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THIS WAS NAOMI'S THIRD TIME ON A BICYCLE. The first time all she could remember was that she was in kindergarten and everyone could ride one except her. So one day, she seized an opportunity. She got on one of her friend's and she began to pedal and, somehow in her attempt, she forgot the importance of balance and when she planted face-first into the grass, everyone was laughing. Even the teacher. The second time, was not so long ago. She was at Jessica's house and after telling her the same story, Jessica insisted they take out the bikes that she had in her garage. Naomi had to learn. That time, the problem was not so much her balance but her coordination. Nevertheless, when she fell she skidded across the asphalt in Jessica's driveway, the permanent bruises that painted her thighs made this time a lot harder to forget.

The third time, Naomi thought, would never come. She accepted the fact that she would go her entire life without ever knowing the thrill, the excitement, the freedom of riding a bicycle.

But, like many other things she'd entrusted in recently, that displacement had been crushed so dramatically it seemed ridiculous to have ever existed in the first place. Especially as the sharp wind sliced her skin awake, Naomi felt laughable when she thought of it.

This, sitting on the edge of the Tiger's bicycle and blazing through Riverside's roads carelessly, felt like destiny. Like, despite everything, this was where she was bound to end up. It was a wild thought to entertain for sure but recently, Naomi had come to realize that those were the thoughts she enjoyed entertaining the most. So, her shoulders fell and she smiled just a little brighter as The Guise carried her toward the unknown.

The police sirens had long been drowned out under the growls of their bicycle wheels on top of Riverside's unforgiving road. Naomi supposed that zipping through narrow alleys and back lanes made them unpredictable and hard to follow. Then like the rising sun, she realized that she was holding on to something legendary. The Guise, after all, was as legendary as they come. And, right then and there, she was with them, riding bicycles down Chestnut Street in the early dawn of Riverside without caring who sees and who took out their phones to take pictures. Naomi Morgan would've never guessed she'd be here. She didn't think anyone would've guessed she'd be here. But she was, and it might have been the single most legendary thing she had done all summer. She dipped her head backward to see the sun smiling down at her and chuckled.

Like so many other things, it was brittle and unheard at first. But it grew and grew until it was louder than the wind whipping in her hair. Till it was louder than the pained screams in her back. Till it was louder than the toes of her shoes rubbing against the road. The Tiger glanced back at her, and so did the Bull but their concealed faces only made it funnier. It was absurd. While the Bull faced forward again, Naomi could faintly hear the giggles of the boy she was sharing the bike with. She smiled a little wider and imagined that he was pedalling with a beaming smile. Naomi Morgan laughed and laughed and laughed, her voice filling the open road all the way down Mission Inn Avenue and past vaguely familiar buildings staring down at her in pride.

*

The Tiger and the Bull halted on a sidewalk unfamiliar to Naomi. By then she'd only briefly descended from her high to acknowledge that they were at the entrance of a restaurant. The space was open too, with chairs and tables put out where the moon hit the ground just right and tall palm trees frowning because they missed their chance to touch the sun. The three of them slowly rode in as Naomi's attention shifted downward, to the patterned floor designed with swirling symbols and free drawings, then upward, to the erecting slabs of wood adorned to look like a monster with many faces stacked on top of one another. She smiled at a particularly grumpy one, its teeth in a 'n' shaped frown.

When the Tiger got off, Naomi followed and the Bull came around to meet them. The boys exchanged a glance that she wondered how they managed to read while their expressions were masked. But they stepped off together nevertheless and went toward a bar on the far left of the property with a thatched roof spilling over the edges. Next to her, Naomi heard the Tiger begin speaking. "Hey, Xiomara," he said to a lone worker wiping the counter.

The girl didn't look up immediately. "Back already?"

"It is daybreak."

She raised her head briefly and dropped the cloth on her counter. Her brown eyes were only slightly less attracting than the tattoo swirling at the base of her neck. From Naomi's angle, it looked like a shadowed snake. The bartender gave Naomi an up-down. "Who's this?"

Naomi stared back, the after-taste of her laugh still lingering on her tongue.

"Saint's stray-"

"Her name is Naomi," he gave the Bull a glare, "and she has nowhere else to go."

The bartender made a thoughtful sound, then looked at Naomi again. She leaned forward. "You okay, girl?"

She hadn't asked it in the way Naomi was used to. As if it had been rehearsed for an entire lifetime to hold the right amount of sympathy and willingness. No, she asked it like she actually expected and wanted a real answer. But all of Naomi's answers were already predetermined. One of the lifeless things left her mouth before she could revive it with any true meaning. "I'm fine."

A disapproving look swamped the bartender's face before she shook her head and tutted. She grabbed a near bottle and poured a drink into a clean shot glass. She whistled. "Been there," she took her cheek into her jaw like it was bubble then slid the shot glass across the counter to Naomi, "On the house," she told her.

Naomi peered down into the thing and watched the alcohol still. Xiomara, the bartender, turned to the boys and gently told them to wait there till she returned. Then, she disappeared behind a wall of stringed beads hanging in the door-jam behind her. Naomi continued to idly stare at the shot glass in front of her. She wrapped her fingers around its cool, moist container and spun it between her index finger and thumb.

"Are you gonna drink that or stare at it all day?" At this point, she did not have to look up to know the Tiger was the one speaking, and she did not have to see his face to know he was teasing either.

She plopped herself on one of the stools and shrugged. "I don't know. Don't they destroy your body?" It was a rule in the Academy. You drink, your body fails. Your body fails, you're out. It was always that simple. At least it sounded that way when Mr Carson said it to them, but now that Naomi seemed to be looking failure straight in the eyes she couldn't help but think that it might actually be harmless.

The Tiger put his chin in his palm and watched her. "We all die someday."

The bull interjected then. "Wait, you've never had a drink?" Naomi shook her head. "Wow." The way he looked at her was entirely different from the way the Tiger did it. Despite the fact that they were wearing masks, it was clear. The Tiger was observing her. The Bull was inspecting. "Well, I guess you won't be needing this then." He grabbed the shot glass and lifted his mask to down it in one go. And just like that, failure was defeated.

"You sure you're from around here?" the Tiger asked.

Suddenly, Naomi noticed the red and green paints patterning the edges of the counter and walls. "Positive," she answered. The beads shuffled and they all turned around. A large man came out from them. He was unshaven, tips of his facial hair greying, and wore a crisply ironed grey suit. "El Tigre! El Toro! Bienvenidos, mijos!"

The Bull easily slipped into Spanish and returned a similar greeting. The two went back and forth excitedly. When the man noticed her, an array of syllables left his mouth and the Bull answered just as quickly. They were talking about her. In her ear, the Tiger leaned over and said, "Don't worry, I don't understand them either."

The man reached out a hand, "Hola, mija. You can call me Tio," he said to her, slipping back into English, his accent thick like a coat of honey.

She took his hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you."

He paused their handshake and squeezed it firmly. "If you plan to be out in these streets, mija, you'll need a grip stronger than that," he said smiling, "Come on." He looked like he was joking, but no one laughed and Naomi's mind tumbled into the thoughts of all the evil things that could be happening on the streets of Riverside.

Tio lifted a section of the bar counter and stepped over to the other side, joining The Guise and Naomi, before lowering it again. He locked it behind him and led them away from the bar, just right of the property where a thatched structure stood. It was a tall, maybe 14 feet, cone-shaped hut without a door nor windows as if someone, anyone had just gathered straw and built it there. To get in, they had to shuffle past the dry leaves and step into darkness.

Neither Tio nor the boys were in Naomi's sight any more. There were no movements. Standing quietly there in the pitch black insides of a place she did not know, Naomi began rethinking her decision to come here. Less legendary, more crazy.

But then, there was the sound of keys and clanking metals. Naomi stopped breathing. A loud creak erupted out of the darkness, followed by a sharp shot of light. Naomi squinted, catching a hint of Tio's black polished shoes before she realized the ground was opening up before her. Then, light exploded. Blinking back, Naomi saw Tio in the middle of the room holding open a small square trap door, light and faint voices coming from it. She blinked at it.

The Bull went first, stepping down into the hole so easily that Naomi assumed there had to be stairs helping him down. "Oh, and tell Sully we still have tacos if he's interested."

The Tiger went down next. "Sure thing, Tio."

Naomi looked between the trap door in the ground and Tio's large figure hovering over it. Where else was she to go? The road to hell is paved with good intentions, they say. What better intention was there than freedom? Naomi walked over to it, saw the stairs and began her slow descent.

The moment her head dipped under, she smelt pizza and alcohol. The trap door closed shut above her head. Naomi had arrived in the beginning of a long corridor walled off with low freezers and boxes, a few doors on either side. It looked like a storage unit. But the scent of alcohol and the sounds of shuffling feet were just ahead, The Tiger and The Bull making their way there. Naomi followed them down the corridor but stopping just a step short when she found herself entering a room that really highlighted just how low the ceiling was. In the centre of the basement was a big couch holding two people, girls Naomi realized, skipping through a flat screen television. To the left was a short boy going through pizza boxes on a wooden fold table.

The Tiger cleared his throat. Everyone looked up. Then, their eyes went to Naomi.

The Bull shouldered past and stalked over to a lone chair. "Sully," the boy rummaging pizza boxes looked up, "Tio says he has tacos."

The boy smiled widely, like a child at a tenth birthday party. He couldn't have been much older than William yet Naomi couldn't imagine her little brother managing a smile that big and bright. "Yes!" He jogged over to Naomi, his curly brown hair as lively as his step, and stopped in front of her abruptly to glance down at her ankle. He pointed to the brace she never took off. "Woah, what happened to your foot?" She smiled politely but before she could answer he added, "I'm Sully, by the way. Nice to meet you." He outstretched his hand.

Naomi almost shook it until she saw the grease coating his palm. He smiled sheepishly and began rubbing it into his pants. "I'm Naomi," she said anyway.

"So that's her name." One of the girls jumped over the back of the couch like it was a motion she practised in her sleep and waltzed over, her raven hair long and deadly behind her. With a petite index finger, she pushed Sully's hand to his sides. "Down boy." Turning to Naomi she smiled, "Nice to see you again. We haven't talked about anything like we've talked about you since Donald Trump became president." Naomi chuckled, though she wasn't so sure if she was supposed to; the other girl hadn't. "I'm guessing whatever you were crying over didn't get any better, huh."

Naomi almost went en pointe, out of habit. "I guess not."

The girl made a sound and nodded. Without their masks it was actually quite easy to identify who was who. "You're, the bunny rabbit," she pointed to the girl in front of her, then she turned to the small boy "And you're the monkey?"

They nodded. "That obvious, huh?" The girl poked the inside of her cheek and rested a hand on her hip.

Naomi's eyes glossed over the other girl sitting in the couch sporting a full afro, her dark skin like soft coffee under the cheap lights. "The Fox." Her white teeth shimmered when she smiled. Then Naomi remembered something. "You tagged the wall outside of the Performing Center."

"Oh yeah," the girl thought for a second. "It was really hot out that day."

"Why?" Naomi asked.

She sat up in the couch, exposing the mesmerising choker around her neck and began explaining with the flick of her wrist, pops of pink at her fingernails. "Legally, we might be homeless, but we're not complete savages you know. Riverside showed us a good time. That was our thanks."

"Yeah, but," Naomi realized the sets of eyes studying her and her voice unintentionally diminished as she finished, "why there, outside the Centre?"

"Because I asked her to put it there." a voice cut her off. The Tiger. His mask was off, finally showing off his light eyes and broad nose. His stance was predatory if not intimidating, leadership constructed his broad shoulders and everyone watched when he spoke. "A lot of dancers, actors and singers from there support us. Thought if you guys had to go to that dreadful place every day, might as well see some colour, you know. Especially the dancers. I know ballet isn't easy."

"What do you know about ballet?" Naomi retorted.

"Well, you're here aren't you?" He presented the basement with his open arms. Then, he smiled. "I'm Saint as I'm sure you've caught on by now. Our artist over there is Chyna," the black girl twinkled her pink fingernails dismissively in the air, her attention already back on the television, "that's Lia," the beautiful girl with the jet black hair smiled and Saint moved to point at the boy around the computer desk, " and that's Cairo." The Bull. The faintest hint of boredom passed over his face before he blinked and turned back to his computer screen. "He'll warm up to you," Saint added.

Lia folded her arms under her chest. "Welcome to the Guise." Glancing over the room, a worn out sofa and television were the only pieces of furniture that weren't coated in dust, the rest looked ancient.

In all honesty, Naomi expected a little more. After all, they were The Guise. Notoriously smart, taking social media by storm and angering systems across North America like they were ticking off a checklist. But their basement felt like it could come crashing down at any moment.

She took in their smiles next, in Cairo's case, content stares, and pondered on them. In ballet you were only truly happy if you had everything, the elegant roles, the exquisite party invitations and spotless dressing rooms, but in the Guise's profession, happiness seemed to come with—well, nothing. It's like they were happy for no reason.

"I got the tacos!" someone yelled behind them. Sully came running in, a plate with a foil paper full of small tacos clasped in his right hand. He sped past them and tossed himself over the couch. So that's a thing. Saint laughed. Chyna reprimanded him. Naomi watched.

"So, Naomi," Lia said, carrying assertion with her every word, "Why are you here?" Naomi supposed she wasn't trying to be offensive. Something about The Guise caused her to believe that was simply the way they all spoke to each other, without apology.

She stopped her foot from flexing into en pointe, "I don't know," she answered honestly.

Saint, it was hard to believe that was his real name, shrugged his shoulders. "Well you told us you had nowhere else to go, so why don't you start there. What happened to your family?"

Naomi thought for a moment. Under the gaze of only Lia and Saint she was able to consider, out of all things, her reasoning behind not just this decision but every decision she's had since she dropped out of the ballet.

"Just say it," a voice interrupted, "You want a selfie or a shoutout or something. Don't worry we'll give it to you. You went through all this trouble, I think you deserve it."

Saint turned to look at him. "Are you serious?"

The light from his computer was bright on his face. "She could get thousands of likes," he stated dryly.

Lia rolled her eyes and took Naomi's hand, leading her further into a corner of the basement while Saint went to say something hushed to the other boy. "Ignore him," she whispered. "He was like that when I got here too." That was the first time Naomi considered that there was once a time when The Guise, wasn't The Guise, but just a bunch of teenagers doing god-knows-what. She almost asked about it but she decided it wasn't the time.

"What I do know is that," she paused to wait for Saint to walk back over, "I don't want to go back home," she finished.

"I think we know what you mean," Lia said.

Saint put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, you can stay here as long as you want, okay?"

Naomi was about to protest but the deal seemed done. Lia strolled back over to the sofa and Saint told her where they kept the sleeping bags. Before he stalked off, she stopped him. The first thing she thought to ask came out of her mouth without a struggle, "So, does this make me one of you now?" It was a joke, really, but even on her own ears it didn't sound like one.

Saint only smiled. "Naomi, you've always been one of us."

Author's Note

A little longer than what we're used to but I had to do it.

This week's dedication belongs to @BlueBananaXO because she was lowkey mad that I didn't update for a while and she made sure to comment and lmk. Lol well, updates are back and the story will only get better.

So now you've met The Guise...thoughts?

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

Right then, in front of her, they seemed to be made up of so many other infinite things like youth and laughter, a little sadness and sarcasm.

Perhaps, Riverside's ruin had never been their responsibility at all. Perhaps, it was a slow storm that picked up along 6th avenue and drizzled atop rooftops till it became what it was now and everyone began to take notice.