Les Champs Elysees

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Santiago decided this was why he seldom entered into relationships of any sort with other people. Life on your own was dangerous enough; add a girl and some gunmen to the mix, and it was like tiptoeing through landmines. Still, there were fringe benefits. Conversation was one of them. He looked at Rachel until the light changed and she started to speak.

"I accomplished what I've always wanted to."

A strange way to downplay her Tony award. Santiago imagine it sitting on some shelf in New York City, gathering dust and wondering where the woman whose name was engraved upon it had disappeared to. In the current light of things, maybe the Tony seemed unimportant to Rachel. Santiago, though, smiled with nostalgic fondness for Broadway showtunes he didn’t miss and monologues in the mirror that once kept him from getting into the one bathroom in his apartment. Over two decades of work, Rachel got what she wanted.

And in record time, too,

Life was too short—or, some days, too long, if you asked Santiago—to accomplish everything you wanted. If there was one thing he first admired—and still admired—about Rachel, it was her work ethic. Life was short, nasty and brutish, but somehow, she overcame.

"I had been doing great for a long time up until," She smirked, "Well, this point. But, I'm still doing great. This is just a disturbance."

First a Tony award, now a euphemism of the year award. Rachel Day was clearly on a winning streak. Santiago suppressed a snort, but just barely, and his lips twitched upwards on one side. Disturbance. And Las Gardunas and the mob were just schoolyard bullies.

"What about you, stranger?" She inquired. "You look too good to tell me that the year didn't treat you well."

“Hah.” Santiago made a left turn. “If you weren’t such a good actress, I might believe you on that.”

He looked over at her for a moment and shook his head. She wasn’t allowed to tell him he looked good. It wasn’t fair. He was getting on with his life nicely now. As nicely as he could hope for, anyways. Besides, it was such a blatant lie. Santiago didn’t look good. And if he did, it was only because Catalina refused to be seen with anyone who even hinted at a blue-collar background and the woman was in control of Santiago’s every move for the time being.

“I’ve bee good. Can’t complain,” he said truthfully, then looked back at the road. “Busier than I’ve been in a long time, but that’s how I like it.”

He supposed he could have been vaguer, but not much. It wasn’t as if Rachel would want to know just how much he had on his plate before her phone call. She’d get a guilt-complex and apologize. Santiago didn’t want apologies. He wanted results.

“Congratulations on the Tony. We streamed the awards show online.”

We, being Myron, Santiago, and a whole host of other “first” Rachel Day fans. He didn’t think he’d need to clarify that one.

“Think it was the first awards show I actually almost enjoyed.”

He looked at her, smirking lazily as he made another turn. It was true, though. Santiago wasn’t one for glitz and glamor and he’d protested the event’s ostentatious nature throughout. But whenever the camera panned to show the stars, or else trained on Rachel, he shut his mouth even if Broadway, evening gowns, and emotional speeches weren’t his thing. He’d been, in a weird way, quietly proud of her.

Something he wasn’t sappy or patronizing enough to admit.

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

The chit chat was casual and it was aiding in the downplay of the situation, helping Rachel Day remain calm. In the back of her mind though, she was mustering up a plan- her next move. If this weren't reality, and she were sitting in the theaters with a bag full of buttery popcorn, watching this happen to someone else with suspense music, this would make for such a riveting moment in cinema. As much as she was all for theatricality, this was real life and she was facing it head on. This was Rachel's life and not a movie. It wasn't like if she made a flub the director could yell 'cut', and she could take it back promising for a better performance. One false move and Rachel Day could almost lose her life again. Only next time she may not be so lucky, which was why she needed to make sure there was not a next time.

"Hah. If you weren’t such a good actress, I might believe you on that.”

Rachel, with a smirk, glared over at Santiago. He never could take a compliment could he? Which almost made him even more attractive. Times never change sometimes. She would leave it at that. Maybe she shouldn't be noting verbally how good he looked. At least not to him. She would save it for her diary. Which at this rate, she may as well sell for a good book and call it fiction so the public did not think she was lying. Goodness, she was dwelling on, 'this is actually happening' too much. Rachel needed to forecfully wrap her mind around it and get it together.

“I’ve bee good. Can’t complain.”

Rachel Day nodded to herself, glad that things had been 'good' for him. Santiago deserved it.

“Busier than I’ve been in a long time, but that’s how I like it.”

In the back of her mind, way far back since everything seemed to be going on in the back of her mind, Rachel wondered what being 'busy' to Santiago Ortiz was nowadays. There were many sides to Santiago, and one side of him, Rachel Day secretly knew apart from everyone else. Whether that still be true at this point she didn't know. Rachel would never forget the night he told her about being apart of the gang at one point in his life. She would never forget and never tell a soul. It was something that she would like to think kept them connected somehow throughout these months. It was silly because of course Santiago had probably found someone to trust just as much as he did her. It was selfish to wish he hadn't. Rachel Day wondered what was new in the world that she was once apart of. For awhile that side of Santiago was Rachel's life. Now, without the aid of Santiago, she had found her way back into that lifestyle. Her world was running a funny little cycle, wasn't it? Of course, she could be over reacting and it could just be Opera House affairs. Santiago was a man of many different shades.

“Congratulations on the Tony. We streamed the awards show online.”

The twist of conversation and the compliment she never would expect to hear from him, caused Rachel to shift in her seat and blink wildly, her features suddenly lighting up for a moment. He watched it? Rachel Day could remember sitting in her crimson velvet seat, watching as the camera panned to theater's finest, and she couldn't help but wonder if someone were on the other side of that lens, watching the program, and actually rooting for her. Rachel went with her co-star of the current show she was in. She did not expect to win, but luckily she had been preparing a Tony speech since she was six years old in her shower with her shampoo bottle. A Tony award was much heavier than a shampoo bottle.

“Think it was the first awards show I actually almost enjoyed.”

Without warning, Rachel barked a laugh. The laugh vibrated against her stomach, and it felt so good to laugh again. She hadn't laughed in a long time. "I would have streamed online to actually watch you watch the Tony awards." She grinned, gazing out the front window. "Now that's entertainment." After a beat, she smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

With a heavy breath, Rachel Day's body seemed to melt against the cushion of the heated seat, her rump really enjoying the nice warmth. Her breathing was beginning to fall back into a steady pattern, which was good, because everytime she began to panic her heart would skip, pounding against the damage done to her chest. She wouldn't think about how her body was suppose to be recovering, or the fact that she had just ripped an IV out of her arm. Rachel was beginning to become more of a tough cookie than she was months ago. Back then, Rachel Day acted as if she were tough, which really wasn't tough in the first place. Being alone in New York City caused Rachel to build up this guard around her. A lot of Shotokan karate training and Thai boxing had a lot to do with that. It taught her not only physcial strength but mental. Which is why she took a moment to breathe and concentrate on her center rather than allowing the pain to take over her body. Rachel Day was in control.

Think about what the next step is.

Blinking her eyes in a more determined way, she squinted straight ahead, clenching her jaw. A thought raced through her mind suddenly, and she slid out her purple cellphone from her gray zip up pocket. Examing it, she took out the battery, looking at it like it were a science project .Who knew how close they had come to her before the shooting. They obviously knew where she was that night. One thing Rachel Day learned from watching Santiago, tagging along with him, and being apart of that world- it was strategic and well thought out of- every move. A target was to be known from the inside out. A cellphone was now an essential for everyday life. The perfect object to get close. It could have been tapped or their could be a tracker. Maybe it was too much of paranoia at this point, but it sure seemed like it could happen in her mind.

"I should probably dump this." She said outloud, feeling a bit more sane that Santiago were able to listen to her plan and know what was going on, rather than Rachel staying inside of her head. "I don't want to take any chances."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Rachel’s bark of a laugh made Santiago slam the brakes. He jolted forward, thankful for his seatbelt. He hadn’t heard that sound in a while; he hadn’t expected it, either. The one moment he was being genuine… Santiago scowled and eased off the brake. The car slowly rolled forward.

"I would have streamed online to actually watch you watch the Tony awards," Rachel said, grinning. Santiago looked at her, still not as amused as she. She nearly gave him a heart attack. "Now that's entertainment."

Santiago let out a wary laugh and the car went back to normal speed.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

He smiled, blithely pretending she hadn’t surprised him with her laugh or that he hadn’t been scowling moments ago. No point in dwelling on it, he thought, since they were moving right along nicely enough. The car; conversation halted into a strangely comfortable silence. Santiago drove over a bridge and looked out at the dark water on the Seine. The city was nice this time of night. Peaceful.

Or eerie, if you thought about it.

But Rachel seemed content, leaning into her seat and Santiago supposed he could take the duty of watching for bogeymen around every corner. Eyes on the road, eyes on the sidewalks, eyes checking the rearview mirror.

"I should probably dump this," said Rachel. Santiago looked at her and saw that she was looking at her cellphone. “I don't want to take any chances."

Santiago rolled down the window and slowed the car.

“Aim for the river,” he said. “It’ll be years before someone finds it.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

When the car began slowing down, something grabbed at Rachel Day's throat throwing herself into a panic, and her hand grabbed at the handle of the car door. What was happening? Why were they slowing down? Before she could react any further she looked outside her window and saw that they were pulling along side the river.

"Aim for the river." Santiago told her, as Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat looking down at her cellphone. “It’ll be years before someone finds it."

She would never admit to it because it sounded so silly and materialistic, but throwing out her cellphone was painful. Rachel figured it was because she didn't like throwing out her things. Anyone would claim the same emotion, she was sure of it. It... well... It sucked! It really sucked. Rachel Day kept her composure in the car, but on the inside she wanted to punch something incredibly hard. The emotional release would feel great. For now, she would throw it into the river. Because until Rachel could get to the bottom of this, she would have throw away anything that was around from before this point in her life.

Rachel took the cellphone in her strong arm and whipped it out the window as hard as she could, grunting under her breath in the process, and allowing herself to rip out a load of rage that she had burning inside. She quickly turned back to look straight ahead hearing a faint splash. With a tight jaw, she began strumming her fingers against the center console between the two seats. With her new 'lifestyle' she would add punching bag to the list.

"It's just a cellphone." She murmured, rolling up the window. It wasn't about the cellphone though. Heat hit her body like a smack. Rachel, getting a tad antsy, rolled down the window a few pinches. "I actually need a little air."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

The cellphone soared out the window until out of sight. The faint splash as it hit the water brought a grim smile to Santiago’s lips. He started to drive again.

"It's just a cellphone." Rachel said after a few moments. Her voice was quiet and above it, Santiago could hear the drumming of her fingers on the armrest between them. "I actually need a little air."

She cranked down the window and a blast of February air hit him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Why was she so stressed out about something as small as a cellphone? Fixation, he guessed. Displacement. Some sort of pseudo-scientific word someone smarter than Santiago had coined a long time ago.

“It’s just a cellphone,” he echoed. “And we’ll get you a new one in a couple days.”

Santiago had trashed a cellphone when he left Spain. It had been nice, riding through the countryside on his motorcycle without worrying about GPS or constant, worried and angry ringing in his pocket. Of course, it was as “nice” as being on the run could have possibly been. Being homeless, sleeping in hostels and on street corners. Hindsight often rubbed that bit out.

“Actually,” he said. “We’ll probably get you several over the next few months. Don’t want to tie you down to a contract.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

Rachel Day could feel the nausea boiling in the pit of her stomach and a metal taste in the back of her throat. She continued to swallow it away, trying once again, to center herself. Right now that all seemed like jargin. She could feel her hot cheeks still even though the cold air was hitting directly at her face.

“It’s just a cellphone."

Hearing her words again she sighed. Rachel knew she probably looked like a diva spazz, but it wasn't about the cellphone. It was more than just all of that, but she really did not feel like soul searching or anything. Tonight she would be going against what actors do, and she would internalize everything. One day it would make for some good emotional recall, but for tonight it was only for her to feel.

“And we’ll get you a new one in a couple days.”

Rachel's eyes flickered over to Santiago. We?

"Actually, we’ll probably get you several over the next few months. won’t want to tie you down to a contract.”

Guilt and anxiety began making her muscles tense up. Rachel Day did not, by any means, want to get Santiago Ortiz dragged into this. He had a life here and she had not been apart of it for a year. He did not owe her anything. So how fair was all of this? It was already so much that he had done tonight. Rachel would not want to tie him into all of this, bringing him down with her. Like he said, he was good. He wasn't complaining. He was busy.

"I can do it." Rachel blurted out before she could catch herself. Realizing what she had said, quickly she began explaining, sitting up. "I mean- I should do it. You don't have to be apart of this, Santiago." Turning to him, she put a hand on his forearm for a quick moment and looked at him with round eyes. "I appreciate you and I'm so thankful, but-"

Returning her hand to her lap, she shrugged, biting her bottom lip and looking straight ahead. She was struggling. Mostly because she knew that she wanted him in on this if not in the tiniest of ways. Santiago knew more about this than she could wrap her mind around, and that made her feel safe. Goodness, this was a pain.

"This shouldn't have to be your battle, Santiago." Rachel Day stated. "It's mine. You've already done a lot tonight."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Santiago knew the best places to get things under the table. Cellphones were scarcely hard to come by. Black market ones were cheap, easy to come by, and easy to replace. You could get a new number every two or three weeks doing that. Santiago didn’t mind cluing Rachel in on a few of his secrets.

"I can do it."

Well then. Santiago didn’t look at her. He chewed on the scar inside his mouth and his hands shifted on the steering wheel. She couldn’t get out of a hospital half a world away, rent a car by herself, or get a taxi to take her to her hotel, but she could get a black market cellphone on her own? Fine. Santiago would like to see her try. See how long it took the mob to find her.

"I mean- I should do it,” she said, as if that clarified everything. “You don't have to be a part of this, Santiago."

She rested a hand on his forearm and he stopped gripping the wheel with taut-knuckled intensity. She moved away the second he was even a fraction more relaxed. Their eyes met.

"I appreciate you and I'm so thankful, but-"

She broke their gaze. Santiago looked back at the road. There was always a “but”.

“This shouldn't have to be your battle, Santiago. It's mine. You've already done a lot tonight."

“Fine,” Santiago said evenly. “I get it.”

He did. There were things you wanted to handle alone. He wasn’t sure if it was always the smartest of choices, but desire to maintain independence was usually stronger than rationale.

“I’ll be around if you need someone,” he said. “Same apartment; same number. I’ll let you know if either changes.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

Pride was literally the only thing Rachel Day had left at this point. If she couldn't even keep her old clothes, phone, or Tony award- then she would make darn sure that she maintained her dignity and strength throughout this. Being independent would help her. Rachel knew that it probably was not the most genius of ideas, but for now it was the only one she had and was going to stick to. She had made it on her own in The Big Apple for a year by herself, and had recovered from a bullet that was suppose to kill her alone- it would be pathetic not to at least try.

"Fine. I get it.”

Rachel Day really hoped that Santiago did, but if he said that he did then he did. Santiago Ortiz was not the kind of person to say something that he did not mean. Still, the even note in his voice always had made Rachel think that he were distant and snappy. It was dumb, she knew it was. Just because he didn't match her spazz did not mean that he was being a sass. Of course, she was overly sensitive right now, and rightfully so.

“I’ll be around if you need someone. Same apartment; same number. I’ll let you know if either changes.”

Biting her lower lip harder Rachel Day sunk deeper into her seat and nodded silently. Goodness, she could feel her eyes begin to burn. What was this? No, she had been doing so great so far. She just felt lonely was all. At this point all she wanted was a hug. Just a simple hug. Silently, she shifted her arms slowly so they were hugging at where her seat belt was tugging at her waist. Holding herself was not comforting. Rachel Day was still a human being no matter how tough she could be. She was still a human being with reactions to things that happen in her life. She was in pain physically. She could feel the spot where her IV was swelling and in pain- she could feel her chest and the damage- she could feel the emptiness of leaving everything behind. Wow, this was not fun. But she wouldn't ignore it. She would let it pass through her and then tomorrow allow herself to move forward.

With that permission slip came a couple tears. Focusing straight ahead still, Rachel Day released her quivering lip and silently shed a couple more tears, but kept her features together and remained silent. Mustering up as much bravery as she could, the sense of needing a hug growing strong, Rachel shifted her hand that was around herself to move to Santiago's side of the car and rest against his lower shoulder, her fingers lightly holding onto his leather jacket. She swallowed, shutting her eyes. It wasn't a hug, but the contact would have to suffice. If this were awkward, she very much did not care at this point. Because Rachel knew Santiago and at this point he was the only thing she weren't tossing away right now. He was the reminder that she was still going to be Rachel Day.

"I'm sorry." She whispered in a strained voice that was raspy and trying to pull through. Rachel's eyes continued to look straight ahead, silent tears continuing to fall. "I just need... I need this for a moment, you know?"

No, he probably didn't know. Santiago was braver than she was. He faced worse things than this. Rachel was crying in front of him right now and she looked like an ugly duck when she cried too.

Rachel Day continued to keep her against him though.

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

He was a better ex-boyfriend than he was boyfriend. Offering to be there for her was not something Santiago thought was in the scope of his responsibilities. Rachel even said it wasn’t. Santiago shifted his jaw back and forth as he thought. He had the sudden urge for a cigarette, but he knew better than to smoke in a rental car. Still, the air of the car smelled wrong. Like someone had scrubbed the interior down and still failed to completely cover the fast food stench. He almost couldn’t wait to drop Rachel off and call it a night, since it was by far one of the weirder ones he’d had in a long time. Including Catalina hiring him as a private investigator and a production of Tchaikovsky designed with a post-modern set and costumes. It had to be worse for Rachel. Of course it was. But it was strange on the whole. Like a little piece of his past had been super-glued to the present on the whim of Fate.

It was even more like old times when Rachel leaned against him. Santiago almost gave a start. He didn’t, but he looked at her incredulously.

These weren’t “old times”.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She didn’t look at him, but Santiago could see the gleam of tears on her cheeks under the moonlight. "I just need... I need this for a moment, you know?"

Santiago pulled away.

His arm reached around her shoulders in an awkward sort of embrace as he drove single-handedly. These weren’t “old times”, but she was still Rachel. Still just a shade more woman than girl; still the sort who needed comforting.

She deserved to be comforted. The girl had lost her mother just over a year ago. Her father was trying to kill her. She’d sacrificed her life in Paris to pursue her dreams; there was no guarantee anyone would take her back unquestioningly. It was a hard road. Harder to walk alone.

Maybe that was why it still fell to Santiago to offer her support. He knew few people who’d understand half of what Rachel was going through. And even if he only had fuzzy details, Santiago was ahead of the curve.

“Sure,” he said quietly. “I’m gonna pull over a second. Don’t want to drop you off at your hotel like this. Concierge might ask questions.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

Rachel had forgotten how old she was. Not that she couldn't keep track, she wasn't that bad at math, but mentally she had forgotten. Rachel Day was thrown into another world in New York City. She made decisions by herself, lived alone, and was in a career to which anyone would do anything to get one step ahead. Living like that made people grow up and sometimes too quickly. It wasn't until this particular moment that Rachel Day realized how she was still young, and with that, she felt a little less mortified for crying and needing comfort.

When Santiago pulled away from her lean, Rachel could feel the heat emanating from her cheeks. Sure she needed comfort, but maybe she shouldn't have asked it from Santiago Ortiz? Maybe it was beginning to become too awkward for him-

Then he wrapped an arm around. Rachel Day released her breath that was was holding and sunk into his arm, really feeling soothed. Santiago maybe was her ex-boyfriend, but he knew her more than anyone else still. Rachel had not found someone worthy of what they once had, and she probably never would completely reveal everything to someone else. Rachel would continue to love and appreciate Santiago in her own way. With that, it was almost as if he were still the closest person she had in her life. Was that wrong? Maybe it was, but that was why there was internal dialogue and personal secrets! For now, she would accept the comfort and be thankful for it.

“Sure.” Santiago responded. Rachel smiled to herself for a quick moment feeling a little less like a drama queen. He understood, or at least was a pretty great actor himself.

“I’m gonna pull over a second. Don’t want to drop you off at your hotel like this. Concierge might ask questions.” Rachel nodded, having her eyes shut and the tears slowing down. That would look bad; Rachel Day walking in with absolutely no luggage, puffy red eyes, and looking like the walking dead because she was almost certain that was what she looked like at this point.

When the car stopped, Rachel continued to lean into his arm with her eyes closed and focused on her breathing. Feeling a twist of pain in her chest, she put a clutching hand on it, her fingers digging into the fabric lightly and winced for a quick moment. It wouldn't help obviously, but sometimes it was a mental thing- like understanding she could feel her heart beat meant that she was alive and alright. Strange, yes, but whatever works right? Of course she wasn't really doing her body any good, but a little twist of pain here and there was better than ending up at the morgue.

"Whew..." She noise, forcing herself to open her eyes after a moment and actually say something to break the silence. Rachel blinked, a couple stray tears falling. Looking over to Santiago, she swallowed with a tight smile. "I just need to like, let it set in, acknowledge, and then just-" With her two fingers on the center console, she made walking legs and walked it down the end of the console, "Move right along."

Shutting her eyes again, a few more tears falling slowly but keeping a calm and steady tone. "If you need your arm back," She whispered, leaning in a little more and putting an elbow on top of the center console, placing the side of her head on her fist. "You just let me know, okay?"

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

In actuality, no concierge worth his or her job would ask questions unless they thought Rachel was on drugs, and even then, there were about a million customer confidentiality laws. Santiago was beginning to brush up on the legal system from the other side of the jail bars. He called it curiosity, but everything he did had practical ends these days. Most everything. Picking up his ex-girlfriend from the airport at two in the morning wasn’t anyone’s definition of “practical”, but there they were. He told her that was why they were stopping—to avoid suspicious questions from a concierge—but in actuality it was because Santiago knew she’d want to save face. She could cry in front of him; not others. The girl deserved her pride. Santiago seldom—almost never—cried in front of anyone. If he had been in Rachel’s shoes, he’d want the same sort of favor done for him.

He parked the car by the river. No doubt they’d look like some locals going for a midnight drive, perhaps even a midnight rendezvous, to any passing cop. If someone got suspicious and asked, they had their alibi.

Santiago didn’t think there were any police around. He was also familiarizing himself with their night beats.

Rachel leaned hard against him. Santiago realized that, in a weird way, he’d become a professional shoulder to cry on in the last year since they’d spoken. Reese, Myron, Catalina. They all came to him in need, told him their life stories, and he’d take their secrets to the grave. He had broad shoulders for a reason.

"Whew..." Rachel said at long last. She smiled tightly at him. "I just need to like, let it set in, acknowledge, and then just-" With her two fingers on the center console, she made walking legs and walked it down the end of the console, "Move right along."

“You got it.”

Santiago started the car back up and returned to the road. All the while, steering with one hand.


"If you need your arm back," She whispered, leaning in a little more and putting an elbow on top of the center console, placing the side of her head on her fist. "You just let me know, okay?"

“Sure thing,” he said, half smiling. They were moving right along, as requested. After another silence, Santiago nodded towards the glove box. “Check in there, see how much space there is. And there might be napkins for your eyes.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day


“Sure thing."

Rachel Day half smiled. Santiago didn't take his arm back. That was a good thing, because Rachel still needed it. He knew that too, she was certain of it. It was silent, and Rachel could feel her eyes growing heavy. Goodness, she hadn't slept outside of the hospital in awhile, or had a good sleep without the aid of drugs either. Something gurgled in her stomach when she thought about sleeping tonight, but then she remembered she had assembled her gun and had it on her, as well as the human guns she had been training on! Plus, hotels had great room service, which real food sounded amazing at this point, and not to mention the little chocolates on the pillows. Alrighty, maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad.

“Check in there, see how much space there is. And there might be napkins for your eyes.”

Rachel Day hadn't realized that a few tears had come out as she was lost in her daze, and Santiago's voice brought her back. Doing as he said, she leaned forward to look in the compartment, and she rummaged with her hands. Nothing. Which was perhaps a good image for the company. "Nothing." She said, closing the compartment.

Bringing down the mirror up ahead, the lights made her squint for a moment, and Rachel Day looked at herself. Rachel hadn't looked in the mirror in a long time. Now looking, there was a reason for that. Whatever- looks were not a concern right now. Her eyes were puffy and red from the dry tears. Tucking in her hands in her sweater sleeves she began wiping at her eyes with it. She could tell she had lost a little weight, but it was expected and would totally gain it back with that room service! Also, she was pale like a ghost. Also again, Rachel needed to recognize what she had just done. She was not going to come out looking like a beauty queen. It didn't matter.

Shutting the mirror, she relaxed back, and looked over at Santiago. "I want to hear about you." She told him with a smile, genuinely interested. Rachel missed him. "Give me an update."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

When the glove compartment turned out to be empty, Santiago swore under his breath. He expected it, he guessed; still. He wished they were on his motorcycle. They’d have more things that they needed. At least, Santiago assumed they would. Magical thinking; he probably didn’t have Kleenex stashed in his storage compartment. He was a single, thirty-two year old man, not someone’s doting mother.

"I want to hear about you," Rachel said. Santiago looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was smiling. "Give me an update."

He could start with a number of things. He could tell her about work, the production of Tchaikovsky music and dance they’d just wrapped up. The Garnier had once been Rachel’s home, after all. He could talk about Myron and Reese; it wasn’t his place. He could tell her about the Reyes family, and risk losing her trust, since he was somewhere now between gangster hit-man and legitimate private detective. He could tell her about Lola, but it sounded stupid to start off with “I got a dog”. He could tell her about language lessons with Penny or about Georgette and her wicked humor and long legs, but not without increasing the awkwardness of driving his ex-girlfriend to a hotel in the dead of night. Santiago bit his lower lip.

“I’m thinking about quitting my job,” he said at long last.

It was the first time he’d admitted it; out loud or internally. Santiago looked over at her.

“I’ve got some other prospects lined up. And you and I both know me as an artist is total bullsh*t. It’s been a long time coming.”

[Deleted]

Rachel Day

Genuinely, Rachel Day wanted to hear something about Santiago Ortiz. Not only would it distract her, but she had missed him and cared for him. They were not the same people as they were a year ago when they split up. Which, was freaky when she thought about it. What had changed about Santiago? Was he dating or engaged? Wow, why was that one of the first questions... Um, had his favorite color changed? Were he and Myron still friends? Goodness, for all Rachel knew the Opera House had been burnt down months ago, Santiago had children with some beautiful woman he was bound to have met, and- Well, it was not worth just assuming. Rachel had for certain changed, but if things had changed that much she wouldn't be able to wrap her mind around it.

“I’m thinking about quitting my job."

Rachel Day didn't know if that were suppose to be as big of a blurt as it sounded. Did he even know what he had just said? The two met eyes. She was shocked.

“I’ve got some other prospects lined up. And you and I both know me as an artist is total bullsh*t. It’s been a long time coming.”

Rachel looked at him silently before nodding her head and looking straight up ahead. Really, she should have realized that it was going to happen eventually. Had he even been happy at the Opera House? She couldn't remember, and maybe that was one reason why their relationship failed. Whatever- too late to linger on that now. Still, 'other prospects'?

Ignoring the artist insult toward himself, because no matter what Rachel said, Santiago would always be cruel to himself- she crinkled her lips together in thought.

"I understand." Rachel murmured, really understanding actually. Santiago Ortiz didn't need to stay at the Opera House. He was outstanding at what he did, that went without saying. But she could see how he would become tired of it.

"So what's up your sleeve as of now?" She inquired, raising an eyebrow and turning her head toward him. "Y'know," She added with a light smirk. "to keep this interrogation going and all."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Once the words were out there, there was no taking them back. It was fine by Santiago to leave them hanging. As he said, it had been a long time coming. He shouldn’t feel so shocked. The thing was, he really had loved—perhaps did love—his work as a stage manager. But a man could only herd cats for so long without feeling like an idiot. He was getting nowhere; he could go no further. And while Santiago once protested normalcy and stability were all he craved, once faced with them as a real prospect, he could no longer imagine quiet retirement. He was thirty-two years old. It was too early for quiet retirement.

But other prospects? What would he do once he found out what happened to Lorenzo? Market himself for hire as a private investigator? Go back to the gang?

Other prospects. Santiago didn’t have them; he just had a desire to run.

"I understand," Rachel said.

Santiago looked away from her. He doubted it; he didn’t understand it, either. As usual, ennui had crept into his bones and made him ache with restlessness. But instead of acknowledging it, fixing it, he was running. Because running had served him so well.

"So what's up your sleeve as of now? Y'know, to keep this interrogation going and all."

“You know the drill, Rachel,” said Santiago lightly. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”