❝ Darling, here the gods died, here the horsemen tremble,
here we bathe in gasoline
come, join us in our garden of dead bodies,
we’re having fire for lunch.❞
Charles Zerilli | twenty-four (III) | The Riot Club | Bob Morley | open
Charles Zerilli walked into life with company, and for that, he never learned how to be alone, never tasted the poison of solitude, never had to worry about watching his back. How could he, when he had been lectured, from his toddler days, that family was everything and when his mother has been by his side, holding both his and Charlotte's hands in hers, with every step he took? All of his kindergarten drawings told the same story: the perfect family portrait covered sunshine — and only a long time later did he get to see the rest of the picture. To his surprise, the secret his parents have been keeping from both him and Charlotte hadn't been that they loved each other any less, or that the two children have been picked up, six years ago, from the orphanage. To his surprise, the secret he had to wait until he knew how to tie his own shoes in order to be told had nothing to do with their state of happiness and harmony, but was just the explanation of the strange looking men surrounding papa. Apparently, one day he woke up being the heir of a Detroit Mafia sotto capo and he had that term and its spelling memorized and everybody bowing before him long before he understood what it meant. Charlie grew up with the outsole of his shoes glued to that world, deeply rooted and with a brain that filtered good moves and strategies from bad ever from the very start. Because he, unlike his younger twin sister, had an open heart to learn and listen and because the blood reddening his veins belonged to his father. Ever since the moment Charlie met the family consigliere — the first handshake he would remember — they knew he would dress in white suits and take the place of his father one day.
Wrong. Although blessed with potential and a mind for the kind of business his family name was involved in, Charles prefers a good joke to a gun fight and has never been anything but peace. Although the Mafia world never ceased to fascinate him, as his childhood playground, even after having been given guns to play with at his request and almost shooting Charlotte, and after watching half of his teenage years passing by his father in the office, the man doesn't need signs to tell him that he isn't suited for the job, despite pretending to be in front of his family. They don't need more disappoint from him and he will be, one day, because no Zerilli firstborn skips the throne built on bullets, but having been spoiled and never taken out of his comfort zone — because the entire world is Charlie's comfort zone and nothing in the world makes him feel uncomfortable — made him slower. As much as he wants to take on the family legacy, he knows he is too lighthearted, too sweet and careless to tie a tie around his neck and look for deeper meanings in his partners' words, suspecting what is to suspect and keeping forgiveness for only the worthy. Simply put, he would get shot trying to buy some fruit. He doesn't have time for hate, for negative energy and for trouble — the only thing worth his while being the entertainment behind a pint of cold beer and something buzzing to pop with it. His life style doesn't bother him, howsoever, and the fact that it interferes with his studies leaves him indifferent, as he never wanted to go to university to begin with — it was papa's wish for his children to go as far in life as possible, but Charlie, the boy, tripped over the threshold of their home and didn't care to have a respectable career, unlike Charlotte, who would have got into Oxford even without her father's connections and pressure putting.
They aren't bad people: Charles can kneel before anybody, grab their hands and press his thumbs into their knuckles with belief enough to create holes, and swear to God that they are kind and good people anybody would be lucky to encounter with — but nobody brings up the rumors whispered in the dark about the situation back home of the twins and nobody risks to find out how warm their hearts truly are. No matter what would garantee, the only thing certain in his promises is that his own heart is in the right place, not the others' too. Being decent, howsoever, isn't painting a red target on his forehead, coloring him all stupid from head to toe, because his gentleness and friendly behavior aren't his weakness rather than what is keeping him objective and genuine.
He treats all life like a constant invitation to party after party, knowing no definitions for words like consequences and trying his best to enjoy every gulp of alcohol and every drag of his joint. Yet, the epitome of a fraternity boy is lucky enough to have left out the cruel boy spark from his eyes — as he isn't using his 'best party planner on campus' title dulling the alcohol tolerance of pretty girls and trying to hunt them down after they've had a little more than they can carry. On the contrary, growing up with a sister to look out for turned him responsible at least in that aspect, even though he doesn't actively realize it and believes that bringing a girl a glass of water after shots of tequila and whispering in her ear advice about fixing her skirt and taking care are the least he could do. Yet, the gentleman can do plenty of wrong during summer breaks, when he returns home in the United States and joins his father on his business errands, trying to pick up gangster mannerism and become the perfect substitute for his father.
Marc Arkwright Marc never liked Charlie-boy — never because of anything in particular, but always for some hidden reason that kept stepping on his toes and causing the older male to get annoyed at Charlie’s slightest gesture. Something just seems off to him about him, even though there is no concrete fact or explanation, but that didn’t stop him from jumping to conclusions based on thin air. The fact that Marc cares too little about him to actually pay attention to anything past his anger only makes it worse, because he doesn’t know the person he claims he is hating. The fact that the other man takes it all as a joke and laughs derisively at his frowns intensifies the tension. When Elizabeth started hanging out with Charlie’s closest friends, him included, the reason Marc was desperately looking for to have the right to hate Charlie found him. To this day, he believes that Charlie was trying to steal his girlfriend away from him, if not, has succeeded to, and holds deep grudge, leaving the Zerilli heir confused. And no one at all is better at holding grudges than Marc Arkwright.
Aria Bellefonte They both find it hilarious — their best inside joke, really — that Charlie fell in love with Aria, so they often laugh at it, as it is a very casual topic of discussion for the both of them. He's not affected and she's not bothered; as easy as that. They can't afford to treat it any other way, seeing as Aria and the twins are a compact group, knowing everything about each other, including their deepest secrets, hidden fears and, most of times, predicting each others' reactions, and neither wants the dynamic to change or to have Charlotte be caught in the middle of any kind of silly drama. Charlie isn't bitter about it, liking their relationship the way it is and not minding Aria's coldness, but, on the contrary, understanding it, given the circumstances. Frankly, if he had a choice, he would just stop loving her, because it tangles everything together, but the best he can do for now is dismiss his feelings and laugh them off until they become a joke.
Charlotte Zerilli No matter how many girls pass through Charles' heart, Charlotte is the only constant in his life and their connection is so strong that he doesn't need to tell her that — as if she can read his thoughts to make sure of it. She is his only weakness and he is her most solid strength, and, looking at them, all the twin stereotypes come true. Although, personality speaking, they are nothing alike, the Charlies are in perfect harmony. Although Charlotte isn't certain of too many things in her life, she is certain of her brother and everything he means to her — and needless is it to say that the feeling is mutual. When it comes to potential, he sees hers like through a transparent glass and believes in nothing, not even God, more than he believes in her ability to untie links with their family name and start fresh a walk down the path to success. It saddens him to see Charlotte heading such a different direction, but there is nothing he wants more than her happiness.
Cordelia McQueen On a regular basis, this girl shows no emotion and is known for a passive, lost in space stare that nobody can reach under and cut off, even in conversations, but Charlie caught her in a delicate moment, during one of the infamous weekly parties and she poured her heart out and all of her sadness, almost enough to drown him. Ever since, he obliged, despite her insistence to just forget it, and became her confidant and friend, no matter how much she fought the idea at first. After all, they have nothing in common, but the man can make friends out of thin air and find a connection in everybody, even the ice queen of the campus. Nobody knows about their friendship, but it ironically and weirdly enough is one of the only things keeping Cordelia floating.
