𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

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To the Curtis family, success was a red herring

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To the Curtis family, success was a red herring. It was a romanticized story of white picket fences and shiny new cars that were within reach if they waded through the muck of their current life. But it was easy to drown, to live in reality they were born into rather than chase "scarlet fish", according to Darrel Curtis Jr.

He would remember his ninth-grade teacher with her saccharine red lips twisting into a smile that brought out every line on her face, telling him that he could go to college if he got good grades on his essays. Only, he would need money to purchase an encyclopedia for research, books that his wealthier peers allowed to collect dust on their black oak bookcases And he remembered that now as he stood in front of his friends and family, just inches away from the shiny door emblazoned with the words he dreamt of for nights without end:

Blue & Curtis Construction & Contracting.

"And, uh, I couldn't do none of this without my family and their support."

"Yeah, after arguments at dinner 'til our chicken got cold," Ponyboy said under his breath to Virginia. She hid a smile, keeping her emotions in line in front of the small sprawl of reporters and the entirety of the Northside. After all, it wasn't every day that a greaser from the trenches of poverty could create a grassroots business of his own.

She hoped her lipstick didn't smudge on her teeth. Behind her pulled lips, the tip of her tongue ran across her teeth repeatedly. There was nothing else she could do, standing in between her brothers. Darry wanted them in order of birth as if the town didn't recognize the hood's resident Prince Charming and his two fire-proof siblings.

"Stop doing that with your dress," Sodapop mumbled. His eyes kept twinkling, enhanced by his dazzling smile which drew the flashes of cameras toward him.

Virginia's fingers constantly twisted at a piece of netting jutting into her leg. She squirmed slightly, trying her hardest not to rub her skin against a slab of concrete.

"I can't, this thing is awful," Virginia said through grit teeth. She restrained a hiss when she felt her brother's hand swiftly smack hers. Fortunately, the cameras didn't capture that moment.

The dress was old (significant of their humble nature) but it bore the most wonderful shade of emerald that brought out her eyes. The sleeves grazed her elbows, cinched by two brown buttons she had barely sewed on before Darry had them all out of the house. Tucked behind her ear was one of the wild daisies that grew on a bush, flanking the company doors.

"Thank you all," Darry finally concluded his speech, his lips pressing into a tight smile. He wore the deep gray suit that made eyes brighten at the social mixer, with a modest white button-up rather than a teal one.

Virginia smiled softly, joining in the applause. Her movements were graceful and controlled, unlike her brothers, Two-Bit Mathews, Steve Randle, and Johnny Cade screaming their heads off. They were allowed to for the morning. One of their own ascended the ranks on pure grit.

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