From hatred to love. Trust turns to betrayal.
The story of the leader of a troublemaker group called the Jets and a lonely girl who has lived her life in hiding with little to no one knowing who she truly is.
Riff Lorton; leader of the Jets.
...
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Riff, Ice and Action; Bernardo, Braulio and Quique.
They stood in the boys' bathroom, opposite each other. Riff looked in the mirror and put on his outerwear.
"You want to fight, right?" Quique questioned.
Ice scoffed, "Not here. We gotta set it up."
"Set it up? You mean like a date?" Bernardo asked with an eyebrow raised.
"All of you, and all of us," Riff said as he straightened his jacket.
Bernardo took a step forward as he looked at Riff, "We're busy guys. We got jobs. Why should we play on the playground with a bunch of—"
"Control of your territory, that's what you get," Riff interjected. "We keep clear out of your way, you're Jet-free. If you win. We win, you see us coming and we will keep coming. You Sharks make like the rats and skedaddle."
Bernardo liked the idea, although his expression doesn't show. He took a step back from Riff and nod his head.
"Where?"
"The river."
"The docks."
"The underpass."
"The rail yards."
"The salt shed."
"¿Donde? (Where?)" Bernardo asked Quique, only to be answered by Riff.
"De dónde está 57th and the river."
Quique was offended by his reply, however, Bernardo held him back.
"Next Tuesday, midnight. How does that sound?" Riff suggested, extending his hand to seal the deal.
Bernardo shook his hand.
"Weapons?" Riff began.
"Fists."
"Rocks."
"Bricks."
"Pipes."
"Chains."
"Knives?"
The boys next to them both interfered, in all disagreement for the use of knives in the rumble that they are having. They fear what could happen but Riff fears nothing. In the heat of the moment, Riff loved to tease them.
"Better without knives," Bernardo concluded.
"Better for who is the question that comes to mind, but no knives," Riff shrugged. "And no jazz till then. Copasetic?"
Riff extended his hand once again and Bernardo willingly took it. With that, he turned and left the bathroom, leaving the Jets alone.
Ice started, "Riff, I don't know, that about knives, that was—"
