S2/02. Bad Blood

2.10 Retrospective: Rosa Mirelli

Summer 1994, a recording studio in Oasis Springs

There was this band at the record label Rosa worked at. They weren't special, just the same as many others. One day they came back from a tour in Europe, and their vocalist was a different one than the one they'd left with.

He was a bit younger than them, looked like your typical tall, dark, and handsome, but boy, did he have eyes.



They said more than a thousand words could. There was a sadness, hurt, and a fire.

He had quite a temper, but no one said a word against him. He was too good a vocalist and too good at capturing an audience, and if they’d let him go, he'd get offers from better agents and bigger bands.

He'd captured Rosa too, fully.

She'd never believed in love at first sight, but he'd changed that.

She had to have him.



Patiently she observed him, learned about his habits, his likes and dislikes, his moods.
He often stayed after everyone else went home already. He smoked a lot and practiced more, such a perfectionist.

It wasn't easy, but she'd kept a professional distance. No way she'd blow this up, she had to take it slow, very slow, to make sure she'd get him eventually.

Finally the day was there when Rosa was sure she could successfully make a move. She'd found an excuse to work late too. No need to have unnecessary distractions around.

She almost missed him.

He still had time for a coffee, though.
She had a feeling he had a pretty good idea about her ulterior motives.
It worried her, but him seeing right through her scheme made him even more fascinating.

Turned out he didn’t mind her scheme.

Turned out she couldn't keep her cool during their first private meeting, like she'd intentionally planned – no sex on the first date if you want it to be serious? That ship had sailed...

She could've slapped herself for her lack of self-control.

But surprisingly, it also turned out he didn't play by the common rules.

"You hungry?" He asked. "Barney’s is still open."

Rosa would rather starve to death than put a foot onto that dumping ground, but these were different circumstances now. If she'd have to get food poisoning to still turn this into something permanent, she'd take it.

"Sure, let’s go," she smiled.



The food was below mediocre, but she didn’t regret coming here.

It was the beginning of a wonderful love story.

S2/02. Bad Blood

2.9 Rosa De la Cruz

Spring 1998, De la Cruz residence, Oasis Springs

They threw a divorce party for Rosa.

Everyone was here in her yard; even Diana came from San Myshuno, dropped her daughter at Luca's nanny and got herself mindlessly hammered and high. The only one missing was Frank, he said he was busy with work. That was so like him. Or maybe he was busy shagging that weirdo, that'd be also so like him.

They said Rosa should celebrate, be glad she got finally rid of that cheating, lying, poor excuse of a husband. 
Ha!
What a bad joke. Should she celebrate her failure?
Rosa felt more like crying. Or alternatively, putting something on fire, or murdering someone – how about that red-headed, man-stealing tramp? The world would probably be a better place without her anyway.

Just yesterday Rosa'd received a letter – from Francesco’s lawyer.
A divorce application, together with an invitation to settle the details like housing and child custody out of court.
That wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Fine – their last argument was probably the worst so far, but all couples had disagreements, right?
Rosa and Francesco had always made up after. Even though he'd never told her what she needed to know, he'd always tried to soothe her and sweet talk his way out. That he loved her, and only her, and that he'd make up for all the time he spent in the studio and on the road. And though it'd never been more than empty promises, the effort he put into calming her down convinced her that he did love her, one way or another.
That, and that he'd still wanted her.
Sex reassured her of his love, but the more time passed, the less she believed it. How could she, when it was so obvious that he'd slept with other women too?

It didn't mean anything then!

If he could only tell her the truth instead of evading all her questions... she loved him so much, she'd forgive him anything. The long work hours, long separations – even the cheating she'd forgive, and then they could be together again.

Sure, Eva had warned her that if she'd refuse her husband for too long, he'd just leave her – but Rosa just couldn't, good god! She wasn't one to whore herself out!

Eventually it turned out Rosa's best friend had been right.

Their last fight – just after Eva's wedding – had been different.

Instead of trying to make up like usually, Francesco'd left.
He'd been gone the whole night, and when he'd returned the next morning, he'd smiled.
Of course, he must've been with Mae! They'd talked at the wedding, everyone saw them.
And that bitch also hadn't returned all night, send everyone into panic mode when she disappeared. Had they planned their hook up right under Rosa's nose?

The audacity!
Rosa'd shaken from rage.

But also, for the first time fear slung its ice-cold claws around her heart. She'd never felt that Francesco'd been truly hers, but now he'd literally slipped between her fingers.
If she didn't do something, she might lose him for good – worst of all, to that plain frump?!
Not even over her dead, cold body.

Quickly, she’d changed her attitude and pulled herself together, did what she had to do: be nice, be sweet, be understanding, be the perfect wife. He wouldn’t need any other woman in his life!

Ridiculous, how well it worked.
He’d been all hers again.
How easy it was to seduce a man! Her success tasted so sweet that it completely overshadowed the vapid flavor of sacrificing her dignity. If that'd be the price to pay for what she truly wanted, so be it.

But her victory was too short lived.

When she came back from the bathroom, Francesco was packing.

The panic in her crawled up again.
She'd done everything she could… had she lost already; was that bimbo so much better than her?

She'd fought so hard, begged for Francesco to stay.
All in vain.
He didn’t care about her anymore.

Rosa's mind had raced. How could she make him stay?
With Luca?
Francesco hadn't been too invested in Rosa's pregnancy, but once Luca was born, he'd become quickly infatuated with his son.

Worth a shot.

Except she'd shot way beyond her goal – and her pressure pushed him away instead.

Francesco got angry and left.

Not long after, Francesco had called her. She'd tried so hard to convince him to come back home, begged, pleaded, but he'd been ice cold.

She'd lost her head again. He had to know it'd have consequences if he wouldn't return!

Instead of replying, he hung up. And still he hadn't given her anything to hold on to...

Rosa had no chance to contact him again, no address, no phone number, except for his agent's. Needless to say, that harpy never answered her mobile phone.

Rosa had to find a way talk to him! But the only chance she could think of was asking Mae for his address or phone number, who kept persisting she didn't know!

Okay, so recently Diana confirmed that Mae really didn't live with Francesco in San Myshuno. And apparently he'd played Mae too once, so Rosa should have some sympathy instead of fighting Mae. 

Hilarious!

There was the confession that proved Rosa'd been right all along. Mae and Francesco had been involved at a time!

And who said Mae didn't lie again when she'd convinced Diana she'd been done and over with Francesco? For all Rosa believed, that sly snake went after him to San Myshuno to get him back; maybe she thought it'd be easier now that he'd dumped his wife!

Not so fast!

Rosa wasn't done yet.

Sooner or later, Francesco'd have to call her again, or maybe he'd come over. He didn't want to take Luca away, but he'd said he wanted to see his son regularly, after all.

In that case, Rosa needed to be prepared.

How could she make him stay this time? She'd racked her brain for a while already, but she couldn't find any promising solutions.

Maybe if she were pregnant and could convince him it'd been from their last encounter – she'd almost gone to make sure she was pregnant –

No.

Francesco hadn't stayed for Luca, the chances he'd come back for a second baby were very slim, too slim that she'd take that risk.

But he'd have to come back to her.
He was hers, and she was ready to do everything to make sure it'd stay like that.
She'd rather see him dead than with someone else.
She was running out of ideas...

Anyway, first she'd have to prevent this stupid divorce. There were options, right? She’d probably have to get a lawyer herself, who could –

Wait.

Francesco had had his lawyer send her the divorce papers. What did he need a lawyer for? He could just apply for a divorce at the courthouse himself; according to his lawyer's letter, he didn't even want to go to court. His bandmate's wife didn't hire one when she kicked her boy toy out, and neither did Herbert and Mae.

Could it be... that he hid anything that Rosa could use to make him stay?

He'd never told her his secrets, but that didn’t mean there weren't ways for her to find out... and if he was so cautious to not have them revealed – surely, they must be severe, right? Something you could only trust your loving wife with, but not your heartbroken, devastated ex...

Could it be that Rosa'd hit a nail somewhere during their last arguments?

Let's see... it couldn't be about the domestic abuse... maybe the drugs? Obviously she didn't had any proof if he still used, and he would know that, but maybe she'd find something with a little digging. Rosa needed a lawyer, one that was very good at –

"Rosa! There you’re hiding! Here, I got you your favorite."

It was Marcus with two Mojitos in his hands.

Fine, she'd have time to look for a lawyer tomorrow. She couldn't avoid the party for too long. Keeping her friends' sympathy was at least of same importance. 

"Marcus... you always know what I need!" She flashed her most charming smile.

"It's not hard when you pay attention," he smirked. He'd always looked out for her, maybe sometimes more than was appropriate for her being married to someone else. Granted, Marcus was over the moon that Francesco was gone.

Asshole.

Maybe he thought he'd have a chance with her now, after Francesco left. Oh, that sweet, giant dumbass! As if anyone could compete with Francesco.

Rosa almost cracked up.

But Marcus'd been on her side since she could remember. He'd always been there for her when Francesco cancelled another meeting with her friends to work, and also been the last one on her side when everyone else got tired of her insisting to cut Mae off for backstabbing her. And she wouldn't fight him now. She couldn't afford to make enemies.

On the contrary, it was someone like Marcus who she needed most now, until she figured out how to get Francesco back.

"Maybe I'm cursed... I can’t seem to get hold of a guy that does," she teased.

"Maybe you shouldn't always look so far," Marcus winked, but a slight serious undertone he couldn't hide.

Her instincts always were right. He'd stay with her as long as she'd let him.

At least some people around her were still reliable.

"Come," Marcus tipped her shoulder, "it's time you finally forget that asshole who didn't even waste a breath to call after he vanished."

Ah, yes.

As far as her friends were concerned, Francesco was a deadbeat. Rosa hadn't told anyone they'd talked, there was no point in letting them know she failed to keep her man – it was embarrassing enough that he dumped her, at least let them think she didn't have a chance to convince him to reconsider... and less they needed to know that Francesco wanted to keep up with Luca. Some idiot (Frank, for example) might give him brownie points for that, maybe even hold it against Rosa! Nope, there was no need to complicate things for herself.

Once she’d get Francesco back, it wouldn't matter what her friends thought of them both anyway.

She'd learned her lesson.

She couldn't have Francesco and involve him into her life, he'd always find a way to slip away.

Instead she had to make his life hers. She'd go wherever Francesco went, on his tours, to release parties, to award shows.

He was worth it.

"You deserve so much better," Marcus put his arm around her shoulder to lead her back to the yard.

No – the best.

Rosa deserved the best, and the best was Francesco.

S2/02. Bad Blood

2.8 Frank Cage

Spring 1998, Linda's house, Windenburg

Frank tried to wiggle the rocking chair's leg. Perfect, it didn't move nor squeak. It just needed a little bit of glue, a quick fix.

Just recently he'd finished with the last folder of Dr. West's research, and while he waited for Linda to return from work, he passed the time doing her a favor. Funny, that she was so sentimental over her late grandmother's old junk. Usually she was so rational, almost as if she had no feelings at all – except for her plants and science.

But she was more emotional than she gave away, especially when it was about her family. Frank got to know her pretty well lately, and even better since he spent more time with her while studying her father's theories on anti-matter. Here, in her house, Linda insisted, because she'd promised Dr. West that she'd never let someone else have his work. She'd even offered Frank a guest room which he politely declined as he didn't want to cause her extra trouble.

Studying them here turned out to be better than taking the files home anyway. There was always a party somewhere in Bedrock Strait and people came over to his place fairly often. It was more efficient to come here early in the mornings before Linda left for the lab as he could work all day in peace.

And it's been so worth it!

Thanks to Dr. West's discoveries, Frank could easily develop a new drive system for a spaceship based on anti-matter. Once the math was done, the engineering would be a joke. The power outcome should be gigantic – and it could be used for much more than just fuel! Too bad he had to promise Linda not to use the research to develop military equipment. With the dangers that awaited him and the team on Sixam, they could really use a gear upgrade. Just in case, he took notes of every tiny detail, no matter how unimportant it seemed at first glance. He didn't want to rely on a safer and faster ship alone when it was to protect the crew's lives. In a pinch he might put together something on the spot.

Whatever, he'd be forever grateful to Linda and Dr. West – and not to forget, Delilah.

If Frank's sister-in-law hadn't come over a while ago and yelled at him how he'd dare to hurt Linda with his "hypocritical, archaic principles" – of course she'd gotten it all wrong – he'd never guessed that Linda took his disappointment about her having had an affair so seriously that she believed their friendship to be over.

He himself hadn't thought much about it, it'd bugged him a day or two and then he'd almost forgotten about it, the more under the pressure to improve the spaceship before the departure.

By the time he'd be free to talk to her again, she might not want to talk at all.

Delilah might've saved his relationship with Linda, and definitely the next expedition to Sixam. It'd just be great if she'd stopped there and not keep pestering him to finally ask Linda out. Generally he didn't hate the idea, only Delilah trying to push him there.

It wasn't that he'd never thought about it himself, but he couldn't make up his mind if he wanted to or not. Linda was smart, pretty and fun to talk to. And he'd always been fascinated by her, sometimes she was almost like a strange, alien life form from another universe.

He did like her.

But she was also kind of distant, formal, and always closed up about herself, even though they'd known each other for quite a while now. And what he'd seen of her relationship with her former boyfriend he definitely didn't want for himself.

Though it couldn't be all that was about her, could it?

Either way, he had no idea what Linda wanted. They'd spent a lot more time together recently, but he still couldn't tell if she'd like to go out with him or not, so he just never pushed on it.

Just when he finished with the chair, keys turned in the door. 

"Good evening!"

Linda was a little later than usual.

"Hi. Your chair's fixed," he greeted her.

"Really? That's wonderful, thank you!"

She beamed so brightly; Frank almost asked if she hadn't more squeaky furniture to glue. Instead, he pointed at the box she carried.

"What's that?" 

"Oh – today is your birthday, isn't it? A birthday needs a cake," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm not very good at baking, I hope you don't mind one from the store."

Between all the work, Frank'd literally forgotten his own birthday. Today the guys would've certainly surprised him with the obligatory party when he'd be back home.

Though, Linda definitely topped that with her cake. Sometimes she surprised him with how attentive she was, despite often appearing as if she lived on another planet.

"I don't," he smiled and kept holding the door open for the pizza delivery that'd just arrived.

Every day he got dinner in return for Linda leaving the house and unlimited coffee supply to him. With pizza and beer, they watched reruns of Star Toads, their favorite childhood show, before he'd go back home.

Frank, who'd watched it many times with Leroy and Diana when they were kids, knew almost all episodes by heart. He often ended up watching Linda instead. 

She knew it too, but she'd missed a lot and had forgotten more. It was fun to see her watch some episodes for the first time. She laughed at all the silly puns and dumb slapstick jokes while she picked off the tiniest chunks of char from her pizza slice, and she wiped her hands meticulously every time she finished one.

Day after day, she'd loosen up a little and dropped some of her stifling formality that made her so unapproachable. Maybe she just needed more time to warm up to people than others.

Well, a lot more.

She wasn't shy laughing, though, and the longer the episode went on, the more she laughed.

Here she was maybe her most genuine self. She laughed so heartily she almost dropped her cake plate when she fell on the backrest. It was so contagious, Frank had to laugh too.

Until a soft bump against his left shoulder startled him, which became a light weight resting on it.

Linda had caught herself again, but she was still so immersed watching with her eyes glued to the screen, that she didn't notice her new position.

She looked so comfortable.

Maybe it wouldn't be bad if she'd get used to this. Frank at least didn't mind.

He smiled and gently wrapped his arm around her.

Immediately, she shot up.

"Oh! – I didn't mean to –"

Frank chuckled, just pulled her closer, and continued to watch the TV.

Linda shifted a bit in her place but eventually relaxed again. Slowly, carefully, she leaned her head back, but not before she took a deep breath; he could hear her inhale sharply. As if she was afraid to do something wrong.

His smile grew wider.

She was so shy, it was kind of funny.

She'd calm down eventually, they weren't school kids anymore.

Or not.

Eventually she started moving around again, and he could feel her eyes resting on him.

On her face was a huge question mark. 

What was there to explain?

He answered her silent question by letting his hand wander up her neck, and stroke through her hair. Soft, silky, and thick. Her bun was almost dissolved.

He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes.

Just before their lips touched, he froze.

What the hell was he thinking?

This was Linda, for god's sake, not just a random hook up!

He had to be careful with her, the last thing he wanted was to hurt her – way to go, going along with the heat of a moment!

If there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he wasn't exactly the relationship type of guy – on the contrary.
The last time he called someone "girlfriend", was in college; almost ten years ago, and it ended anything but well. 

Rosa's jealousy was a pain in the ass, though Frank wouldn't have won a trophy for best boyfriend either. 

He had so many other, more important things on his mind. His classes, paid by the military, his part-time job, and of course his family; Leroy and Diana always came first. And Diana in particular had a rough time after he left San Myshuno, which Rosa couldn't understand. 

The relationship had been a disaster.

Both were better off without each other; and strangely relieved when it finally ended.

But now times were different. 

Both of Frank's siblings did so great.

Leroy had his own little family and a safe job at a catering company, and Diana too, stood on her own feet – instead of letting some asshole "boyfriend" keep and abuse her in one way or another.

His siblings didn't need him anymore.

It was kind of bittersweet, but Frank wouldn't have it another way.

Now he had all the time in the world for a relationship.

He just – didn't have one.

Not for lack of chances, and maybe the women he saw weren't even bad choices. But somehow he'd always avoided knowing them well enough to find out.

Guess he just wasn't made for it, even though he was a family man through and through.

Not only his siblings but also his niece Lana was his world; he'd been there since she was born and he couldn't imagine loving his own kids more than her.

Maybe he should try and find out?

Maybe it was time to give real, serious dating a chance again, instead of finding excuses for why he shouldn't ask Linda out. He certainly liked her well enough – but because of that, he also had to be one hundred –  no, one thousand percent sure that it could work between them.

He needed more time to think.

"I have to go to the lab."

Wait – what did he just say?

He never lied!

"At this hour?" Linda was surprised, and rightfully so as he'd just killed the mood.

"Yeah, I need to start building the prototype before I'll leave... I don't have much time left."

Okay, it wasn't exactly a lie, but it was such a lame excuse –

"I see."

She held her composure well.

It tasted bitter.

Couldn't he just be honest?

If she was the right one, he shouldn't be afraid to tell her the truth: that he just wanted to take it a little slower. No big deal, right?

"Let's have dinner together again soon," he said.

It was a genuine invitation, but under these circumstances it felt more like the half-assed attempt to soothe a very awkward rejection.

Of course she felt it too.

"I would like that," she he mustered up a small smile, very politely, as she always was.

Closed up.

"Good night, Linda."

"Good night, Frank."

S2/02. Bad Blood

2.5 Francesco De la Cruz
Spring 1998, Mountaver Records studio, San Myshuno

"I can't stand it," Francesco said.

Nico slammed down his head phones.

"How many more times do you want to record it?"

It was kind of an achievement, to get him to lose his temper.

"No more," Francesco said.

"Then what do you want?"

"It doesn't matter how often I replay it. It sounds... different."

"Different to?"

Francesco rolled his eyes.
"Different to Rick, of course. I can't play it like him and neither can Al."

Rick'd been their steady tour support on the bass since he could think, but when Deep Rift switched labels they'd left him and other people behind in Oasis Springs too. The problem wasn't that Francesco or Alejandro weren't capable to play the bass part – it was probably the easiest instrument in existence; it was that playing an instrument always had a personal note which was impossible to copy.

"Get over it," barked Alejandro. "That nitpickery of yours is getting on my nerves."

"This isn't gonna work long term," Francesco went on. "We need steady members. Not supports that come and go as they like."

"Not this shit again..." Nico groaned.

Alejandro snorted.

"You seriously wanna throw away a part of our revenue because of your obsessive perfectionism, don't ya."

"Don't pretend you don't hear it," Francesco snapped. He knew it wasn't only him. They all had to notice it, but apparently the other two were much too comfortable half-assing their songs.

"Listen, all those that made it big are fully lined up. No supports. Not where it matters."

Before he'd punch a hole in the wall, he picked up the bass again and replayed the problematic sequence. Try and get used to the different flavor, as it was unlikely they'd get Rick back.

"He's never gonna shut up, Al... The fuck we gon' do? The record won't be finished for ever."

"Such a pain in the ass..." Alejandro groaned. But something in his tone suggested that Francesco finally might've come through. Money or not, the guitarist had his pride as an artist too.

"Sorry to disturb you boys," Joanne entered and didn't sound sorry at all, "but your cab's waiting, Franco. And Al, your ex asks for a call back."

The next band was already right behind Deep Rift's manager.
"And your time's up for more than half an hour!" Lyta barked. "Fuck off!"

Francesco couldn't care less about Toxic Purple's vocalist. It was the blonde bass player that drew all his attention. On his way out he couldn't resist touching Drake's hand and play with those fingers that were skilled in more than just bass playing.

"Tonight," he whispered and he couldn't wait for it. Drake shot him a conspiratorial smirk.
Francesco would've tried and talk him into joining Deep Rift just so he could spend more time with him already, if Alejandro wouldn't insist on keeping private matters out of business.
Admitted, it'd probably be rather distracting than productive to have Drake around when working.

Ms. Soledad Blum received Francesco in person. Joanne had picked Blum & Blum for having a good reputation with complicated cases in domestic relations and Francesco hoped the lawyer could help him. She looked very professional, at least.

"What can I do for you, Mr. De la Cruz?"

"I wanna divorce my wife. She's nuts."

"I suppose you don't have an agreement."

"Not at all. She doesn't want to divorce." He wasn't as lucky as Alejandro who settled everything with a few signatures at the registry office.

"Are you in a hurry?" Ms. Blum asked.

"What? Why?"

"Divorce applications generally are granted automatically two years after the formal application has been issued, with or without the consent of the objecting party if the applicant doesn't change their mind meanwhile. If you cannot wait that long, we will have to persuade a judge that we have a case of severe circumstances; let's say, domestic violence or major adultery. Then the divorce can be granted with immediate effect, but of course this must be proven. Either way, first we have to send an official divorce application to the other party –"

"No, we can't do that."

"Excuse me?"

"Like I said, my wife's nuts. She's kinda... tied my hands."

"Explain."

"Well, I've tried to talk to her after we broke up, settling the divorce and stuff."

He'd returned home the next morning after he'd left. Rosa looked like crap, she'd probably not slept all night, but she was so... happy when she saw him. Francesco had expected another shit show, but they actually had a normal conversation for once. She was so excited to see him, it was kinda sweet. Especially after she'd kept him at arm's length for so long.
Maybe she'd finally got off her trip.

"She tried to persuade me to go back to her instead, but I've taken too much from her already to fall for her bullshit."

He'd caved in.
Damn.

He knew well enough that he was better off without her. Fuck, the last few months he hadn't even missed her while on tour; he was just glad he didn't have to deal with her fits for as little as going to get cigarettes. He didn't even like her anymore, god knows why he had tried to fix their relationship for so long.

He'd got dressed and looked for a few things he'd need in his new place right now, while racking his brain how he could explain best that this hadn't been reconciliation.

"Where you going?" Rosa's voice'd been shaky. "You're not going back to that whore, are you?"
And here he'd learned that she hadn't come to her senses.

 

 

"You're kidding, right?" He'd really pulled himself together to not yell and wake up Luca. "Mae's married for god's sake" – hopefully happier than he – "I thought you've seen her with that douche face."

For a brief moment she'd got quiet and it seemed that it finally clicked.

"You're both cheaters," she'd hissed.

He'd been wrong again.
Whatever, they were done and he couldn't care less what she believed about him.

Rosa wasn't done, though.
"But I forgive you," she'd purred and put her arms around him. "I'm so happy you're back."

She'd still completely disregarded what he'd said or wanted. It'd just fueled his anger. He'd peeled her arms off him with more force than necessary and went back to his closet.

"I'll sell the house," he'd said, "you might pack as well."

He'd never liked this huge monstrosity in the first place, its only advantage was that it was close to his band mates' and the studio.

Though... he couldn't just throw Rosa on the street. No matter how crazy she was about him, she was still his son's mother.
"I can ask Jo to look for a new place for you and Luca. Maybe closer to your friends –"

"You can't leave me!" Rosa'd been in pieces, bawling. "I need you... and Luca needs you!"

Yeah – he hated that he'd have to leave his son behind. But Rosa would likely step up with her obsession if he'd stay and there was no way he could take it anymore. But what could he do? For Luca it'd be better to be with his mother, he was still just a baby.

"I'll come over to see him and when he's old enough he can visit me," he'd said. "We'll find a way." Francesco'd really hoped that she could be at least reasonable if it was about their kid.

"You can only see him if you come back to me," she'd hissed.

Nevermind. She'd gone completely mad, and he'd been naive to think she'd have one sane brain cell left. Getting an agreement about Luca would be such a pain in the ass.

"You can't keep me from seeing him," he'd said. The whole argument had become so ridiculous he couldn't even be angry anymore. "He's my son too, and you're in my house. If I wanted, I could just get him now and –"

He'd have to stop talking and watch Rosa suddenly run out of the bedroom. He'd heard a key turn. Then she'd come back, breathing hastily.

"When she noticed that her sweet talk won't work, she started to threaten me. That bitch's completely mad, I've never seen her like that."

"If you want to see him, you'll have to get the key from me or break the door," she'd said, her face a mask of stone.

"Did you totally snap now or what?"

"Come, try and get it from me! Then I'll sue you for domestic violence."

"Bullshit and you know it." Francesco'd to laugh. "I don't have to use violence to get him. You have no right to keep my son from me."

"But I can! If you file for divorce or anything else, then I'll sue you for domestic violence. No one can prove it didn't happen! I'll report you for drug abuse. You have a history with drugs already, don't you? Heroin was it, right? You'll have so many lawsuits and I'll make them go on forever... they'll ruin your career and they'll prevent you from seeing Luca. Ha! He won't even want to know about your existence by the time you may finally get out of this mess!

"That's unfortunate," Ms. Blum said, quite unimpressed. "Is there any evidence, if only circumstantial, that could support her claims? Witnesses?"

Francesco snorted. "No way! I was barely at home. My band mates – hell, even the roadies saw me more often than her in the past year."

"Then I doubt you'll have much to fear for. Or is it your son you're worried about? Do you think she'd hurt him if you take legal actions against her?" For the first time during their conversation, Ms. Blum looked very concerned.

Francesco thought a bit. "No... no, I don't think so. She's nuts but she loves the kid. She's not a bad mom."

Neither her baseless threats against him were what he worried about. But if she was about to dig out his past in Paris, there were a few things that very well might become a problem. 

"How likely is it that old... encounters with the police might show up? From another country?"

"Which kind of encounters?"

Francesco hesitated. He didn't forget that thug warning him to never speak of what happened. But on the other hand, there'd been an official investigation so most of it was more or less publicly accessible.

 

"Mr. De la Cruz, if I am to help you I'll need to be able to face all eventualities," Ms. Blum insisted. "Have you been convicted of anything?"

"No, not convicted. The charges were dropped."

"Which kind of charges?"

"Murder."

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Author's note:

Yes, we're having again some lovely sim donations 🖤🖤🖤 Franny's (hopefully) competent lawyer Ms Soledad Blum (left) was donated by Froot and Toxic Purple (right, also Mariella's favorite band atm) was lent to me by Maladi.

You can read Froot's story here, and Maladi's story here!
Thank you very much 🖤