【 encino hills, 2018 】
━━ tw mentions of suicide

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━━ Stevie was relieved that Johnny had called it a day earlier than usual. He was getting on her nerves a little more so than usual. She didn't care about that Eli kid, but even she could acknowledge that Johnny was being especially dickish. The class had cleared out quickly, and Stevie would not be surprised in the slightest if they were back to where they started.

Only Miguel and Aisha. Stevie, herself, found it a tiresome debate with herself. She had only joined because she was getting so angry and short-tempered. But witnessing Johnny's "teaching" made her feel even worse.

Stevie didn't like the feeling. She felt less like Svetlana, who was poised and put together. Svetlana was smart and she was patient and she didn't lash out. Her anger was focused in on the fights: the sparring, the training, the testing.

If someone had to meet her violent touch, Svetlana saved it for the tests. She took the hits early on, and she dished it out better than anyone.

But Stevie didn't feel like Svetlana.

Stevie felt like Irina.

Irina, who was messy and fiery. Irina, who was only alive for two reasons.

One was that she got the job done: Stevie would give her that. Regardless of whether she got half of the team killed in the process, she completed the mission. She knew it got on the nerves of Madame V, but General Dreykov didn't put much stock into the lives of the girls. If they had to die for the mission, he was not about to lose sleep over it.

The other reason was her.

Svetlana specifically. ( This new California version living as Stevie would never put herself in that position again. Not for Irina. Not for anyone. )

Because, despite Vasilisa's warnings, Svetlana trusted Irina.

From the beginning, they had proven themselves to be the girls with the most promise. The girls with the best chance to survive the rounds, and rise up the ranks in the Red Room. It was only natural that they looked to each other. That they began to find comfort in each other.

Irina had a lot of weight on her shoulders ... as the oldest of the remaining girls, she was expected to lead the team. Svetlana saw through the cavalier attitude, and was willing to help shoulder the burden. She was not the most astute one of the group, and she had her own responsibilities placed on her, but still, she had tried.

Madame V had been right.

Because as soon as it was Svetlana who had been forced to take on that additional burden as the team leader, Irina had not been there. Svetlana was burning alive, and it hadn't been enough for Irina to just watch her burn, she had thrown the gasoline.

For every thing Svetlana did well, Irina did ten things terribly. Not in a way that would get her killed, but in a way that forced Svetlana on her knees and had her answering to Dreykov.

Stevie sniffed roughly, focused more on slipping her shoes back on.

There were certain things that were better left in the past.

She grabbed her bag, and exited the dojo. She took out a phone, seeing that she had a missed call from a number she didn't recognize. The area code was one she didn't recognize, which put her on edge. She went between the idea of calling the number back to see what it was, or if she should just go ahead and dump it. Nestor would probably have a spare flip phone she could buy, they were typically cheap enough.

Before Stevie could make a decision, the door opened behind her and she saw Aisha come out, looking guilty. She slyly shoved the flip phone into her back pocket as she looked at the girl with narrow eyes.

"What did you do?"

Aisha looked between Stevie and a sleek black car, then back at Stevie. She was shaking her head, mouthing a silent apology. Stevie was deeply confused as a woman that she recognized to be Aisha's mother looked at her daughter before suddenly pulling Stevie in for a hug.

Stevie stiffened up like a corpse. Her shoulders were tense as her arms were glued to her side. Stevie was glaring at Aisha with wide eyes over her mother's shoulder. Aisha kept shaking her head and giving her silent apologies, but she was having none of it. In the midst of Robinson matriarch thanking her, Stevie was responding to Aisha by making silent threats against her life.

You are dead.

I am going to kill you.

I will slit your throat.

Stevie's teeth were bared the entire time as she mouthed the words to her. Her lips only quirked up in the most painfully fake smile she had ever given as Aisha's mother pulled back.

She kept going between thanking Stevie ( for some godforsaken reasons that left the girl in question deeply lost ) and babying Aisha, thanking her for the wonderful idea.

Whatever that wonderful idea is, it is making Stevie debate running away and starting all over again.

Aisha's mother looked over at Stevie, "Please get in the car, Aisha's father and I ... have a small gift for you." Without looking back, she hopped in the driver's seat, and Stevie glared at Aisha with no restraint.

"What the fuck was that?" Stevie gritted out, the fake smile had yet to drop.

"I am so sorry," Aisha looked deeply embarrassed by the show her mother gave, "but please get in the car."

"I'm gonna kill you."

Aisha shook her head, the guilt remained on her face, "Okay, that's fine, please just get in the car."

"What could you possibly have that would make me want to get in the car?" Stevie questioned. Aisha's mother honked the horn, and if her gun had been in her waistband rather than her backpack, she was pretty sure she would have shot her.

Instead, the tension reinforced itself into her body.

Stevie maintained a glare at Aisha, as she walked behind her. Nonetheless, the promise of a gift was tempting. And if worse comes to worse ... nobody can get themselves out of a situation quite like she could.

Aisha opened the door and offered for Stevie to get into the car first. She had to take a slow, uneven breath before pulling herself in. Her jaw set when she saw Aisha sit in the back with her. She looked at Stevie like she was going to jump out of the backseat. ( She would, but that's besides the point. )

Despite how on edge this surprise ... thing made her with Aisha ( she hesitated to call this kidnapping, for obvious reasons ), Stevie did find herself liking the girl more than most people she liked in California. ( It wasn't exactly a difficult honor to achieve, for she despised almost every person she came across in this godforsaken state. )

Aisha's mother occasionally tried to ask Stevie questions about herself, but her daughter tried to interject. The few times her mother pushed, Stevie offered concise answers using the fewest words possible. She could see how Aisha's mother looked into the rearview mirror, looking as if she was silently asking Aisha if she was serious about this girl. Aisha gave subtle, vaguely exasperated nods before they sat silently in the car. The radio played quietly in the background.

Stevie's confusion only grew as they pulled into LaRusso Auto. She looked over at Aisha to see if she knew what this was, but she avoided Stevie's eyes. When Aisha's mother pulled into a parking spot, she turned to look back at Stevie.

She swallowed before she began to speak, her voice a little shaky, "Stevie, I ... understand that this is surprising. However, Aisha has told us so much about how much you helped her out this year."

Stevie felt totally blindsided by the admission. She knew Aisha wasn't exactly having a great time at school, especially with the vitriol flung at her in the halls, but she didn't understand what garnered this kind of reaction from Aisha's mother of all people.

She continued, "Aisha also told us about how far it is for you between your apartment and the high school ... and that you don't have the means to get there safely."

Stevie blinked.

So they wanted to get her a car?

She felt deeply uncomfortable, and like she genuinely wanted to kill Aisha for this. She remembered Miguel telling her about a project she had done with her earlier in the year, and she thought she was going to kill him too. Because as far as she was aware, Miguel was the only person who knew where she lived and knew her minimal lifestyle and had the potential to tell Aisha.

"I'm okay," Stevie cut her off before she took a calming breath, sounding more put together than she initially had been, "I'm not in a position to be making these types of payments."

Before her mother could continue, Aisha interjected, "Mom, can I have a minute with Stevie?" The woman was hesitant, but agreed. She climbed out of the car, and as soon as the door closed, Stevie whipped her head around.

"Aisha, what the actual fuck is this? A car? Have you lost your brains?" Stevie couldn't even think of the correct translation in her head in the midst of this.

Aisha let out a shaky breath that made Stevie pause, "...Aisha?"

"I was in ... therapy after the Halloween dance," It took Stevie a second to remember when that was since she wasn't ever in a position to know anything about the holiday, "I..."

Aisha seemed to struggle with the words, "People all over social media were telling me ... that I was a waste of space ... and ... and I started to believe it."

Stevie paused for a minute before she nodded slowly, as to let Aisha continue, "Anyways, my mom read my journal and ... your name popped up."

"God, this is embarrassing," she shut her eyes and tilted her head back before she was able to bring herself to continue, "You ... defended me ... more than anyone in the school ever has. So, to my parents, you are one of the reasons that they didn't have to bury me. Which meant this felt like the least that they could do."

Stevie watched her silently. It was an unfortunately familiar feeling: the idea that death was an easier alternative. She had spent her entire childhood, afraid of it. Even now, when her crimes were so vivid in her memory, when she had never felt as if she deserved something more, Stevie remained scared of dying.

The only time she had wished for it was when she was in the chair. 

Stevie never had somebody confide in her like this, and she had never confided in anyone. This was all very new to her, and somewhat overwhelming. With a hesitant hand, she slowly went to rest it on Aisha's forearm. Stevie never opened her mouth, but that moment said everything she needed to say.

When Aisha gave her a melancholy smile, like she understood, Stevie removed her hand, "I don't like cars."

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━━ Stevie's eyes darted around the facility, hating every second she spent in here. She had figured that, due to their daughters' friendship, the Robinsons and LaRussos knew each other. However, they had been talking about the stupidest shit. Shit Stevie didn't bother eavesdropping on. 

It had been easy enough to sneak away from the office, wandering around the showroom.

Stevie looked at all the shiny cars, reminiscing over ones she had stolen over the years. Some of them crashed and scrapped for parts, others with ripped upholstery after it was stained with their blood. She admired this sleek black car that reminded her of a car she had hijacked in Rome, running a finger along the car door. 

"Do you mind?" A voice from behind her sounded rather irritated. 

Stevie recognized his voice before she recognized his reflection. She had heard that same voice in the courtyard, yelling at Johnny for what a loser he was and whatnot. She turned around to see Robby Keene in the flesh, who widened his eyes slightly.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I just—I just cleaned, so ... I'm sorry for snapping."

Stevie shrugged it off. It was far from the worst thing she had heard. She walked around the cars, but her eyes lingered on the motorcycles. If there was something she missed, something that she could associate with freedom in a positive, it was her motorcycle. 

She had yet to lose her shadow, "Do you need something, or are you just stalking me?" Stevie recognized coincidence when she came across it, but it was hard to ignore when he was pausing from his cleaning a car away, every single time she moved. 

Robby Keene was clearly not very good at lying, "I, uh—I'm not..." The side eye she gave was enough to stop him in his tracks. 

"Stevie?" The girl in question looked over to see Aisha trying to call her back. Without looking back, Stevie snuck back over like she had remained in that corner the entire time.

Daniel LaRusso asked Stevie for her driver's license, and she pulled out the fake ID that she had received from her contacts last year before asking about things she's looking for. Stevie looked over to Aisha for a second before biting the bullet.

"A motorcycle," Stevie answered, "I got into a lot of car accidents when I was younger ( a half truth ). I feel better on a bike." She had a Class M license, which meant it shouldn't be a problem for her to get. She also didn't have expensive taste, she liked her bikes sleek and small.

Aisha's parents looked uncomfortable with the idea, and she didn't get why, but she can play the ❛ no questions asked ❜ card, "My parents died in a car accident. It was bad. I'd feel better with a bike, if you insist on this ... generous gift."

"Which we do," Aisha stressed to her parents with wide eyes. 

They were at a standstill for a moment, the girls and the owner waiting for the Robinson's decision. Aisha's father eventually nodded in agreement before Daniel LaRusso followed suit with a small smile. He called one of his employees to show Stevie some of the motorcycles within the Robinson's budget.

Stevie found the man, Louis, deeply obnoxious, talking about ❝ how great he is at motorcycles ❞ and whatnot. She had attained the impressive skill of tuning the majority of his words out, while listening just enough to know if there was something important enough to store away.

She walked through the motorcycle lot when a bike caught her eye. Stevie walked over to it, leaving Louis behind. Her breath hitched. This was the exact model of bike that she had always driven during her time in the Academy. Stevie admired it, running her fingers over the handles and the leather seat. 

She could picture herself on the back of this, feeling a sense of freedom that she had been robbed of for over a decade. The thought almost brought a smile to her face.

Stevie looked over to Louis, who was so distracted by the sound of his own voice, that he didn't even realize that she had wandered off until she called his name, "Is this one within budget?"

Louis looked so confused, Stevie thought maybe running him over could potentially unlock something in his brain. A sharp whistle broke the staring contest she was unwillingly participating in, and she threw her hand up quickly. A set of keys landed in it. 

"Go ahead and take a seat," Daniel LaRusso told her, as he walked over, "See how it feels."

Stevie easily kicked her leg over the seat, as she had done hundreds of times before. She let out this breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It felt like a weight was off her chest, and she gave the most exhilarated sigh. If you listened closely enough, one might even mistake it for a very, very, very weak laugh. 

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━━ Stevie could spend hours on this bike. She couldn't even remember the last time she smiled like this. 

God forbid, laughed like this. 

Stevie didn't think happiness like this would ever be in reach for her. She didn't think she would feel this genuine feeling of freedom again. It weighed on her so heavily all of the time, and just for that moment, she could leave it in the wind.

She pulled up to the sidewalk, and pulled her helmet off. 

It started with an unsteady breath before it turned into the most blissful laugh. Stevie leaned forward, her body shaking, as she rested her head against the handles. 

Once Stevie could get the giggles under control, she grabbed the keys and the helmet hanging loosely from her fingers before slipping off of the m—her motorcycle.

In the back of her mind, Stevie knew she owed Aisha and her parents like crazy, despite their refusal. As unnerving as her parents found Stevie, her smile lit her face up and it was hard to deny that, especially when they were plenty comfortable financially.

Stevie walked through the courtyard with a relaxed smile, and saw Miguel pacing back and forth, "You good, Diaz?"

Miguel paused, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. This version of Stevie made it harder. He had plans upon plans, all of which fell through. 

Miguel was going to ask Stevie on the walk back to their apartments, before Aisha kidnapped her. Next, he had pivoted and picked wildflowers on the way home while rehearsing his speech, but she had been gone for hours and he accidentally stepped on them. Then, he made llapingachos, since he knew that was one of Stevie's favorite foods that she received from him. But that also got cold.

And in every iteration, Miguel expected standard Stevie, who looked at him with vague disinterest rather than complete disinterest. Not this girl who looked like the weight of the world had fallen off of her, and was smiling. 

It was strange. 

Miguel could see that Stevie was a little nicer to him, a little softer around him, but that wasn't saying much. But she was smiling at him like she was seeing him in a different light.

"Stevie..." Miguel swallowed thickly, looking between her face and her shoes, "I want to ask you ... on a date. I totally get it if not, but I really li—"

"Okay."

"—know that you are probably way out of my—what?" Miguel tripped up on his words as Stevie walked up to the apartment door, keys in hand.

"Saturday. Eight o'clock," the door of her apartment was open as she looked back, her easy smile lingering, "See you then."

Stevie then closed the door softly. She leaned against it as she smiled at her reflection in her helmet, not hating what she saw for once.

━━ apparently i would rather die than actually write, but nevertheless, she persisted

━━ i am not proud of this chapter. i actually hate this and don't feel like it's good at all, but i have scrapped too many drafts for too freaking long and i'm at this point where idgaf anymore.

━━ as an apology for the months it has been, i give you a longer chapter and mevie becoming officialish.