From hatred to love. Trust turns to betrayal.
The story of the leader of a troublemaker group called the Jets and a lonely girl who has lived her life in hiding with little to no one knowing who she truly is.
Riff Lorton; leader of the Jets.
...
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A week has gone by ever since Amelia's encounter with a supposed Jet as Georgia had mentioned. She started seeing groups of different boys walking together. They had the same characteristics as Georgia had described. Easily said, they would most likely stand out if one of them stood in a group of working men.
She walked down the street in the night, kicking the foreign pebbles on the pavement. She had just closed up the Diner and was on her way back home. She hummed to her tunes and danced lightly by tapping her foot differently with every step she took. She wasn't bothered if anyone looked. All she knew was the street was quiet and the pavement was hers.
Little did she know, in the dark alley from across the street, had a group of boys who were killing their time in the night. They watched her play with her footsteps and laughed loudly. Some even mocked the way she moved and twirled. It caught the attention of the leader who had a cigarette in his mouth.
"Who's that girl over there?" the leader asked with smoke escaping his mouth.
Balkan shrugged, "Probably just a waitress who worked at a Diner in the no man's land."
The leader didn't respond, instead, he kept his eyes on her.
Diner, aye? Looks like that's going to be our next spot. I'd like to know who she is.
Amelia straightened her dress and apron. She twists and turns her body whilst looking into the mirror, making sure she looked her best. She talked to Georgia and Julie; another waitress, catching up on what they did on their rest days. As Amelia listened to Julie speak, she noticed how Georgie's expression dropped. Julie's face started to drop as well. Not only that, the whole diner had gone silent. The two girls that stood with her froze and she was certain that time didn't stop. At least not for her. Their eyes were looking behind Amelia which she knew was the front door. The small sweet bell rang with a strong wind blowing on Amelia's back. Certainly, someone must've harshly swung open the door.
Julie nudged Amelia's arm and as clueless as she was, she nodded as an acknowledgement that someone had entered. She turned around and met with a pair of blue but brown eyes. It seemed brown on one side yet blue too. Her eyes diverted to his stance—hands on his waist, pale skin, hair swept to the right.
"You. What are you doing here?"
His lips curved up to a grin upon realising who she was. He kept the grin on his face before turning to walk over to an empty booth. Julie was forced to serve and take their orders. Georgia cling to Amelia's arm which had a raging fire burning through her soul.
"That's the Jets," Georgia whispered.
"Yeah? Well, the smiley face was the asshole that stained my dress," she scowled.
"What?" Georgia questioned, looking more stunned than when she first guessed it was the Jets. "That's Riff! The leader of the Jets."
