#carmy really is a mess in good and bad ways all at once

[blairwaldcrf]

so after finishing the bear s2.... sydney/carmy really pulled through with the steamy scene under the table in that last episode?

while I still think Marcus and Claire are really great love interests for them separately with great chemistry, I think the seeds are finally being planted deeper for a meaningful Sydney/Carmy connection that isn't just culinary soulmates.

like Carmy acknowledging to Sydney that he doesn't want to be shitty with how he doesn't prioritize their partnership, or Carmy realizing he doesn't even know something as basic about Sydney like that her mom is dead. Sydney feeling like she might be lashing out because she's jealous, but also frustrated that Carmy didn't even tell her Claire existed. Sydney being awkward with Marcus after turning him down only to almost immediately have the charged tension scene with Carmy. Carmy having a panic attack over his feelings for Claire scaring him out of his mind only to calm down at the thought of Sydney.

I gotta say, I could see them being great down the road??

[wannabeschyulersister]

sleepy berzatto

Part of you didn’t want to wake him up. He looked so peaceful as he slept. For once, the anxieties of the day couldn’t mess with him.

He was still in his work clothes. You could tell that he meant to just rest his eyes for a few minutes before he fell into a deeper sleep. He was supposed to pick you up from the airport when your flight got in.

You touched his head lightly brushing his hair away from his face. It stirred him awake.

“(Y/n)?” He mumbled. He felt like he was in a dream.

“Yeah, it’s me, Carmy.”

When the realization hit, Carmen quickly stood up from the couch stumbling a bit. He was clearly still half asleep, “Fuck! I fell asleep. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Baby. I didn’t mean to-“

You reached out to steady him, “Carmen, relax. Michelle sent a car for me. They didn’t want to wake you.”

He took a deep breath and pulled you closer to him, “I’m sorry.” It felt so nice to be in his arms after weeks of not seeing him.

“Don’t be. I made it safely. We’re together again. That’s all that matters.” You rubbed your hand soothingly on his back. You didn’t want him stressing at all during your visit.

“How was your flight?” He asked as you took your coat off.

“It was fine. I read for most of it. I had the whole row to myself.”

He grabbed your coat and went to set it on the hook near the door. When he joined you on the couch, he quickly captured your lips with his. Now that he was fully awake, he could show you how much he missed you.

“Three weeks is too long for us to be apart, Berzatto.” You said before he kissed you again.

“I’ve been goin’ crazy wishing you were here with me.” Carmen confessed.

“I have too. Sugar is probably tired of hearing how much I’ve missed you everyday.”

Carmen chuckled, “She told me that she’s always happy to have you around. You’re the sister that she’s always wanted.”

Your heart soared at his comment. It meant a lot that Sugar enjoyed your company.

“Mikey invited me to dinner at The Beef two days ago. I went and spent some time with him. Richie and Tina ate with us also.”

Carmen was a little quiet, “That’s-that’s nice”

“It was nice, Bear. I enjoy hearing his stories.”

He nodded, “I’m glad you had a good time.”

You touched his face gently, “When is the last time you spoke to him?”

He shrugged his shoulders a little, “I think three weeks or somethin’.”

“He told me that he’s really proud of you. I am too. I’ve always been proud but when I get photos of the stuff you’re creating, it’s a whole new level.”

Carmen smiled sheepishly. Before you, he wasn’t great at receiving compliments. He could hand them out easily but when it was reversed, he just didn’t know how to handle it. The longer the two of you were together, he was getting better at it.

“I couldn’t do any of this without you, (Y/n).” Carmen said softly.

“I’m so happy to be cheering you on. I wish I could come visit more but work has been insane and I barely got the time to come for a few days now.”

Carmen placed his hand on your thigh and rubbed his thumb against it soothingly, “I feel bad that you’ve been doin’ all of the traveling to make sure that we see each other.”

“There will be a time when you’re the one having to come to me. I don’t mind it right now.”

Carmen kissed your forehead, “I don’t deserve you.”

It tore your heart piece by piece every time he confessed that. You hated that it was a thought in his mind.

“Yes, you do, Bear. I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. Until that day comes, I will continue to tell you until you finally believe me.”

You wrapped your arm around his midsection and rested your head on his chest. His hand automatically went to your hair. It was moments like this that he cherished the most. All of the stress and headaches were worth it for the moment to be sitting with the love of his life.

[weirdmorefics]

I think I got mugged... Carmen Berzatto X reader

Reader's pronouns- (She/Her)

Word Count- 2,063

Summary- Reader gets mugged on her way to work and tries to act like it is no big deal but Carmy forces her to sit down and patches her up.

"Y/N why the hell are you so late? We are slammed! Carmy's losing his ever-loving mind!" Richie shouts at me before I even fully step through the door.

"Shh. You are being so loud right now," I groan while holding my head.

Richie looks at me and grimaces," Woah you look like shit!!"

"Thank you that's exactly what every woman wants to hear. You must be drowning in ladies." I roll my eyes because I am well aware I look like shit I don't really need to hear it.

"Ha ha Y/N you are so funny... but seriously are okay?" Richie fake laughed then looked at me seriously.

"Yeah... I think I got mugged or something... but it's chill," I mumbled a tad embarrassed because I may or may not talk a big game of being tough.

Richie's jaw dropped and he shouted "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU THINK YOU WERE MUGGED! YOU WERE EITHER MUGGED OR NOT MUGGED!"

At this loud statement, courtesy of Richie Carmy peeks his head out of the window and Sydney comes out to check on guests.

Sydney pauses what she's doing and concernedly says "Y/n are okay?" Then proceeds to shout as well "Is that blood!"

I touch my head and feel the warm wetness on my head, "I suppose it is.. can we just stop the shouting though so I can finish walking in the door and actually help with the rush."

Carmen is instantly rushing out of the kitchen at the statement, "There is no way you are working today!"

"I swear I am fine! I will clean up in the bathroom and get right to work." I attempt to walk away but fail miserably as Carmen instantly grabs my arm.

"Bullshit you are not fine! You are bleeding from your head! If you won't take care of yourself I will do it for you. Sydney cover for me!" Carmen seethed so hard I thought smoke would blow out of his ears.

Sydney responds "Yes, Chef." I mouth I am so sorry as Carmen drags me to the back office.

"OOO Carmy is mad," Richie drags out like a high schooler watching a school fight.

"Shut the fuck up, Richie!" Carmen shouts not even looking back.

I clamp my mouth shut and Richie laughs "Good luck Y/N! I'll beat the mugger up for you though if Carmy doesn't get to him first."

I glare at Richie and I kind of blame him for the whole restaurant finding out I was mugged.

Carmy slams the office door open and basically forces me to sit down without saying a single word. I watch him silently as he mumbles profanities and makes a mess looking for something. After tearing half the office apart he pulls out a first aid kit. He shines a flashlight annoyingly close to my eyes and grumbles for me to follow the light.

I chuckle slightly and ask, "What are you a doctor now?"

He simply glares at me and does not say a word. "Um.. are you mad at me for getting mugged? I mean trust I am mad too I lost fifty bucks I am just glad I only had cash on me and not my wallet. I just don't see why you are mad."

He sets the flashlight down and looks at me like I am an idiot. "Are you serious? You do not know why I am mad? Also, you are concussed so you are not working and I am driving you home."

"What! I am so not concussed they barely even pushed me! Can you even diagnose me with a concussion?" I tried to stand up and walk away from him but was instantly pushed back down in the chair.

"I need you to let me take care of you for once," He said like it was no big deal at all but it made me blush so bad. He did not acknowledge it and poured some alcohol on a towel and cleaned the dry blood off the side of my head.

"You know I'd give you a ride to work anytime," he whispers as he puts my hair behind my ear.

"You being all nice now is giving me serious whiplash. I don't mind taking public transportation anyway and my apartment is literally in the opposite direction from yours I could never ask you to go out of your way to just drive me to work. If you are not going to let me work I will just walk home." I went to stand up again and once again pushed back down.

"Let me get my keys I'll drive you home it is not a question. I will drive you to work when you are healthy enough again. Can't have you getting hurt again." he said bossing me around. This time he noticed my blush and quickly added to the statement " Can't have you getting hurt because we can't afford to lose an employee I mean... just stay put let me get my keys."

As soon as he left the office I stood up and sneaked out to the kitchen.

"Hey Marcus what are you working on," I said in a sing-songy voice. He showed me a wide variety of donuts he was taste-testing for his new donut recipe. I instantly took one and started to help him determine the best ones. Then we both heard Carmy shouting "Y/N where did you go? I thought I told you to stay put!"

I hold my head and groan "What crawled up his ass today?"

"Well, maybe the fact you got mugged and he is obsessed with you?" Marcus says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I laugh at him "Shut up I may be concussed but I am not gullible. "

"You may not be gullible but you are certainly oblivious. Better go your boyfriend is still calling for you." He teases as I roll my eyes.

"I am taking a donut because you are being mean," I say and steal my favorite donut out of the batch.

I walk out of the kitchen while taking a bite of my donut and am greeted by a glaring Carmy. "I thought I told you to stay put."

"You did I just didn't listen," I tease.

"Come on we are leaving. Richie behave, Sydney please hold down the fort." He says and Sydney responds with a yes chef and of course, Richie mocks her.

We go outside and Carmy opens the passenger door for me, "Wow a gentleman."

"Thanks, I can be sometimes," He smiles as he gets in the car.

We sat the majority of the ride in silence he still seemed mad at me and I couldn't stop thinking about what Marcus said he had to just be teasing me.

I notice we are going in the wrong way and go to point it out, "Hey Carmy we are going in the wrong direction maybe that's why you always offer me rides home."

"No that's not why. I am taking you back to my place," He says like it is no big deal at all.

"What!" I shout so loud that it makes me instantly hold my head.

"You obviously aren't going to take care of yourself and you can't go to sleep right after getting a concussion either so someone needs to watch you." He said annoyed.

"I still don't get why you are so angry at me. I appreciate you taking care of me but it's unnecessary and I never asked you to." I responded also annoyed at his attitude towards me.

"The thing you don't realize is you don't need to ask me." He says lowly while gripping the steering wheel.

We arrive at his apartment and I am a blushing mess and there is no way of hiding it. Then he opens the car door for me and again and I am way too nervous for my own liking.

He smirks at my reaction at least he is somewhat happy now even if it is at my own expense. He puts his hand on the small of my back as we ascend the stairs.

He sits me on his couch, "Seriously don't move this time I am going to get you an ice pack and make you some breakfast because we both know you always skip it."

"Do you even have food in your fridge we both know you don't even feed yourself," I jest and he laughs.

"You know me so well," he smiles and kisses the top of my head.

I instantly flush at this gesture and he again walks away like it is no big deal. For someone saying he just wants to take care of me, he is certainly stressing me out.

"Okay, I found cereal the milk has gone bad though... on the bright side I also have peanut butter and crackers." He comes back with peanut butter crackers on a plate and a box of cereal.

"My savior," I put my hand on my chest.

"Yes what I crave to be," he responds back.

"Is that why you crave to drive me to work when I can just take the bus and walk the two blocks after?"

He rolls his eyes, "Would you really rather be mugged than drive to work with me?"

I am quick to defend myself "That's not it all I just don't want to be a hassle!"

"You a hassle never, well of course when you refuse to listen but I will never see you that way. Not after all the times you have helped me with the restaurant." He says seriously with a lot of eye contact that makes me feel awkward.

"Well, I am your employee it's what I am supposed to do... but Marcus seems to think we are more," I mumble the last part.

His eyes widen, "What did Marcus say?"

"Does Marcus know something I don't?" I awkwardly smiled. "Marcus did say I am oblivious."

"He shouldn't have said that," He shakes his head.

"I mean it is true I am quite oblivious," I laugh.

He starts mumbling about Marcus and teaches me to open up to him. I put my hand on his shoulder "You know you can open up to me snitches get stitches as I say"

" I mean I didn't want to tell you this way and I wanted to make sure I was good enough," He said.

"What you didn't want to tell a concussed me with a head wound you don't think you good enough? I can assure you are good enough. You are the best chef I have ever known and the smartest guy I have ever met."

"That's not what I meant... but I do appreciate the compliment." He picks the ice pack back up and holds it to my face as I roll my eyes. "What I mean is that I am um good enough for you. I can't focus when you're late to work when you don't text me your nightly I'm Home text. You are distracting my mind no matter what I am doing."

I try to fight the smile appearing on my face but I just can't I feel like the Chesire Cat. "It sounds like you like me," I smirk some more.

" I do."

At that bold confirmation, my face gets extremely hot I must look like a tomato. I look to the side and stutter over my words unsure of what to say " I guess you can drive me to work as long as we go on a proper date together that is not The Bear."

"There is no argument from me," He kisses me making me even redder, more than I thought was possible.

"One more thing to add to these conditions is you must take care of yourself," he whispers in my ear.

"Your one to talk! How about you promise to take care of YOURSELF." I rebuke

"How about we both make sure we are taking care of ourselves," He smirks.

"Deal" I smile and kiss him. I pull back, " I am kinda glad I got mugged today totally worth the fifty bucks."

He shakes his head, " I am glad you think it was worth it I am still incredibly mad they hurt your beautiful crazy brain.

[yannaryartside]

Sydney has never antagonized Carmy

I keep coming back to that scene between Cicero and Sydney where he tells her basically how insufferable Carmy is, but she just says “I don't know what you want me to say to that. There is a layer to this about Carmy being her superior, but it is definitely more than that, the bear operates like a family joint and Syd is part of it, she is expected to take part in the drama.

There has always been a tendency between the people that surround Carmy to criticize him, both when he is doing good or doing bad.

Now, this season Carmy really continued the circle of violence he was once trapped in. He did it because he thought it was the only way he could be the best, because evil chef taught him so. The show made a point to show us Carmys kind nature until s2 so we could understand that the abuse he inflicts on others doesn't come from a place of actual malice.

But his family doesn't know about evil chef. Knowing it will not make Carmy’s behavior okay either. The way most violent people were abused as well.

Sydney has never acted like Carmys behavior is okay, even when his family ignored the other shitty things he has done because it didnt affect them directly until now.

All that being said, it was amazing to see Sydney never talking bad about Carmy behind him. The scene with her and Cicero was a stellar example of it.

Now, why doesn't she takes sides? Why not talk about Carmy behind his back?

Because that won't resolve anything, it would not be helpful to anybody. She doesn't take sides (this is not a you vs us thing) she doesn't judge. She even comforts Cicero about his regrets in his lack of involvement with the bear kids, when she grew up with a very present father herself, she could have judge, she didn't.

Edit: idk if I was sucesfull on making a point here:

Sydney doesn't like to condemn or limit the potential of people to what she knows is the worst of them. Her whole relationship with Richie is a good example of it. Once he started to show up for her and she saw that he cares for the restaurant she started trusting him. She has endured Carmys antics in part because she knows how much he can encourage and support the ones surrounding him, her included. Even faith has its limits of course.

I just wanted to highlight that judging/condemning others is easy, especially behind their backs. She never assumed she knew the whole story. She never took any high ground. She just called it shitty behavior as she saw it, and even did it with patience and love for everyone involved.

There is a sad undertone to all this, wich is as a black woman she may feel she needs to put her own needs aside for the things she wants to achieve. I think she took a role of a protector this season. She may have felt she was responsible for helping the crew under her survive this, even when she constantly called on Carmys bullshit.

She was a good friend, she has been a good person all around even how much she has been push. I don't want to advocate for women to be limited to the moral compass for the tragic hero. Still, I am sure that if she were a male or white, you would see all corners of the Bear fandom treat this character like the equivalent of Captain America or Superman. She will be the hero and Carmen will be the villain. Because she is indeed the moral compass, she is an example to the viewer on how to react with maturity, holistic view, and compassion to all the messed up situations the story throws her in.

[augiewrites]

“scott street” - richie jerimovich

summary: y/n is back in chicago for the first time in years and reunites with an old flame (inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street)

pairing: richie jerimovich x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, grief, family/parental death, the usual warnings that come along with the bear

a/n: i love emotionally unintelligent men

Y/N was never good at making decisions. Big, life changing decisions? No big deal. Abandon everything they know to move across the country for college? Didn’t even think twice. Their last living family member was not-so alive anymore and left a massive mess behind with no one to clean it up? The U-Haul was packed before the week was over.

The cooler of soft drinks in front of them right now? Y/N had been staring at the frosted doors for well over five minutes, periodically opening the doors but taking nothing out.

“Y/N?”

Holy shit, he grew up.

“Carmy?” Y/N smiled at the young man, pulling him into a brief embrace, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could, uh, ask you the same,” Carmy smirked.

“I’m taking care of Ma’s old building.”

Carmy’s brows knitted together, “Right—I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. Shame.”

“Yeah,” Y/N shuffled their feet, “you avoiding the question?”

“Maybe,” he smirked, “I took over the Beef. Been back in town for a few weeks.”

“Oh? How’s that going for you?”

Another smirk. “It’s not, really.”

“Wow, look at us,” Y/N knocked his shoulder with theirs, “both said we’d never come back and here we are…dealing with a couple steaming piles of shit.”

He let out a breath that slightly resembled a laugh, “Yeah—listen, you should come by for family tomorrow afternoon. Take a look at the pile for yourself.”

“Oh, Carmy, I don’t know—”

“I’ll make sure he stays in line.”

“We both know that’s not possible, Bear.”

“Still, everyone would love seeing you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Carmy opened the cooler and wordlessly pressed a Diet Coke in their hand before walking out of the store.

It took everything in them to not cry.

_________________________________________

Y/N knew it was a bad idea, but the next day they found themselves standing outside the Beef, willing themselves to go in.

They scoffed and opened the door.

Pussy, they chastised themself.

The restaurant was pure chaos, and Y/N stood there for a moment, completely unnoticed and taking it all in. They would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t miss the mayhem.

Unsurprisingly, Richie was the first to notice them—he had a habit of doing that.

“Yo, what the hell?”

Y/N was barely able to get a word out as they were suddenly flanked by Tina and Ebra, who were simultaneously saying how good it was to see them and chastising them for being gone so long with so little communication.

It was Carmy that intervened, gently pulling Y/N away with a small laugh and saying, “okay, guys, let ‘em breathe.”

Richie was frozen in his spot behind the counter, feeling like he just saw a ghost.

Which, in a way, he did. It had been years since he saw Y/N, and no matter how much he tried forgetting about them, they haunted his thoughts. They had been high school sweethearts, and even though things didn’t end well between them he couldn’t help but still care deeply for them.

First loves were like that.

Y/N’s mind was on overdrive as Carmy walked them around and introduced them to the new faces working in the kitchen. Richie was being too quiet. Usually when he was avoiding a topic he didn’t like, he talked about everything else under the sun. Richie being quiet was dangerous territory.

They were pulled out of their thoughts once Tina slammed a large pot in the center of the larger tables in the dining area and yelled, “Family!”

Y/N took a seat between Tina and Fak, and was for once thankful for the man’s dedication to rambling. He was currently going on about how he should come inspect the building they were now the owner of, despite the building already having been cleared by state inspectors and having a fully staffed maintenance team.

“I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you, Fak,” Richie broke in, “it’s only a matter of time before they leave and make that place someone else’s problem. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N didn’t have it in them to fight back, even though they knew that was what the man wanted. They were too tired.

“That’s what you do best, huh, Y/N? Run away from all your problems and leave everyone else to pick up the pieces?”

Carmy sent Richie a warning glare, “Cousin.”

“No, Cousin,” funny how Richie can manage to make a term of endearment sound like an insult, “you had no right inviting them here.”

“I have just as much a right to be here as you do,” Y/N glared at Richie.

“That’s a load of shit, and you know it, toots.”

That was all it took for a screaming match to break out between the former lovers. Their voices drowned each other out, and all Carmy could make out was a slew of insulting names, curse words, and years of unpacked baggage.

He let them go at it for a couple of minutes before he dragged Richie out the front door with a cry of “enough!”

Y/N could hear the two men arguing outside from their place at the table before deciding that they’d had enough. They muttered a lame “excuse me” before moving through the kitchen to the back alley, their face heating up in embarrassment. It was nothing that most of the Beef’s staff hadn’t seen before, but Y/N could feel themselves reverting to a version of themself that they hadn’t been for a long time—they couldn’t help the embarrassment that came along with it.

They were halfway through their second cigarette when they heard the back door open and a familiar pair of track pants entered their field of vision.

“I got you those over a decade ago,” they exhaled the smoke and pressed their lighter into Richie’s outstretched hand, “isn’t it about time you get some new clothes?”

Richie kicked his leg around, inspecting the pants, “Ain’t nothing wrong with ‘em. Why get rid of something that works?”

“Big words coming from you.”

He met their half-assed glare with a furrowed look, “you were the one that left.”

“Not before you ended it.”

“We would’ve gotten back together. Always did,” a scoff, “You left.”

“And you moved on, had a kid—seems like things worked out.”

“Toots, if this is things working out, I don’t wanna know what it would have been like if they hadn’t.”

Y/N needed to change the subject before the tension killed them.

“How’s your girl doing, anyway?”

Richie grinned at Y/N, “Ev’s doing real good. Loving her new gymnastics class. Just turned nine last month.”

“Shit, that makes me feel old.”

“Well, what does that make me?” Richie asked with a rough laugh.

“Fucking ancient.”

Another laugh. Maybe things would be different between them this time.

“You in town for good, then?

“Yeah, I think so. Got a good thing going. Think I might start renovating some of the units in the apartment next year.”

“Hmm, sure,” Richie muttered absentmindedly around his cigarette.

Y/N decided it was better to not say anything.

Richie finished off his cigarette, tossing it in the general direction of a makeshift ashtray.

He made to walk back to the back door before turning and offering Y/N his hand, helping them pull themselves off the ground. He wiped his hands off on his track pants before finally going to move away.

“Anyway,” he gave them one last look before turning around and walking away, “don’t be a stranger.”

~~~

part two

[brzatto]

Okay the anon mentioning that thing about Mikey leaving Carmy the beef and in a way leaving Richie to Carmy IS FANTASTIC

This fucker really said these two idiots will only survive if I force them together.

Also I feel like Richie is dying to take care of someone in a way? Like, he was really good with Tiff and he wants to be a good dad so bad. And then his dead best friend said heard and just shoves this chaotic, broken, mess of a little brother into his arms with no direction or further guidance. And he grew up with this kid right? He saw all the awkward phases and knows him better than most of his family even though it was probably more of an annoyance than genuinely wanting to know.

So he, on a super base level, probably knows Carmy enough to be surprisingly good at keep him alive and healthy?

Mikey gave Richie the human equivalent of a depressed house plant and he's actually doing a decent job at keeping Carmy it alive.

Also

Also

Along this same train of thought, what would Nat and Donna do once they realize Richie and Carmy may be a little closer than they realized? I think Nat would give a fierce shovel talk to Richie and then hug him for a really long time. What about Donna? She's already fucking nuts. I kinda want to explore the idea of her snarling something about Carmy always trying to be Mikey but I also like the idea of her thinking they can support each other better than she ever did.

And I feel like it's just glazed over but the trauma of being in that fucking house? Like Richie's dad wasn't around right? I would argue that's almost better than whatever the fuck Donna was doing.

There's so much to explore there. Add in the stuff while Carmy was away with the fuck face chef and oh Lord this boy needs help.

Do I think Carmy is in a place like Mikey was? No, but not taking care of yourself is a form of self harm and that boy does not even know how to spell self care.

I feel like Richie would better understand and be very aware of those things. They're always yelling at each other but Carmy usually has like a meltdown of some type after. Maybe Carmy hates when someone's close behind him in the kitchen because it makes him think of fuck face chef. Richie clocking in on that and going out of his way to discreetly move people around Carmy quick or to place himself between Carmy and someone else if they have to be behind him. Because if Carmy would let anyone see all the little, broken, scared parts of him it would be Richie.

And possessive, protective Richie who picks up on all these little flinches, self deprecating remarks, the lack of self care, or general depression and putting all the pieces into a picture that he does not like. I think he'd pick it all up and make sure anything that may trigger Carmy is taken care of, within reason, and subtly do things to help or make things easier, all while Carmy is oblivious but also realizing he isn't as stressed as he usually is. And Richie seems very pleased with himself lately.

**I rambled again, sorry. I just love actually having someone to talk to about this pairing ♥️

you’re correct! something that really irked me before s2 came out was the mass richie misinterpretation where everyone thought he was fundamentally a bad person with a few good moments/interactions as opposed to vice versa. the way richie treats carmy is a testament to their closeness but also probably to how estranged they became since carmy left home, when we’re introduced to richie in the pilot he’s visibly very warm and friendly with everyone else in the kitchen (except for fak and syd who are outsiders that carmy chooses to bring in) and is seen being openly affectionate, kissing tina hugging marcus etc etc. richie takes good care of those he cares about and i’m so glad they gave us a glimpse into his dynamic with tiff while she was pregnant because richie was soooooo (biting my fist) i’ve never doubted for a second that he genuinely loved her and i’m glad they showed us them being happy and sweet rather than the deteriorated version of their relationship that probably came after eva was born/mikey’s addiction got worse.

i feel like growing up carmy was relatively sheltered in a way? probably naturally shy and quiet and introverted even when he was younger and in spite of all the chaos in his family i really feel like he was spoiled lol or at least comparatively. especially with the comment richie made to sydney about always being nagged about being careful with carmy i can see nat and mikey both being really protective of him. in opposition richie was definitely the one who’d tease and antagonize him the most but he still clearly had that sense of responsibility drilled into him back then because we can see how instinctual his protectiveness is with carmy even now. i’m still trying to decide what his relationship and dynamic with donna was like when he was younger because in fishes we see him successfully placating her when nat couldn’t, i can’t tell if she’s always favored carmy just for being the youngest or if mikey and nat had to shield him from the brunt of her dysfunctionality growing up or maybe even if she was more stable when he was younger and then her mental health deteriorated/behavior became increasingly more erratic over time?

richie’s a person who naturally receives gratification from doing things for others and feeling useful/needed and that probably manifests itself in a much more competitive/spiteful way with carmy because his feelings towards him are just Like That and carmy is also bad at thanking (not other people just richie specifically) him so it’s not quite as transactional as his dynamic with, for example, tiff where he does things for her and is directly rewarded with affection/praise/seeing her happy. i think at first richie just likes the idea of carmy, who he always knew as just some snot nosed loser and is now a well established name in a competitive and high end industry, still being incompetent in some facets and having to depend on richie for something (even if carmy would NEVER ask for his help first or even admit his dependency), likes the idea of having it to hang over his head etc etc (or at least this is how he justifies it to himself) and then with time it gradually morphs back into a Normal relationship where they’re willing to accept that richie takes care of carmy because he cares about him and carmy accepts it because he also cares about him but because they’re them and they’re difficult we have to go the long way around. this is the plot of bcm essentially

lol for sugar and donna’s reactions i think you summed up my own feelings pretty well. i do have a wip fic that sort of includes how that would go with sugar, but in it they actually don’t tell her about “being together” at all (because they do NOT think of themselves as “being together”) and she finds out herself after carmy has been unofficially living with richie for like the past however many months and is understandably pissed. it’s supposed to be a more lighthearted fic so there’s no seriousness to it but i think having known for richie for so long she’s already intimately familiar with all his loser scumbag asshole tendencies as well as carmy’s bullheadedness and notoriously bad decision making but she also knows richie’s good at heart and carmy needs someone like him in his life. especially in light of richie’s apology to her in s2 and effectively amending their relationship (which meant SO much to me) genuinely i can only see her being mad over them not telling her about it rather than anything else. also i love the implication that mikey and richie were also romantically involved before at some point too and donna weaponizing that… when i choose to incorporate past richie/mikey in my carmrich plots the notion that richie is just another one of mikey’s hand me downs or that carmy is simply mikey’s fill in for richie is always one of carmy’s biggest insecurities and i can’t quite decide if donna would be cruel enough to weaponize that against carmy specifically but the thought has delectable angst potential. your mind

i think about richie’s family life a lot like goodness what was going ON in the jerimovich household that donna berzatto could’ve possibly been the better alternative… in reality i think richie’s mother actually just wasn’t present at all, like i think she probably either died or left when he was a child but since sydney’s mother also passed away when she was young and i doubt they’d repeat that plotline for richie i’m guessing it’s the latter. his father also probably wasn’t around very much because of service, but when he was he was probably a dick because he was a cishet (vine boom) white man (vine boom) in the military (VINE BOOM)

and actually it’s funny that you say that because to me i think carmy would definitely have his own vices, like obviously we see his smoking habit but a personal hc of mine i’ve always had for him even before s2 came out is that he has a bad relationship with alcohol—not to the point of addiction or anything like that but i think he probably abused it a little to cope with mikey shutting him out and stopped once it posed the risk of interfering with his work. if you happen to remember in ch2 of bcm there’s a line where carmy mentions richie knowing carmy doesn’t drink—there’s a reason why and that’ll get expanded on in future chapters! but yeah carmy’s form of self harm definitely manifests itself as self neglect. i’ve seen a lot of people write him with an ed but i don’t necessarily think he has one or that his relationship with food is tainted per se i think his eating habits just reflect his own self negligence. carmy definitely is on his way to developing gastritis if he doesn’t have it already

and this is such a sweet scenario for them i love this >_< anything with richie being attentive, considerate, thoughtful, gentle, tender etc etc i am seated immediately… like sometimes i read my own writing and feel like i’m projecting because i want him so unspeakably badly. always nice to see you in my inbox thank you for this anon 🤍

[preciouslandmermaid]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) – part 5

Note: This one kinda follows a canon episode, but I can’t remember how everything plays out so my bad if there are continuity errors LMAO.

Pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: they are fucking idiots! Drinking, intoxication, more feelings denial, some Carmy POV, coping with grief but like badly.

Synopsis: You have brunch with your mom and decide to pull some strings to help out Carmy’s business in a completely platonic and normal way.

Gangsters shoot out the front window of The Beef, your best friend pays you a visit, and you and Carmy reflect on what happened last night.

(Read on Ao3)

< Part Four > 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You met your mother for brunch at a spot near West Chicago Ave. It was further away from your bakery than you usually went for breakfast, but your mom liked their protein bowls. And besides, it wasn’t like you could do anything at the bakery right now. You were expecting a delivery of furniture this afternoon, and they’d need your signature, but that was it. If you went to work now, you’d wind up in your office, and you knew how you’d feel if you did that.

“How do you feel about the competition in the area? I saw they’re opening a Chinese restaurant on the corner.”

You shrugged, “I’m not too worried. Different cuisines and all that.”

“Well, good! You have no reason to worry, actually. I was talking to my friend Kristopher; you know Kristopher yes?” She asked, pushing blueberries around in her oatmeal, and waited for you to nod before continuing. “Kristopher was saying that the Beef is in a spot of trouble with back-taxes. I’d be surprised if they make it through the year.”

You choked on a piece of tomato. Jesus, what sort of mess was Carmy in? You coughed and drank a sip of ice water to clear your lungs.

“What do you mean? Why did Kristopher tell you that?”

“We were just talking.” Your mom avoided eye contact.

“Mom.”

“You came up in conversation!” She said quickly, “I mentioned your bakery and where it was located, and Kristopher’s local. He knows this area and he knows the person handling their case. That’s all. They sit next to one another. It was pure coincidence.”

“I don’t believe that.” You said with a hardened stare. The likelihood of Kristopher causally dropping that information during a benign social call was about as likely as pigs evolving wings in the next twenty-four hours. You knew your mom was coming from a ‘good’ place. She wanted to help you. It’s why she called in a favor from her friend in New York and brought that chef in, it’s why she called Kristopher and got legally ambiguous information from him. Her heart was in the right place. Her morals? Hard to say. You knew your mom to be cutthroat and ambitious. It’s what got her through law school, despite being a single mother in the midst of a divorce. She even had the courage to start again in Chicago while you were away at school. You came to visit for holiday break and discovered your mom packed up her life, left Cincinnati, and started her own law firm.

“Believe or don’t believe whatever you want, sweetie.” She smiled. “I just figured I’d mention it.”

“Can I have Kristopher’s number?”

Her eyebrows raised, “Really?”

“I haven’t talked to him since New Year’s. I’d like to say hi.”

Your mom believed you about as much as you believed her. She smirked and pulled her phone from her expensive, large purse. Your phone buzzed on the table as she sent the contact over to you. You appreciated that she didn’t ask why or press you for details. In truth, you weren’t sure you could explain it if you tried. You were in a rare position of power. It wasn’t like you to call favors and pull strings (your grandfather and mom excelled in those areas). But you’d make an exception…just this once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy couldn’t stop making stupid, little mistakes. It started with nicking the side of his finger while chopping onions. It wasn’t a big deal. He washed his hands, put on a band-aid, and slipped on two pairs of gloves. He waited for his body and mind to click into autopilot. It was like second nature to him, following into the rhythm and flow of the kitchen, and his hands would move faster than his brain, predicting movements, and reacting to things before they happened. Yet today something was off. The autopilot never kicked in. He crashed into Manny – all because he forgot to say “Corner”—and that mistake sent a tub of soapy water onto the floor in a flood of bubbles and citrus scent.

“Fuck.” Carmy scratched his forehead with the back of his knuckles. Marcus generously stepped away from his station with white, starched towels to help clean up.

He wasn’t on his game today. Syd was the first to notice and actually say something.

She asked. “Yo, Chef? You good?”

“What?” Carmy nodded, “yeah, I’m good. I’m good.”

“Alright…” Her tone remained dubious.

“One hour till open, Chefs!” He shouted to a chorus of a replied ‘Yes, Chef’. Someone knocked loudly on the back door near the dishwashing station. Carmy checked the time. He wasn’t expecting a delivery and typically the meat guy delivered at the front door.

Sugar glared at him when the door swung open. “I’ve been calling you! You need to answer my calls.”

“Sorry,” He blinked, “what’s going on?”

“Mikey didn’t pay taxes for five years is what.” Sugar sighed heavily.

Carmy tore his fingers through his hair and his stomach plummeted. “Shit…”

“Yeah, shit. We’re lucky that you’re such good friends with—” She said your name and Carmy’s world went sideways. His stomach twisted for an entirely new reason. How did Sugar know you? How were you connected to this fucking IRS mess? He briefly shut his eyes and all he could see was your body, dewy with sweat, pinned beneath his. You were just friends now. He couldn’t think about that. He needed to focus, he needed to stay on task, because Natalie needed him. He shook off the memory and led his sister into Mikey—His—office. Sugar started pulling out boxes and files from the filing cabinets while Carmy sorted through the mail on his desk. His heart flipped at each ‘OVERDUE’ stamped red invoice. Even in his urgency, he couldn’t shake the desire to know more and to have his questions answered.

“Start over. Who did you talk to?”

“I was working with this woman named Ezra, but then a man named Kristopher called me from the IRS.” She explained with her hair falling in front of her face, “he mentioned—” again your name on Natalie’s tongue, “and said that she was a friend of yours. Kristopher said he was taking over for Ezra and approved on an extension. I think it was something relating to bereavement?”

“What the fuck is this?” She flicked through a folder and then tossed it onto a pile.

“An extension for what?” Carmy pressed. His heart thundered inside his ears. You called in some kind of favor for them? Why? He pressed his teeth into his lower lip. Every time he felt like he had you figured out, you pulled the rug out from under him. You were a spitfire, honest nearly to a fault, and quick to deflect with proud shoulders carrying the weight of the world. Yet at the same time, you were empathetic, diligent, sweet, and funny. Often, he found himself thinking about something you said in passing and his lips would quirk upward.

“For the paperwork. I’m supposed to get it to them today, by 3pm, but Kristopher said we have until 11pm.” Sugar said with another heavy, burdened sigh. “How did Mikey organize any of this?”

“I don’t think he did.” Carmy shook his head.

“Good thing we have that extension then…” Sugar flattened her mouth into a hard line, “I can handle this if you need to get back out on the line.”

“No, no, we should be…we should be alright. I’ll keep helping.” They fell into silence with the occasional exclamation of hope, before reading the file and realizing it wasn’t what they needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve told you like twenty times, you can’t be here, my guy.” You said to the cluster of men who congregated outside your bakery.  You suspected, based on their slicked back hair and gold chains and heavy-handed expensive cologne that they were part of a family gang.

“But Richie won’t let us hang out in front of the Beef anymore and they’re doing construction down the street!” Crooked John complained.

“I am also doing construction.” You pointed out before accepting a clipboard from the furniture delivery service. At last, everything arrived and in mostly one piece. A few of the tables would need setting up, their legs screwed in and such, but the delivery service would handle that.

“Listen, John. Can I call you John?”

“I prefer Crooked John. It’s less confusing that way.”

“Fine.” You ran one hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face, “Crooked John. I understand the predicament you’re in, but the sidewalk is pretty stacked on this side, and it becomes a liability issue for me if ya’ll hang out here.”

“You want us to go back across the street?” Mr. Carl asked, “cause they’re just gonna send us back this way.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out your wallet. “How much for you to stay off my side?” You didn’t have time to be handling this. You needed to catch the L and get an Uber to your mom’s office. You were conducting interviews there while your working crew finished moving furniture and installing the security system.

“Hundred.” Crooked John said.

“Fifty,” said Mr. Carl.

“Hundred-fifty.”

Mr. Carl opened his mouth to raise the bid. You lifted your hand and signaled them to stop. You pulled cash from your wallet, counting it with efficiency, and holding the smooth, crisp bills to Crooked John and Mr. Carl respectively. They shared a surprised, impressed glance.

“Here’s two hundred. Keep it for yourself, split it with your buddies, I don’t care. Just get off my street.”

“Yes, Ma’m.” Mr. Carl nodded enthusiastically, “me and my boys will stay clear.”

Crooked John smiled. “You got it, doll.”

You ignored the weird misogyny. “This is a one-time thing and next time, I won’t be so nice.”

Crooked John and his friends finally left your sidewalk and allowed for the free-flowing movement of your contracted employees. You checked your watch. “Fuck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gunfire hit the front of the Beef and Carmy’s instincts jolted into fight-or-flight.

He rushed out of his to the front of the store, “We good? Everyone good?” 

They were lucky, he figured, that the bullet didn’t shatter the entire window. He couldn’t imagine the cost that would have. He glanced across the street, but it was impossible to see if any other stores were affected. Your bakery was blocked by a moving truck, and he hoped that meant you weren’t hit too. Friends could care about that sort of shit, right? His chest tightened. Not for the first time since meeting you, he wished he had your phone number. A quick text would confirm you were alright.

And what if she isn’t? Carmy’s mouth went cottony and dry. A rapid, overwhelming sense of helplessness flooded his system, and he pressed his hands against his face. He felt Sugar’s gaze burning into the side of his head. He sighed and bounced a pen on his fingertips. He tried vainly to push you from his mind. It was like pushing a handful of sand against the wind. He slid to the floor, files around him, and glanced over at Sugar.

He finally asked, “Did you, um, did you talk to her?”

It took her a minute to reply. She shook her head. “No, why?” She looked away from the chaotic files and met his eyes. Sugar’s brow furrowed and he knew he revealed something.

“You’re being weird about this, Carmy. What’s going on?”

He answered swiftly. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Really?” She pressed.

Carmy licked his lips. “I mean…it’s nothing, now. It was…it was…almost something – you know – for a little while.”

Sugar watched him with sympathy shining in her blue eyes. He found himself giving Sugar the bare bones of your connection. He told her how you bought the property across the street, and how your relationship was contentious at first, but now had smoothed into something softer and kinder like the erosion and transformation of sea glass. He skipped the detail of how you slept together. That experience had forever altered his view on relationships and sex, but that was a secret he’d take to the grave.

“I don’t see the issue.” She said, “It sounds like you’re friends and that’s a good thing, Carmy.” Her voice carried a note of pride. “You should have connections outside of this blackhole.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Carmy nodded. “I know that.”

Her eyes softened. She could read between the lines when he was being shitty and vague, and he knew she wouldn’t let him get away with it. He could secretly admit that it felt nice to talk about it. It felt nice to talk about you. The only people within the Beef who fairly knew you were either Marcus or Richie and he couldn’t imagine talking to either of them.  

Sugar asked, “What happened?”

“It’s just that…I sort of…I brought up the idea of us being more than friends. Because I – uh - I couldn’t get her out of my head, you know? But! It was nice sometimes because…because for a minute I wasn’t thinking about the fucking invoices or the deliveries from the butcher shop or Mikey’s shitty bookkeeping…” Carmy rubbed his jaw and stared at the wall.

“I’d have a smoke and I’d be selfish for thirty seconds and think about her. And…” He massaged his fingers, knuckles cracking faintly beneath his grip. “I felt like I could breathe for - for just – for just a second.”

“And I know she’s right. I’m not - we’re not - it wouldn’t be good for us to be together.” He admitted with a pained expression. There was the salt in the wound; the righteous, truthful salt. You both had more than enough bullshit to deal with. He was inexperienced, as a restaurant owner, and as someone’s boyfriend. He didn’t know the first thing about it. Hell, he’d crack like an egg under the pressure. You deserved better than someone like him. You deserved something without a metric ton of fucking emotional baggage and two whole notches on his belt (including you). And you were grieving. Although you hadn’t talked about it, he imagined you must’ve been close to your grandfather to bring so much heart into your bakery.

He really, really fucking hoped your bakery didn’t get hit by the gunfire.

“So, that’s what happened. I’ve got bigger issues to deal with but I’m fucking sulking over a girl.” He rubbed his hand over his face, “It’s shit.”

After finally saying everything aloud, his day and mistakes clicked into perspective. No wonder he was off his game. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and your conversation last night. He should’ve gotten your phone number before he left. He should’ve asked you to pick up coffee with him on the way to work. Anything, really, that might warrant the chance to know you better.

Now, he worried you would start putting distance between yourself and him. The idea of never speaking to you again, or never seeing you glare daggers at Richie, made his skin prickle with goosebumps.

“No, no! Carmy, it’s not.” She reached out and placed a hand on his knee. “We can’t control matters of the heart.”

“Yeah, no shit. You’re with Pete.” He grinned behind his palm.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you want some advice or not?”

Sugar was the only one among them to have a normal, functioning relationship even if it was with Pete. Granted, he had no fucking clue if Mikey had girlfriends, (or boyfriends for that matter) and his parents’ marriage wasn’t a good example. She must be doing something right if she was happy with Pete.

Carmy nodded.

“Take care of yourself. That’s the priority.” She said severely, then her tone softened as she continued, “ And once things are calmer around here…check-in with how you feel and see what happens. Maybe you’ll both be in a healthier space to explore something.”

“Yeah, yeah maybe.” He placed his hand over hers and squeezed, “Thanks, Sugar.”

She smiled. “What sort of big sister would I be if I didn’t give my baby brother relationship advice?”

Someone shouted from front of house. “Oh shit! Damn!” The attitude of the strangers’ voice was alarming enough to pull Carmy out of his office. A flash of red lights fractured and flickered beneath the hanging, blue plastic tarp. He touched Richie’s shoulder at the sight of their customers hovering near the busted window and trying to peer across the road. Anxiety tightened like a knot made of fishing wire inside his gut.

“Shit. What’s going on? Cops?”

“No, dude, it’s an ambulance.” Said Richie, “Do you think someone got fucking shot!?”

Carmy fingers twitched. “No way.” The words sounded flat and false to his own ears. There was a chance someone had been shot. A gun had been fired. It was only logical to assume someone could be injured. Why else would an ambulance be called? And what if it was you? Carmy pressed his fist against his chest where his heart pounded painfully inside his chest. What if it was? Again, the sense of powerlessness claimed him. If anything happened to you, he’d be the last to know. He’d probably read about on Twitter or something three days later.

Marcus said your name and it cut through the white noise in Carmy’s mind. He forcefully tuned himself back into the conversation happening around him.

Richie asked, “What? You gonna go over there?”

“What?” Marcus snorted. “No. I have her number.”

“Ooh!” teased Richie while humping the air, “Marcus making moves.”

Carmy hit Richie’s shoulder, “Shut up.” Richie should consider himself lucky that they didn’t have HR at the Beef otherwise he’d be written up every hour. “Don’t’ do that shit while we have customers, cousin. Come on!”

“Don’t be such a big baby!”

“For the record, she called me when I interviewed with her.” Marcus cut in while texting on his phone, “That’s why I have her number.” He grinned, proud and soft. “And she texted me to tell me my cake was fire.”

It wasn’t jealousy that writhed in his stomach. He had no reason to be jealous. But it was a little fucked up that Marcus had your number, and he didn’t right? Were you close friends with Marcus? Did you know him better than he implied? He squeezed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and forced himself to be present.

“We don’t need to focus on this right now—” Carmy said, “Marcus, back to your station. Richie? The customers?”

Richie scowled. “What? I’m not gonna tell them to stop gawking.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dani, a fifty-year old Hispanic pastry chef who lived her whole life in Chicago, sat across from you on your mom’s charcoal couch. Your first interview had been a little awkward, but there was something about Dani’s earnest and spirited nature that inspired you to give her a callback. This interview was significantly more productive and personable.

“And I made this carrot cake for my niece’s birthday.” She said, showing you a picture from her phone, and the cake was in the shape of a rabbit’s head. It was cute and you told her so. Dani’s coffee brown eyes warmed with the compliment. Your phone buzzed, open faced on the coffee table, alerting you of a text from Marcus.

You made a mental note to reply after the interview.

“Listen, Dani, I’d like to hire you.” You pressed your lips together. “I think it’s important that you know where I’m coming from. I’ve never owned a bakery. I’ve got experience in business management, and finance, and I could optimize a fiscal calendar with my eyes closed.”

You leaned forward, twisting your fingers together, “But I want to make more than just my grandad proud with this property. I want it to be something that I’m proud of too.”

“A noble and courageous goal.” Dani smiled.

Heat burned the tips of your ears, “I guess so.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out the hiring paperwork you managed to type up last night (at home, because God help you—you couldn’t get anything done in your office). You passed it to her with a brief quirk of a smile. The paperwork was your standard contract, wages, benefits, and so on.

“It’s only bulky because it’s written in Spanish and English. I remember you mentioned that Spanish was your first language.” Dani nodded, thumbing through the pages, and you continued, “Look this over and give me a call when you’re ready.”

She said, “Thank you.” A pleasant farewell, a handshake, and you were finally left alone. You kicked off your shoes and tucked your legs underneath yourself, picking up your phone. You tapped open your messaging app to finally read Marcus’ text.

His text read: ‘You good? Someone shot our window.’

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard to reply. You assumed everyone was fine, though your chest constricted with a minor worry that Richie could’ve gotten himself shot in the ass. Eh, Marcus would’ve said something if that happened. Your phone buzzed with another text and the banner dropped from the top of your screen to reveal your best friend’s name.

‘Surprise, bitch.’ She wrote. ‘Guess who is in Chicago?’

You immediately swiped over to your thread of conversation with her.

‘Dinner at Patty’s? 7?’ You texted her back with a momentary glance at the clock. You had two more interviews to finish before your day ended. You could finish up here, head home to shower and change, and meet Taylor there.

Her reply was almost immediate. ‘It’s like we share the same mind. Meet you there!! Wear something hot, cause I wanna go out afterward. The Neon Lounge just opened last week.’

You snickered and excitement colored the rest of your day in vibrant, orange hues that bubbled like champagne.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t make any true friends until college and Taylor was the first, and most loyal of them all. She was tall, dark-haired, with wide green eyes perpetually smudged by mascara. It was the type of friendship where you could go days without speaking, or months without seeing each other, and pick up right where you left off. The conversation flowed like a river downstream.

“You seeing anyone?” She asked.

“I am – I mean – I was fucking this guy for a little bit.” You said. It would be disingenuous to avoid mentioning Carmy. Sure, you were only friends, but Taylor knew every cobwebbed secret and unpolished truth of your life. Besides, you wanted to talk about it. If anyone could help you make sense of your tangled thoughts and feelings about the Beef’s owner—it was Taylor.

Taylor grinned and her nose ring gleamed in the restaurants’ moody lighting. “Details.”

“Well, I sort of hated him at first, for stupid reasons and then we hooked up in his car.”

“Love that.”

You found yourself bearing your heart between the appetizer dish and the main course. You told her everything. The incredible sex, the panic attack, the apologies, the complicated and primal emotional attraction that went beyond sex.

“I actually want to like hang out with him.” You admitted with a groan, “Can you believe it?”

“Yeah.” Taylor laughed. “I fucking can. I knew this would happen. I knew you’d eventually meet someone who made you crazy.”

You scoffed. “Shut up!”

“So, what’s the deal? You going on a date or what?”

“No, no. I – I ended it.”

“What? Seriously? Babes. C’mon.”

“Taylor, I can’t have a boyfriend right now.”

“Who says he has to be your boyfriend?!” Said Taylor, almost offended on your behalf. “You’ve done casual before.”

“I can’t do casual either! He’s got enough shit on his plate – I mentioned the dead brother, yeah? And I’ve got the bakery and grandad and a thousand other things.” You took a sip of chilled white wine. “It’s better like this.”

She pouted. “Bullshit. Do you want to know what I think?”

“You’re gonna tell me anyway, so go ahead.” You made a flippant gesture with your hand.

“Damn right.” She looked smug. “I think you feel a real connection with this guy and you’re running scared like you always do. Because that’s easier than being honest and opening yourself up to get hurt like how your mom did.”

Your jaw dropped and you sputtered a nervous laugh. “Wow! Not pulling any punches and bringing up the family issues, huh?”

“Just calling it like I see it.” She said, looking away while sipping her wine, though you caught her grin at the rim of the glass. You shook your head. Taylor might hold some truth to her words, but you weren’t going to change your mind about Carmy. It was better if you were just friends. Adding a relationship, even a causal one, would throw off the delicate chemistry of your lives and daily routine. It had nothing to do with the way your heart increased pace whenever you saw him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He and Sugar eventually found the paperwork they needed in a blue file named ‘Shit’. It was a small miracle. He also didn’t fuck up too much throughout the rest of the day besides a small burn at the inner flesh of his wrist. Now that the lunch and dinner rush were over and the kitchen clean, Carmy fiddled with a spoon in his hands and let it hit the tips of his fingers, and his mind took ten-steps ahead and worried about you. Again. On his smoke break after dinner, he wandered to the front of the Beef, hoping for a chance to see you. However, the lights in your bakery were off and all the workers were gone for the day. If you had been there—he didn’t know (and not knowing was the worst part).

“Hey, Marcus?” Marcus turned away from his donut project at the sound of Carmy’s voice. “You, uh, you figure out the ambulance across the street?”

Marcus frowned. “Nah. She didn’t hit me back.”

“Huh.” Carmy pressed his tongue into the back of his teeth. “Okay.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Y-yeah. Yeah.” Carmy sniffed and nodded and broke away from the conversation before he was tempted to ask Marcus to text you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Neon Lounge had two levels. The first floor contained the bar, the bathrooms, and the main stage for live music with dancing space. The upper floor had a few tables and balcony space to watch the shows from a higher perspective. The music thumped through the dark, black-lit illuminated space.  

The black lights flashed, turning white shirts stark and blue-tinged, and making the neon body paint stand out in streaks and swirls of green, pink, blue, yellow, and orange. You and Taylor painted each inch of exposed skin (because you were both a little drunk and it was fun). Taylor highlighted her verdant eyes with dots of neon green on her cheekbones. You painted swirling designs of neon pink on your arms with a smiled memory of Delilah.

You danced with the thumping bass reverberating through your bones. The crowd surged around you, jumping to the beat, and you threw your head back in a grin. You needed this, you realized. You needed to break the monotony and leave your stresses and heartache at the door. A muscular, shirtless guy with neon blue streaks across his chest gave you A Look. Taylor noticed it. You noticed it. She waggled her eyebrows at you as the mystery guy made his way through the dancing crowd to reach you.

His placed a tentative, seeking hand on your waist and you drew him in. This was how you forgot about Carmy. The best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. You linked your arms around his bulky shoulders and pressed your mouth to his. Taylor whooped.

“Get it, bitch!” She screamed above the noise of music.

You ignored the twisting guilty revulsion in your stomach. Carmy probably kissed other girls all the time. You weren’t exclusive. You never were and you never would be. You pressed yourself closer to the stranger, hoping to forget, and letting the music wash over you in powerful, swelling waves. He responded enthusiastically, cupping your ass, and delving his tongue between your lips. His aftershave was sharp and clean, and you desperately tried to not recoil from it. It was nothing like Carmy’s smoke-tinged, woodsy, and grease-tinged sweat. Stop thinking about him! You chastised yourself with a hard mental slap.

The stranger’s mouth dropped to your throat, and you tilted your head back to stare up at the lights. Their bright flash burned into your retinas and left after-images of ghostly blue and deep scarlet along the edges of your vision. Carmy’s face floated to the surface of your mind and his little boyish smirk before he left you a hickey on your breast. You swallowed harshly.

“I need a smoke.” You shouted into the strangers’ ear before pulling away. You hand-signaled to Taylor with two main fingers tapping your mouth. You also needed a drink. A strong one, preferably. You grabbed a shot from one of the shot girls carrying a tray around the outskirts of the dance floor. It incinerated the taste of the stranger’s tongue out of your mouth and burned beautifully down your throat.

You joined the rest of the smokers, huddled outside the building, in the cool night air. You borrowed a lighter (Taylor stole yours earlier in the evening) and plucked your phone out of your pocket. It was nearly 1 AM and you had two missed calls from an unknown number. No voicemails. It was likely a spam call trying to steal your social security number or convince you to buy erectile dysfunction medication. You inhaled a lungful of smoke and tapped the screen to call them back. The most recent call showed it arrived an hour ago.

It rang several times before connecting with a generic, robotic voicemail. The alcohol sloshed inside your skull and made you feel daring and reckless. Realistically, there was a small chance the unknown number was important. Given the hour and lack of voicemail, however, you doubted its legitimacy and used this opportunity to fuck around.

“Hey, uh. I don’t know who this is, but whatever you’re selling, you know, whether its Tupperware or holistic meds to make my tits bigger – I’m not interested. Alright?” You smiled into the receiver. “Alright. Cool.”

You finished smoking your cigarette with a gay couple making out next to you against the side of the building. With a strange clarity of thought, you realized you were glad you didn’t have Carmy’s number, because otherwise you would’ve texted him and showed up, sloshed and desperate, at his front door. You snapped a quick, cute selfie with the neon lights behind you before putting your phone away and returning to the pumping music and hot, unattached strangers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy woke with a startled jump. He pressed his hands to face, shuddering, as the nightmares left him in waves as slow as molasse. His clock beside his bed informed him that he was awake twenty minutes before his alarm. He fumbled for his phone and the words ‘NEW VOICEMAIL’ across the home screen made his heart leap.

He rapidly pressed the 1 on the lock screen until his phone opened. He brought the phone to his hear with shallow, nervous breaths. The first noise he heard was muffled, rumbling music. Then – your voice. Carmy released a heavy, relieved sigh that drew his shoulders into his chest. She’s okay. She’s fine.

He spent the day on a thin, razor wire, waiting for the inevitable fall and bisection of his composure. He tugged his fingers through his curled, sleep-mussed hair. It’s early and you’re likely sleeping, but that doesn’t stop him from opening his messaging app and typing.  

‘Got your number from Marcus. It’s Carm.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your phone vibrated noisily on the edge of the cool, porcelain tub. You lift your head from where it was pillowed on your arm and looked around—confused—before the evening comes back to you in snippets of hazy, soft-edged memory. This is Taylor’s hotel room. Your skin and clothes were smeared with pallid, white paint. It was rather unimpressive without the enhancement of the black-lights. You winced at the bright, painful light above your head. Why did you fall asleep in a bathtub with the lights on? God, past-drunk-you was a mess.

You blinked blearily at the text message.

‘Stalker.’ You write back. You went to save his number and typed ‘asshole’ in the name space before pausing and staring at the letters with a frown. You sighed, deleting it, and writing ‘Carmy’ instead. As you swiped back to the conversation and a few bubbles appeared on the screen. What was he doing awake at this ungodly hour? You rolled your tongue around in your dry, uncomfortable mouth.

‘Did your front of house get hit too?’

‘No.’ You worried your lower lip between your teeth before adding, in a second message, ‘You’re the one with all the bad luck.’

‘Yeah, I guess so.’

You stared at the screen with your heart flip-flopping inside your chest. This was fine, right? Friends texted. This was normal. You could text him without getting attached. A few bubbles appeared and then disappeared. You drummed your fingers against the edge of the tub.

The bubbles appeared again then vanished. You rolled your eyes, bringing your phone closer to your face and typing furiously.

‘I can see you typing!! Say what you wanna say, pussy.’

Carmy’s message arrived a second later. ‘I’m glad you’re OK.’

A thrilling, pleasant sensation prickled across your scalp and down your spine. Your thumb clicked the edge of your phone and turned off the screen. You flopped back into the tub, curling your knees close to your chest, and groaning at the spots dancing in front of your eyes. You hoped the sudden sensation of nausea was from drinking and not from the confusing, heart-fluttering text you just received. What did he mean?

“He’s just glad my window wasn’t blasted to hell.” You muttered to yourself while draping your arm over your tired, weak eyes. “Professional courtesy. That’s all.”

< Part Six > > >