell, right?"
"Right," Naomi whispered.
Chyna nodded. "We're all running away from some sort of home, if we're honest."
Without saying it, Naomi knew she was talking about the rest of The Guise. Were they all like her? Trying to escape the very people who raised them and the very life they once loved live? Naomi thought on it. "Why'd you run away?" she decided to ask.
Chyna chuckled bitterly. It was an answer, it seemed, she had already rehearsed. The words rolled right off her tongue. "My big sister died. After that, it didn't really feel like home anymore. You can't move on from that kind of thing, you know?" She glazed her eyes over the cobwebbed ceiling of the basement all the way to the dusty furniture and empty pizza boxes, "This," she gesticulated, "is my new home."
Naomi stared.
"I get it if you don't want to talk about it right now. But, we need to know...eventually." Secretly, Naomi hoped that day would never come.
Both girls looked at each other. Chyna shrugged. "In the meantime, we have Netflix."
She pointed her thumb behind her at the television and a little smile lit up her face. It was incredible, or insane, how she made the entire atmosphere lift with only a sentence. She turned on the giant television and invited Naomi to join her, which she did, after attempting to fold her sleeping bag and putting it back in the storage closet Saint had taken it from.
"How do you sleep in those things?" Naomi asked when she got back.
Chyna was attentively scrolling through categories. "Oh, we don't. We usually fall asleep on the couch." Naomi plopped down next to her as she continued after a pause, "Well, except Cairo and Sully. Sully knocks out wherever on the ground that's the coldest and Cairo, well, he doesn't sleep."
Chyna pointed at the screen but Naomi shook her head after reading the synopsis. "I don't think he likes me that much," she uttered thoughtfully.
"Nah, he just likes to...know. But he doesn't know you so it's a little hard for him to accept something he doesn't know, you know?"
Naomi wasn't sure how to digest that.
Chyna rolled her eyes at herself. "Okay, that made no sense." The girls laughed."Just give him a chance. Once he sees that you're not like an undercover cop or anything, he'll be fine."
"But what if I am an undercover cop?"
"Well, that's why we keep guns in the floorboards."
Naomi watched her, waiting to see a laugh but Chyna's face was stoic as she flipped through the television. Naomi's eyes widened.
Suddenly, Chyna faced her. "And that's exactly how we know you're not an undercover cop." She chuckled. Naomi rolled her eyes.
They had clicked away at the remote again and again but each time Naomi made a disapproving sound. Offended, Chyna finally put it down. "Okay," she started, "what do you like?" Naomi opened her mouth. "And don't say ballet." She shut it again. Chyna gaped widely. She launched into uttering variations of you're kidding before landing on a full and coherent sentence. "Okay, what kind of music do you like? Who's your favourite artist." Naomi thought and thought but, thankfully, Chyna kept speaking. "Chance the rapper?"
"Who?"
Chyna swallowed that like a thick pill. "Cardi B?" she asked next.
"I haven't heard too much of her yet."
Chyna made a face that said 'progress'. Then she tried again. "Beyonce?" she squinted one eye as if she was about to step on upright needles.
But Naomi lit up. "Yes!"
Chyna copied her immediately. "Yes!" Wide-eyed they stared at each other. "Good, now we're getting somewhere." She laughed and hugged her. "I don't have to kick you out.' Naomi laughed loudly. "Don't laugh, girl. You were this close." But she herself, was laughing and Naomi completely forgot that she was in a basement under a trap door of some Taco Shop. Chyna scrolled quickly through Netflix. "Ok so, if you love Beyonce, you'll love this."
It seemed interesting enough. How to Get Away With Murder. Recognizing the unfamiliar look on Naomi's face, Chyna nodded. "Good. Season one," she said and clicked play.
*
They were halfway through season one when the girls realized that they weren't really that different. Michaela was undoubtedly their favourite character and Naomi compared herself to her. Chyna teased that she was more of a Bonnie. Naomi was livid. They hadn't realized it, but Riverside had seen morning, noon and evening while they were busy laughing at the television screen and unravelling each other like endless rolls of satin.
"Why'd you perm your hair?" Chyna once asked.
Naomi struggled with her answer for a period a little too long. She supposed, at the end of it, she didn't quite have an answer. There was no 'why' she permed her hair, it just happened. In ballet it was the norm, she guessed. There was no option. If you danced, your entire body must become like your routines, sharp and predictable.
For a similar reason, Chyna decided not to perm her hair. She loved to grow it out and perming it never felt like an option. Especially after she joined the Guise with nothing but a can of spray paint and a backpack. If she lived life one hour at a time and tagged political statements on walls and skyscrapers, in the same way, her hair had to be loud and unfathomable.
In spite of the outcome however, it was brilliant how strikingly different they both were. Where they lived, what they did and how they did it. Yet, in the same breath, so unmistakably alike. They both over-shared. But it never once felt like they were opening wounds. It was more like opening gifts. Whether it was because they might never see each other ever again, or because their eyes levelled and they hoped that they would, Naomi did not know.
Well into the evening, Chyna asked "So you're planning to stay here then? With us?"
Naomi shrugged. "I don't know," Immediately she remembered this morning. "Everyone left to do— well, Guise-stuff, right."
Chyna chuckled. "Something like that."
"And you're stuck babysitting," she stated.
"It's not so bad." And from there, the conversation seemed dwindling and so was Naomi's eyes as the television played.
They sat next each other, bodies sunken as far as the worn leather of the sofa would allow like skeletons set deep into Egyptian sand. But the ease did not linger on their bones for too long. The moon didn't come to shush them into silence. It didn't have the chance.
Chyna and Naomi heard the raging voices before they heard the hurried footsteps clamber down into the basement. Both girls sat up and turned quickly enough to catch Cairo rush towards them. Vengeance was in his eyes and it was hiding something else but everyone stayed back anyway, even Saint. His tiger mask was in his hands and his nose flared, shaking his head. Not once did he look at Naomi.
Cairo unearthed a sheet of paper form his back-pockets when he got to them and Naomi stood to confront him. She wasn't ready yesterday, but today she could feel chaos bubbling up from her chest and sizzling sharp words onto her tongue. The boy looked her in her eyes and thrust the paper into her chest. His jaw set and his eyes burned into her skin before he opened his mouth. "You need to leave. Now."
Chyna got up then, looking at the faces of her friends contort like a sickness. "What's going on?:
Naomi unfolded the page and immediately saw herself looking into a broken mirror. The person staring back at her on the paper was indeed her, but a different version. A version that was happier, smiling in a compression shirt and tights, standing en pointe to some invisible music. The rest of the page read:
Missing: Naomi Morgan
Beloved Daughter, Friend and Dancer
Help us get our baby back!
If seen please call!
Author's Note
Petition for Naomi to just get a break...
This week's dedication goes to a great reader of mine who I actually miss @CoilyWriter! Guys, she was always in my comments and voting and just showing so much love like where did you go? Come backkkkk! If you vote and comment the next dedication could literally be you so what are you doing? Tell me your thoughts and click that star!
Life is crazy, readers. Naomi's is perhaps the craziest. What does this mean for her? Will she go back? Will she stay with The Guise? Will she run away again? The possibilities... let me know your theories in the comments below!
IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...
Cairo laughed. The sound of it in her face, loud and heartily, accentuated by the impossible look in they boy's eyes and the stillness of everyone else in the room. "Tell us! Please, tell us, you self-absorbed, attention-seeking, little...