❝ no thoughts or prayers ❞

Ezra Constello, thrity-two, underboss ❝ Smile for the camera, another politician bought, I swear I heard another shot, cash another payment, bled all on the canvas, there's murder on the campus. ❞

[ofcostello]

A man of mystery. Thalia could agree on that. Sure, she knew the public version of Ezra from the press. She knew that the man in front of her enjoyed his parties, his work, his ladies. But at the same time, there was more to him, she had figured that out during the conversations she had had so far with him. He wasn’t just the cover story you saw in the press. It had her curious but at the same time, it made her want to keep her distance as well. When he got up from the chair, she had to look up. Never had she realizes how tall he was. The previous times when they had met, she had been wearing heels.

“Jetlag? So you missed all the fun we had here?” She asked him, her voice slightly sarcastic. Luckily for him, he had been out of town and he had missed the shooting. The small cuts on her arms from splintering glass had started to heal by now, but she was lucky that was all the damage to her physically. Mentally it was a different story as sometimes when she woke up she could still hear the shots ringing in her ears. The dreams faded slowly, so that was progress.

Thalia shook her head as part of the answer to his question. “No, I actually live a few streets away. It’s on my way home from the hospital and ever since I’ve discovered this place, I come back here. Greasy or not, the burgers are good and the owner is a sweetheart.”

Her eyes quickly moved to the people behind the counter. They still seemed busy with both their orders so she still had time to ask something else. Her gaze locked back on Ezra again, a smile playing on her lips. “What have you been doing in Dubai?”

“Yeah,” Ezra said absent-mindedly, “lucky me,” he muttered - his mind flashing to Luca and the guilt of not being there when it happened. Of course, it wasn’t his fault - but still couldn’t shake the guilt; his siblings had needed him and he wasn’t there. He let the feeling wash over him for a moment, before shaking it off as if it was sand. Ezra wasn’t particularly forthcoming when it came to his emotions, don’t get him wrong he wasn’t Leon level of emotionally stunted, but he liked to think he came in at a closed second. Not that it was something to brag about. 

He nodded, “work mostly,” he said pulling himself out of thoughts. “It’s a great place for a short vacation, but the manufactured feel gets old after a while. Everything is so fake, at least for me, I prefer being surrounded by nature... Also the heat, we’re just not used to that sort of weather, but I enjoyed myself... apart from the end,” he said trailing off. Trips to see clients were a blast some of the time, although Ezra enjoyed them more in his youth - his not twenty anymore - drinking all night had an effected on him. 

“So don’t live too far from each other,” he replied, a smile cropping onto his face. “You have great taste this district is one of my favourites,” although he assumed that was obvious since he’d moved there - although that had been more about getting out from under his father’s thumb than anything else. 

Ezra licked his lips, “long shift?” He inquired. He was fascinated by her willingness to help strangers. He would help his family, he would help people he cared about, but helping someone he didn’t know from adam? Someone who could potentially put his own life at risk? He liked to think he would - but he wasn’t up his own arse enough to fully believe he would. It took a special sort of person to be that selfless and Ezra knew that wasn’t him.

[ofcostello]

Over the past year, Thalia had thrown herself into more and more into her work. Picking up extra shifts whenever they fitted in her schedule. It showed the people of the hospital that she was dedicated and she was going to need that if she wanted to prove them if she was the right person for them, even after she would be done with her residency. Working more also meant that she did not have to think that she was going home to an empty apartment. An apartment where she was still working on the financial papers, to make sure that everything was properly arranged and every time she realized again and again that the saved money she thought they had was not there. Another reason to work more; more money to pay the monthly fees and the debt quicker.

The woman had called over to the restaurant so she could come by on her way home to pick up some dinner. You knew you came there too often when the people on the other side of the line already asked her if she wanted to order the usual. She had confirmed that around fifteen minutes earlier as she parked her car around the corner. Thalia made her way over to the restaurant and opened the door. Her gaze moved to the older man behind the counter and she held up her hand as a greeting towards the owner. He recognized her by now and greeted her back. A kind man, she had learned that over the past time.

Thalia walked further into the establishment so she would get out of the way for new people entering the restaurant. She did not expect a voice to start talking. It was one that she recognized and he was talking to her. The woman looked up to see Ezra Costello seated there on one of the ugly plastic stools that perfectly fit within the establishment. Well, that was a pleasant surprise.

“I am going this to call this a coincidence more than the right place, right time,” she let him know, putting her hands in her back pockets as she took the man in. The previous times that Thalia had seen him, he had been clothed in fancier clothing. They had been events or during working hours, so that was not that weird. But to see him sitting here in joggers and a sweatshirt was quite the difference from what she was used to. The image that she had from Ezra Costello did not belong to the establishment they were located in right now.

“Yes, from time to time we just need greasy burgers. I have to admit, however, that I did not expect to find you here.”

Ezra let out a soft laugh. According to the press, a Costello wouldn’t be caught dead at an establishment like this - but the truth is, that was all talk. He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the finer things in life; he enjoyed the food, the clothes, the alcohol. But Ezra was a simple man at heart, he liked eating greasy food with his hands and dressing down. He liked feeling like a normal person and not a Costello. Don’t get him wrong, he wouldn’t trade his status or his family for anything - but it came with a lot of pressure. If he didn’t shed his Costello skin every once in a while he’d have gone mad. 

He licked his lips. “What can I say, I’m a man of mystery,” he replied, standing up from the stool, his back thanking him. “My apartment’s just up the road, I come here when I don’t want any fuss,” he explained, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Also jet lag,” he added. He had found over the years that a good greasy burger was the remedy for two things, a hangover, and jet lag. “I just got back from Dubai and the time difference has been has me out of sync.” Obviously, Ezra is aware that Thalia was made up part of the Sinclair factions - there wasn’t a person in this town that sided with his new in-laws (never going to get used to that one) that Ezra didn’t know about. 

But she didn’t seem like the sort of person who was with the Sinclair’s out of want. However, Ezra couldn’t be sure. All he really knew about the women was that she was a doctor, so she clearly cared about helping people and that she had been widowed, her husband had apparently died. Although the reason for his untimely death was a mystery to him. It was the nature of how public the Costello’s were, that often people knew more about them than they knew about other people - unless they purposely went digging. 

“What about you, do you live around here?” he asked, wondering if they were neighbours - another coincidence to add to his list. 

[ofcostello]

Down the grapevine word traveled of little Thumbelina finding her way back home. A sigh, whether it be of relief, disdain or both, left her lips when she had heard what should be the joyous news. Mia did not feel like celebrating the return of a woman who had vanished like a magician’s assistant to only reappear months later with all the flourish of someone trained for the stage. That detail of how she appeared had not gone unnoticed by her. At least now Luca would no longer be drowning in his pool of misery and disappear. Despite Sinclair’s faults (the glaring one being that she is a Sinclair) she somehow made her brother happy. God knows how that happened but it did.

Between that news, the shooting at Hyde Park where she could not locate her brothers, a long night spent editing a week’s work of footage (to keep her hands busy instead of taking out her frustration on something or someone) and Luca getting shot she needed caffeine injected into her veins. A rather bad way to phrase such a thing given her past troubles but she never did like needles and thus she saw no harm in her statement. Everyone everywhere said it but it was deemed unsavory when said by a member of the you fucked up your life so bad you had to get sober community. Peaches and cream that bunch. They made the Stepford Housewives seem appealing.

Dark, cat eye frames that enhanced her sharp features were removed as she spotted her brother in the annoyingly long line. This would not do. Her heels clicked and clacked against the coffee shop’s floor as she walked right up to one of the other employees working and placed her order and one for Ezra that she had heard him order many times before. To make up for the major inconvenience, the drinks would be brought to them personally rather than having to wait for it. And people said that the adult film industry would never give her useful connections.  Crimson lips pursed together as turned on her heel and walked up to her brother. “Thanks for the phone call.” Dry sarcasm oozed from her lips. “Between you, Luca and Leon I will go grey faster than Papà and he is in his eighties.”

Never one to ask, Mia looped her arm with his’ and pulled him out of the ridiculous line. “Before you get your knickers in a twist, our order has been placed and it will be hand delivered momentarily. Until then-” A red lacquered nail is pointed at him. “-you will tell me that you will never ever make the mistake of not answering your phone when I text or call you. I had to talk Babbo out of wringing the shooter’s neck himself.”

Ezra smiled fondly at his sister, the frustration he had been feeling just moments ago ebbing away - who was the older siblings? He didn’t know if he should be alarmed that his sister could read him like an open book or whether to feel comforted. He didn’t let his mind linger on that thought. He’d always had a hard time letting others look after him, perceiving it as weakness, but he was attempting to work out his deep-seated issues as of late.

He licked his lips. “You know me too well Mi,” he said, as he let himself be pulled out of the line, anything to distract him from the barista who was clearly out of her depth. It was like a car crash, he couldn’t look away. He sighed at his sister's words. In reality, he should have known the second reception went out on his phone that catastrophe would strike. It appeared to always work out that way. He used the tip of his fingers to knead at his stiff neck. “Like I said, I was in the middle of the Dubai desert, they aren’t well known for having great cell reception,” he bit but instantly regretted it. The jet lag had made him grumpier than usual. 

“I am sorry,” he said sincerely. Their brother had been shot after all, and he can only imagine how terrifying that must have been. By the time Ezra had caught wind of what happened, there were already a dozen messages on his phone telling him that his little brother would live - and he had still been scared beyond his wits. Something happening to the twins, to any of them was his worst fear, and he knew he wasn’t the only one of his siblings that felt that way. He laid a hand to his sister's shoulder. “I’ll never be somewhere there isn’t reception again,” he promised. 

“Have you seen him?” Ezra asked, referring to Luca. He doesn’t know if he could handle facing his little brother in a hospital bed. “I was going to visit him after this....” he said, his voice trailing off into a whisper.

[ofcostello]

It was late when Ezra had finally made it out of his apartment, the sun had already set. The street lights illuminated his path down the street, towards the hole in the wall take-out place that he knew was always open no matter the time. He was dressed down, in a black pair of joggers, and a loose-fitting sweatshirt with trainers. He wouldn’t say he hated dressing up - but that included effort - and in his jet-lagged state even just leaving the house felt like too much. 

Dubai was nine hours ahead, so he should be dead asleep by now, but Ezra was willing himself awake, to try and get back into his own time zone. He rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers as he walked down the sidewalk. There was a light rain, but now enough that he needed an umbrella, and even though it was spring it still felt like autumn, the night air still had a bitter chill to it. He missed the heat of the middle eastern city - if it wasn’t for his family - he’d be tempted move to a hotter climate, somewhere like L.A. Where it was summer all year long. 

Up ahead the aluminated sign signalled he’d arrived at his destinations - there was a small crowd gathered inside, but nothing too chaotic. Even in his sleep-deprived state, he’d had the sense to call ahead. He entered the establishment, letting out a content sigh, as the heat enveloped him. He gave the ageing man behind the counter a smile, both of them acknowledging the other’s presences. Ezra went over to sit on one of the plastic stools reserved for customers waiting to pick up orders. 

The door dinged than, signalling another customer had entered the place. Curiously Ezra whipped his head up from where he’d been examining the floor, almost dozing off. The face was familiar; so that a small smile crept on his lips. Thalia Montoya - they’d meet a handful of time, like parties, also crossing paths during dinners and things similar in nature. It was always on accident, and only ever briefly. They’d had multiple conversations but they were always of the fleeting kind. Still despite her affiliation, Ezra was still pleasantly surprised. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he addressed her, “right place right time hmm?” Well, there were worse people Ezra could run into. “In the mood for a greasy burger too uh?” @thaliamcntoya​

[ofcostello]

The rubber sole of Ezra’s loafer clicks against the titled floor of the coffee shop as he waits in line impatiently. Things had been going alright - well even - they’d finally been recovering from the events of Paiytn kidnapping - perhaps recovering was a strong word. But at the very least things had began to quieten down and settle into some version of normalcy. At least the Costello version od normalcy that is. 

Then Ezra had gone away and business - and all hell had gone to shit while he was gone - nothing like coming back from lunch in the desert to half a dozen messages that his brother had been shot. No one could ever say their life was boring that was for sure. Of course, Ezra had booked the first flight home - leading him to be standing in a stuffy over the crowded coffee shop - waiting in an obviously long line. If he was going to visit his brother and keep it together - he needed caffeine first. 

“Jesus Christ,” Ezra muttered under his breath. It wasn’t that he blamed the clearly ill-experienced barista behind the counter, but he’d been standing there for at least twenty minutes. He taps his heel against the tile again. A nervous tick. He looked down at his watch, eying the still atrociously long line. “This is going to take forever.” @parabellum-starters​

[ofcostello]

A big smile spread on her face as she heard he’d go with her. In moments like these, she knew her family would do anything for her. Sofia knew her brothers were busy people, and him spending time with her when in fact he probably had meetings meant a lot to her.  She followed him towards the shop, walking in a pace that would be similar to his own. “We haven’t done this since Luca and I were ten,” Sofia told Ezra, most likely the last time she and Ezra were having actual quality time, was when both of them were young. Their age difference caused a distance between them, that’s also one of the reasons why she and Luca were probably so close. Because everyone kinda ‘parented’ them, they weren’t little siblings, but they were the family’s babies. “I don’t think I even know what is your favorite gelato flavour.”

Ezra smiled softly; recalling taking Luca and Sofia out for gelato when they were smaller; everything seemed so simpler back in those days - now it just seems like they were going from one catastrophe to another. “Yeah I remember those days,” he said fondly, throwing his arm around his younger sister. “I recall; you spilling ice cream all over yourself and the table,” he said with a laugh. He remembered laughing back then too - even has people at the table over had silently judged. Kids would be kids at the end of the day; there was no point in getting stressed at such ridiculous antics. “My favourite flavour?” he mused. “Well I don’t think I have one - I’m a neapolitan kinda guy, best of all worlds.”

[ofcostello]

Late again or just eternally late. Though he continually possessed a series of excuses that were unquestionable and had never been taunted for them. Perhaps because it appeared most knew better, though his brother was not most. Thus he’d attempted to be on schedule, every intention in line, and yet somehow had still failed. Ironic how that worked, with his thoughts a musing of unkept time. And so he slammed the town car door behind him as he made his way into the building. Annoyingly conscious of the paparazzi and their flashing bulbs marking his every step into the building. 

“Fix that.” He barked towards the hostess stand, their startled lovely features nodding eagerly in response to the man. Of course, they recognized him and knew better than to question his appeal, already moving forward towards the window and pulling the shades, in an attempt to honor his request. “My table?” Not his brother’s and their theirs, just merely his as he followed their gazes towards the one in the far back, both intimate and secure. Ezra must’ve requested it, and a shimmer of regard and appreciation for his younger brother swelled his chest. They may be contrasting in both position and character, but it seemed they both understood the rank of secrecy in their very public lives. Which was something one could not acquire Leon felt, but could only be born with acknowledging his younger siblings did not all harbor it. 

“I’m late.” He announced, sliding into the seat across from Ezra. They both knew it, and Leon made no act of hiding it. “What are you drinking?” Dark hues glanced over his brother’s newly filled glass, as he reached forward, digits accruing a cigarette he gladly picked up. A nasty practice, but one that had grown even more constantly since Violet had moved out. “Whatever it is, get a second bottle.” Lighting the cancer stick, he encouraged it to hang loosely from his lips, the smoke spiraling towards the ceiling in cloudy wisps. “I’m sure you’ve seen Paityn around, Luca’s over the moon.” And yet they still had no answers. “What are your thoughts on that?” It wasn’t usually that Leon asked for another’s judgments, preferring instead to center on his own. But this time was different, and he valued his younger brother’s verdicts–as long as they weren’t too far off from his own.  

Ezra wasn’t surprised, or taken aback by his brother’s rather blunt ( a nice way of putting it ) attitude; he had grown used to his brother’s brass; often crude temperament. So when Leon ignored his comments; instead choosing to go straight into the meat of their conversation - their sister-in-law’s return; all he did was let out a subtle sigh. So it was going to be one of those lunches; where Ezra felt he couldn’t quite relax; and his chair didn’t quite feel right, despite it having felt perfectly fine only moments ago. He copies his brother’s motion, grabbing the packet of cigarettes disagreed on the table and placing the stick between his mouth. He lights the tip and almost hums from satisfaction as the smoke travels down his lungs.  

Thank god for old fashion joints like this; who gave recent health codes a big fuck you and continued to let their customers discreetly smoke on the premise - he would not have been able to get through this lunch otherwise. He licked his lips, tasting the tobacco residue. “Our brother seems happy to have his wife back safe and sound,” he started carefully; keeping his eyes firmly on his brother. This was where he had to pick his words with care; more than aware his brother was only asking his opinion because he wanted him to agree. Ezra wasn’t afraid of voicing his opinion, even if it differed from his older brothers; when he felt it was worth it - he knew how to pick his battles. Ezra left out his own feelings for the girl, they were irrelevant; whether he liked her or not, whether he wanted her married to his mother or not - none of that matter, he wasn’t in the habit of making other peoples choices for them. 

He tapped the side of his chin. “I think the sooner we find out who really kidnapped her - the better. We’re all losing too much focus on the Sinclair’s and this war; we have empires to sustain.” he decided to say. Was there a part of Ezra who had doubted Leon ( of course ). Loyalty was often misconstrued with naivety. Those were two very different things; loyalty didn’t mean he had to ignore the bad things - it just meant he was willing to push past them, and support his brother; support his family regardless; Ezra was no fool. He wouldn’t lie; there was still a part of him that wondered; but until Leon gave him a reason to suspect it was true, that the feeling was any more than just that; a ‘feeling’ he was wouldn’t approach the topic with his brother. “More importantly,” he said, leaning forward. “What do you think about the situation?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “And of the Aleman brothers?”

[ofcostello]

“How cruel of an older brother you are.” She remarked without meaning any of it. This was hypothetical while she had done worse to all of her brothers throughout their many years together. Poor Luca, the baby of the family, got the most from all of them. Family was always first but sometimes family got on her nerves and she retaliated against what grievance they had caused her. 

The thought of no cell service was enough to keep her feet firmly planted in Chicago while her brother galavanted off into the wilderness. To be cut off from everyone and anyone and have it not be her choice was not something she’d ever sign up for. “We wouldn’t last a week.” A statement backed by just how glued all the siblings were to their phones whether it was for work or pleasure. None of them could live without a bar of signal. 

A new and untold purchased piqued her interest. “You,” she pointed her index finger at him, “have a new addition to your collection and you did not tell me?” Her hand now was dramatically placed on her heart as if she had been wounded, which she was in her own way.  “It hurts me that you have not shared what I only hope is a beauty with me yet.” Mia had a love for cars, especially vintage, that not many knew. In her own collection she had a 1966 Shelby 427 Cobra, a 1962 Jaguar E-Type and of course a 1957 Ford Thunderbird in cherry red. A few others vehicles may or may not be in her collection and all but two were older than her. 

The Aleman brothers were still an enigma but they had gotten her attention. Two dashing, suave men enter Chicago with a fanfare and establish themselves as bleeding hearts right off the bat without too much information out there on. They are someone to watch closely and Mia did not mind the view one bit. “I have yet to have the pleasure of formally meeting them.” It had been a long time since a shiny new family waltzed into town. Just like any new thing the press and the public would lose interest once their sparkle and shine fades. How long could these brothers keep up with the family that had deep roots, even deeper pockets and a populace that sung their praises. 

“They have caught my eye and that is hard to do. What are your thoughts on them? I feel you will have more of a legit reason to mingle with them than I ever will.” 

Ezra grinned; finding his sister’s interest entertaining - “If it means that much to you; you’re more than welcome to come over and take it for a spin tomorrow,” he offered. He’d taken the car for one or two proper spins but other than that it had sat in his garage - more bought of boredom and privilege than anything else. Groaning; he used the palm of his had to rub the tiredness from his eyes; god he was getting old. “You’re brother’s turning into one of those old guys who can’t stay up all night twice in a row,” he joked.

He was - joking - however; a part of it was true. Ezra wasn’t old by any means, but he was aware that he wasn’t able to do half the things he could in his twenties, and he was fine with that because age had brought with it other things - he was more mature ( of course he still had his moments ) like everyone else. But he found himself lashing out less; taking fewer risks - found that his head was less in chaos; he knows a lot of that had to do with age; his brain had developed and learnt how to cope. Maybe in not the most healthy way; but still better than what he’d been doing before. 

“Still,” Ezra mused - even though he did have more reason to mingle them; he still cared what his sister thought; he cared about what all his siblings thoughts - he genuinely did; unlike Leon who only cared if you agreed with him. “I think...” he began, “their fine. I don’t see any cause for concern,” but they’d keep an eye out - like they did on everyone in the city. Trust was a dangerous thing and Ezra knew not to give it away lightly. He placed his hands on his knees, groaning as he heaved himself up. “God I am old.” 

He let the bud of his cigarette fall to the floor, using the heel of his shoe to put it out. “Should we head back in?” he asked, offering his arm for his sister to take. Ezra always felt stronger one he had one of his sisters on his arm. “We wouldn’t want them to think we’re rude; or avoiding them.”

[ofcostello]

She smiled, appreciating the massive help her brother gave her. When he was done, she hugged him tight, whispering in his ear. “Are you kidding? You’ve set in stone your place right there after Luca.” she looked at him, truly grateful for his help, pulling away from her half forced hug. “I love you so much I might even toss in a thank you note with the dry cleaning bag.” Sofia joked, but in truth, she could ask someone to do that for her and bring it to him, so it wasn’t that much of a trouble anyways. “Are you busy right now? Do you wanna go and get ice cream maybe?” in all honesty? She needed to unwind. She was like one with Luca the past six months and she needed to regain herself. And focusing on different stuff would do her good, mend the distressed pieces.

Ezra laughed under his breath, “good to know,” he said, using the palm of his hand to wipe off the sweat that had formed in the crease of his brow. Technically he had an appointment - but they could buzz off - after all, they’d left him waiting for over an hour ( they’d have to reschedule ). Ezra nodded; “Sure, we can go to the gelato place around the corner.” It was a chain, with locations all around the city; owned by some second-generation Italians. He’d read an interview with the owner in the newspaper - no one did ice-cream like the Italians as far as he was considered - perhaps based from his own parentage. He could do with eating some ice cream and beer ( he admits a weird combo ) and just unwinding for the afternoon. He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his trousers pulling out his phone and shooting the person he was meant to be meeting a quick excuse. “Let’s go.”

[ofcostello]

Getting rid of your brother. She hadn’t gotten rid of him. He’d left — and it hadn’t been because they reached some sort of conclusion or talked it through. He’d just left. The reminder made her whiskey more bitter, the flavor lingering on her tongue, lips twisting into her best attempt at a grin. She didn’t want to be freed from all that shit. Their family had become her own. And thinking of the possibility of it all slipping away made her stomach coil into a tight knot.

At the mention of him being there, Violet found herself searching for his face among the people, and not for the first time that evening. “I haven’t seen him,” she shrugged, favoring the other topic, “I know. Maybe I will. Wash off some of the charitable vibe with some cheap liquor and cigarette smoke.” She downed the rest of her drink, setting the empty glass on the bar beside her. “Speaking of charity, I have a few more hands to shake so… don’t have too much fun without me.” Vi gave Ezra a wink, placing a hand on his shoulder as she leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Ezra hummed, “you go do that,” he grinned - his cigarette was coming to an end; the bud so short; it was about to burn tips of his fingers. “Text me later;” he tacks on, taking once last drag before throwing the bud and using the heel of his shoe to put it out. He felt the kiss his cheek; feeling the stick from the woman’s lipstick - he didn’t mind. 

“Try not to have too much fun,” he warned jokily - once Violet had retreated back inside - he hung back for a few minutes longer; his breath visible. He groaned; heaving himself up from the steps and taking a dip breath. He stuffed his packet of cigarettes and lighter into the pocket of his trousers. The sooner he went back inside; the sooner this night would be behind them.  

- END -

[chvrlesmelton]

MATTHEW DADDARIO Tommy 1x05

[ofcostello]

Ezra looks down at this watch for what felt like the tenth time ( actually it was more like the twentieth. ) The waitress; a pretty young thing; who is waiting on ‘their’ table attentively pours him another glass of wine. He says ‘theirs’ his lunch mate hasn’t shown yet. Ezra wasn’t surprised, he often felt like he was waiting around for his older brother to show up. No doubt he probably had a reason ( he always did ) and him, ever loyal, waits, knowing himself too well to believe he’ll ever actually leaving no matter how many childish texts he sends ( when it comes to Leon their always going to be little kids, competing to see who’s tougher. ) 

He almost envies that about his other siblings; Mia; a girl ( not in a bad way ) didn’t feel the same competitive twinge, close in age; or at least close enough. The twins were too young, he was never going to duke it out with them. That left just the two of them; a pissing contest he often felt he was playing alone. He grabs the wine glass, takes another rather large gulp; letting it easily slip down his throat; he sighs and waits. When his brother does enter the establishment, Ezra just about makes out his figure from where his sitting; the velvet curtain shielding the table from the tables. They weren’t here to take about anything confidential, Ezra just fond of his privacy. 

“So,” he said dragged out the word lazily; “what time do you call this?” he asked, shaking the wrist for added effect. “I only booked this place because they’re lax on smoking inside.” That was if you knew how to tip right; meals with Leon always involved a considerable amount of smoking, mostly on Ezra’s side - lunches between the two of them, always had him fidgety, and he needed something to quell his nerves. “Especially since you know,” - ( he shacked up with the owner's daughter and never called her back. ) It was aeons ago now, but Sal held a grudge. 

[ @leoncostello​ ]

[ofcostello]

“You know you’re my second favorite brother in the world?” Everyone knew Luca was her best person, like, in every aspect. No one compared. She was sure Ezra knew that as well, so what she said was basically like he’s her favorite brother. aside Luca. She said in a soft squeal, squeezing his arm just a little. “I would have called one of you guys and begged you to help me.” She would have called her brothers to help, get them in touch with manual labor again, really not wanting to call on her money, and get a delivery company just for these samples. Besides, she didn’t feel like dealing with that. “It’s just a few bags, easy peasy.” She went to were her bags were and took two of the bags, which were the lightest, leaving four more for him, two in each hand, she saw dudes doing that trick before. “My car is just around the corner.” Nudging her head towards the left, and looking at him as she waited for him to take them as well. “I love you Ezra, thank you for helping me!”

Ezra laughed at his sister's omission; “as long as I’m before Leon.” Obviously, Luca was her favourite person; hands down no contest; only a fool wouldn’t be able to see that. They were twins, after all, they had some weird ( perhaps horror movie in the making ) connection. The dark-haired man hummed, unconvinced that his sister wouldn’t have dragged some stranger into helping her; she could be persuasive when she wanted to be. But then, Ezra really wondered who he was more concerned for; his sister, or the stranger; those Costello women, they were vultures when they wanted to be. Letting it go, Ezra began the laborious task of piling all of Sofia’s purchases ( a few things, sure. ) into the boot of her car. It took journeys and he was sufficiently sweaty in his suit and tie, but he’d managed to load all her things with minimal trouble. “Finally,” he said whipping his hands to get rid of dust that had stuck to them. “You better love me enough to get this suit dry cleaned.”

[ofcostello]

“But you got that fancy title. Second in command, pretty much, isn’t it? That most definitely means you have to suffer. And lucky for you, you can do it next to me. You can point out the lady of the evening who’ll fall victim to your… we’re still calling it charm, right?” She gave him a teasing grin, clinking her glass against his. 

“No one. Because you definitely were. It’s your duty – you know I fuckin’ hate these things.” She propped her elbows on the bar, leaning the small of her back against it as she scanned the faces in the crowd, “But we all know I gotta play nice. Smile. Shake hands. Mrs. Costello. La-dee-da.”

“Well lucky me,” Ezra muttered dryly, a hint of humour laced in between his words. He wanted to point out that he old had that title because he happened to be born second. “No lucky lady tonight,” he replied, shaking his head; “to there disappointment, I’m sure.” Ezra had made a promise to himself to leave the event relatively sober, and alone; best impressions and all that. 

“I thought getting rid of my brother freed you from all that shit,” he smirked; he’d always thought of the woman as his brother’s better half; “Speaking of which I’m sure he’s around here somewhere; sour face and all.” It was true, smiling didn’t exactly come naturally to his brother as of late. “You can always join me later Vi, the night is still young.”

[ofcostello]

Ezra’s logic made sense. It was best not to trust anyone right away. They seemed harmless enough, but in the public eye, so did the Costellos. Still, in Luca’s eyes, there were bigger concerns at the moment – like finding his missing wife.

“Trust no one,” Luca said, slapping his brother’s shoulder lightly and squeezing. He stared at the entrance to El Palacio. Just thirty more minutes, then he could go home.

“I better head back in. Make sure dad doesn’t think I tried sneaking off.”

Truthfully, Luca had been neglecting time with his siblings ever since Paityn disappeared. He needed to make up for that. “Let’s go out this week – drinks, or something. I need to get out of my place.”

Luca didn’t really give Ezra an option to say no – he grinned at his older brother before walking away. 

“Oh I don’t,” Ezra said, feeling his brother’s hand slap his shoulder. It was the burden they’d all have to bear; the distrustfulness - one way all another they all knew that being who they were, and doing what they did - trusting someone, was like giving that person a ‘royal flush’ - a ticket to destroy their family; trust wasn’t for him. 

Ezra nods when Luca announces his heading back inside. “Good luck,” he grins, watching he watches his brother’s figure disappear out of sight. It’s peacefully quiet again, and Ezra takes the last drag from what really is only a stub at this point before putting whatever was left out on the pavement. 

He’ll go inside soon; mingle for a while longer; until it was acceptable to leave; but for now he sits there; listening to the hum of cars past by; taking it all in. It had been a turbulent time for his family to say this least, but Ezra wasn’t a fool enough to believe it was over ( it never was. )

-END- 

[ofcostello]

Oh, she liked living on the edge as well - so long as she was familiar with that edge, and the aforementioned edge had a safety net below it. Truthfully speaking, while Felicity appeared to be a wild child, she was also a creature of habit - and if there was one thing she dreaded in this world, it was change ( well, that and surprises. oh, she hated surprised, hated not having control ). Most of the things she’d done, were done out of spite and drive to just… upkeep the reputation she’d already had going on. Lately, it was harder that she’d expected it to be - she was just so tired of it; Paityn’s disappearance changed her more than she was aware of, and her reappearance was also bound the further change her. “I like to live in general, Ezra, so let’s just try and stay that way.” She snorted under her breath. Well, she’d like to continue living on the outside - she’s been dead on the inside for months now anyway, but that doesn’t seem like a nice topic, so she bit her tongue. But, then he asked about the Alemans, and for a reason unknown she… tensed. What did she make of them? There was something… unsettling about them, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on - they seemed far too… thrilled by the gala ( like a pair of cats cornering the mice - with the mice living the illusion that they’re the cats, as well ).

“I don’t trust them one bit, if that’s what you’re asking.” She spoke with a purse of her lips, her stare absentmindedly fixed upon the buildings they passed by - seeing, but not really focusing on anything in particular. “There’s something about them that unsettles me. I’m not going to say I fear them - at this point I wonder if I’m afraid of anyone - but, I think they’re far more dangerous and far more deadly than they’d have us believe. I think this false security we feel around them is playing straight into their plans - whatever those might be.” She mistrusted them for one other reason - for Paityn. Questions will be asked, of course, but from the moment she had seen her cousin back from the dead, there was a singular thought in going through her head - that it’s just a little too convenient that she’d appear out of thin air on a gala hosted by the Alemans. And that made her trust them even less ( of course, at this point that was hardly surprising. she trusted no one outside of immediate family - and she tended to see plots and ghosts where there might not be any ). “Makes you wonder if our families really are as smart as they would have the rest of the world believe.” She lightly joked, deciding to elevate the mood, despite the fact that her cousin’s resurrection was still fresh in her mind - and the suffering that Pai undoubtedly went through left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Felicity wondered if he’d seen Paityn while they were still at the… soiree. She wasn’t sure if she should mention it, if she should broach the subject of it ( they’ve managed to avoid talking about their families in depth until now - there was no need to sour the mood ), but she was dying to talk to someone about it, while all is still fresh in her mind. Pausing for a moment as he took the right turn, Fel relented - ah, to hell with it. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but she’s back. Paityn.” Her voice was soft and quiet as she spoke, lips pressing back together. She fell silent as he pulled into the drive and opened the door for her. “Aw. Sir Galahad at my service. I’m flattered.” Fel softly teased, as she slid out of the car, smoothing down the wrinkles on her dress. “Now that is a knight. Perhaps we can dub the bouncer as Sir Percival. Or any other of the knights of the round table.” That was exactly why she never took her car to clubs and pubs - she’d either walk there or take a taxi ( especially when she would go out to drink - she’d always been a sensible and responsible driver ). “I’ve handled more dangerous tasks than having a drink with you, Ez. Lead the way.”

( ... lead the way. ) Don’t mind if I do. Knowing his car was in safe hands, he escorted Felicity inside the club - standing beside her, not in front and not behind; equals in this game of whatever they were playing. For a moment his mind drifts to his car; ( what a man ) he can hear his sisters lambast. Collecting cars was a bit a hobby of his - and by bit - he really meant borderline obsessions; what does one do with the amount of money their packing? Why spend it on ridiculously expensive cars of course. He’d recently bought a vintage Porsche; to call her beauty was an understatement - he’d been tempted by his dealer; who wasn’t subtle about trying to separate Ezra from his cash. Roberto knew him well, knew exactly what it would take to get Ezra to fork out that kind of money; and she hasn’t disappointed. Ezra licked his lips as he entered the club; the dim lighting easy on his easy; it was late enough that the place as cleared out somewhat; not to the point where the club had lost its vibe; however, enough that they didn’t have to wedge between a sea of bodies, sweat getting everywhere; to make to the bar. Once there, he chooses not to sit; the bar stools just too uncomfortable; he's not in the mood to cohort himself any further; he’d done that enough for one night. Instead, he settles for resting his elbow down against the wooden surface.  

The barmaid’s well... not an ex - a night of drunken sex anything more than just that - two people trying to get some gratification out from each other among the hazy influence of alcohol, but she’d wanted them to be more ( they always do. ) That had been years ago, but she still throws him an icy stare every time she sees him; Ezra shamelessly gives her a grin. He had never promised her anything; her want’s were simply not his concern because he’d never gave the impression well.. that he cared. That might sound unnervingly cold, but Ezra wasn’t going to get into any sort of relationship unless it was the real thing; unless he loved the person enough, to trust them with the most important thing in his life; his family. And at this point in his life; he doesn’t have time to make false promises; she’d know the score; it wasn’t his fault if she’d wanted more. She walks over, and Ezra calmly turns to the blond. “Something for the lady?” he asked, pulling out his wallet. If he wanted to; he could have a tab running; they all know his more than good for it, but Ezra doesn’t like to owe people - not even a stupid tab. He pays upfront, every time. It’s a habit he’d acquired from his father; ever since he was a kid - his dad had always told them; nothing in his life comes for free; owe no one, and you’ll always be in control; it’s one of the many lessons his father had given that has stuck with him over the years. 

He orders himself his usual; a dry gin, no ice, and a wedge of lime - ever predictable. He studies Felicity for the second time that night. He finds it almost surreal that they both know so much about each others families; scandals, affairs; and yet as far as Ezra can remember this was the first proper conversation they had ever had. At times the city could feel so small, and other times so large; so many winding streets; the people inside those never-ending houses and apartments foreign to him. From the corner of his eye, he catches something; shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Don’t look now; but I’m pretty sure someone is ‘attempting’ to subtly take a picture of either you or me,” or alternatives them. Ezra wasn’t shocked by this sort of behaviour, but he did admit he was surprised it was directed at him; the paps usually favoured the twins or Mia, something Ezra has no problem with, he preferred to keep his private life just that, social. “Once we’ve got our drinks, we’ll take one of the booths,” he promised, hoping the situation wouldn’t make the blond awkward; or suspicious. It would be better once they were cocooned by faux leather; it would be difficult for anyone to take snaps; they’d be back in their ‘little world’ like on the balcony; left to enjoy their drinks, and navigate the beginnings of whatever it is they were... he didn’t dare say friendship? 

[ofcostello]

“If you like mosquitos.” She could put up with a lot of things but those persistent, pesky bugs whose sole purpose was to drain you of your blood were not one of them. One might think she would not mind them seeing as lifetimes have been spent between her family and others (like the Sinclair family) to spill as much blood as possible. Except she did. Every time she heard the the buzzing from those things she could scream with annoyance. Unlike a human mosquitos were much harder to permanently eliminate. Where there was one hundred more sprang up. 

Then again, that could be said about the Sinclair family too. They procreated faster than rabbits and any bug whose life cycle is only a day combined. 

“If you spray the shit out of all the surrounding area with mosquito repellent and stock up on citronella and bug spray I am sure it would be a great hideaway from our family. Just the environment I can see our little sister, the Cher Horowitz of this family, strutting right up to with no problem.” A cabin in the Swiss Alps she could embrace but this one, which was probably in Colorado or the Upper Peninsula she will veto the idea until her brother changed his mind. 

This family was not made for the woods. Lake Como, Saint Tropez, Capri and Monte Carlo they thrived in. 

“What would that be now? Your fifth Jag?” She cocked her head to the side.  “Should you win it you will be letting your dearest, very close in age sister behind the wheel of it to take it for a spin. Out of the two of us, we both can acknowledge I am better at breaking something with that much power in.”

Ezra laughed, taking another drag. “You know what,” he started, pointing his index finger at Mia, “I’d bid on that cottage just to see our dearest little sister out in the wilderness.” He could picture it; but knew that what he’d conjured up in his mind, would be nowhere as funny as the real thing. “Imagine if there were no cell service.” Hell, it would be like planet of the freaking apes. Honestly, he’d get over the mosquitos, for the entertainment value alone. 

( Doesn’t he know it. ) “Actually my sixth, I may have added something new to the collection that I haven’t told anyone about yet,” he said with a twinkle to his eyes. What could he say; his dealer knew what he liked; “I’ll give you a clue, it’s vintage.” 

Using his fingers, he kneaded the side of his neck; he really needed to get back to the gym already before body parts started to fall off. “So, what you make of the Aleman brothers?” he asked steering the conversation in a different direction. Luca had asked him earlier in the night, and while he didn’t see them as a treat ( yet. ) He was curious about what his sister had made of them. 

“Helping the orphans aside; we know, no one in this town throws these things because of their bleeding hearts.” There was no reason to believe they were any different than the rest of the families in town - but still, he wouldn’t let his family be drawn into a false sense of security.