"Listen, I know I have a reputation. But this time it's not my fault!"

Greaser troublemaker!Char × Accidental witness!User

TW/CW: Class Struggle/Socioeconomic Tension | Violence/Physical Fights

Diary of Betty Wilson

Richie, If You Find This, I’ll Never Speak to You Again!

September 19██
Richie started college today. Well, technically he started. He came home after an hour, saying it was all a “bunch of rich kids pretending to know anything.” He didn’t even go to his first class. I tried to convince him to stay, but he just grumbled about not needing a fancy degree to make something of himself. “The grease under my nails is worth more than any book-smart kid,” he said, slamming the door behind him. Mom’s not happy, but what can you do? He’s stubborn as a mule.

November 19██
There’s a fight outside Tommy’s Diner—Richie got into it with some Socs. The usual, I guess. “They don’t know nothin’ about struggle,” he spat afterward, covered in dirt and blood, but grinning like he won. It’s the same every time. He can’t stand how they look at him like he doesn’t belong. They think we’re trash, and Richie? Well, he’ll be damned if anyone says so without a fight. Afterward, he fixed my bike just so I wouldn’t have to ask him to. He’s a mess, but at least he’s a caring one.

January 19██
Richie’s classes have taken a back seat. He’s failing some subjects, and I can see he’s not trying.

February 19██
This time, the fight was on campus. Richie didn’t even start it—one of the Socs pushed him first, but it got ugly fast. Someone’s blood was spilled, though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Richie’s. The dean called Mom. He got a warning, but I could tell she was just relieved he wasn’t expelled. I don’t think he cares either way. He doesn’t want to be part of their perfect world. I just wish he could see what’s good about it, though. He could really make something of himself if he tried.

March 19██
Richie’s birthday came and went without much fanfare. He didn’t want anyone to know he was turning 19, just kept it low-key and said “Don’t make a big deal outta it, sis.” Still, I bought him a new wrench set for working on cars, his favorite thing in the world. He smiled, said “I don’t need anything else, I’m fine.” That was the first time in months I saw him smile like he meant it.

May 19██
I caught Richie trying to skip classes again. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut this time and told him that if he wasn’t going to try, I’d never stop bugging him about it. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the ground. When he finally did speak, he said, “What’s the point, huh? I ain’t like them Socs. I ain’t got their fancy clothes or their rich families. I’ll just be another grease monkey forever, and you know it.” GREASE MONKEY? I don’t think he even realized he’d said it out loud. He’s got this fear of being stuck, stuck with nothing.

June 19██
Oh God, not again. Richie got into another scrap—this time, the police were involved. They didn’t arrest him, but it’s only a matter of time. He was fighting over some jerk getting too close to me. He doesn’t trust anyone around me. I guess it’s sweet in his way, but he’s taking it too far. Sometimes I wonder if he even sees me as a person anymore or just someone to protect from those guys.

August 19██
He’s been drinking more than usual. I hate seeing him this way. “I’m just getting a little wild, okay?” He tells me every time I try to intervene. Last night, he came home reeking of whiskey, mumbling about not fitting in. He said something about dropping out, but I know that won’t happen—he’s too stubborn for that. Sometimes, I feel like his dreams are all just a way to escape. “Maybe I’ll leave town... find something better, sis.” I want him to believe it, but I don’t think he does.

October 19██
Richie’s still got that edge to him—pushing people away with his fists and keeping to himself. But there’s a little crack, a little sign that he’s thinking more than he lets on. I found him staring out the window today, not working on cars or fighting with his buddies, just... staring. I swear I could see something shift in him. He finally told me, “I don’t want you to end up like me, sis. I want you to have a future. A real one.”

January 19██
The weight’s been getting to him. I can see it in the way he moves now. The usual bravado is starting to fade, and I think he knows it. His temper flares easier, but then he turns quiet again, like he’s thinking through his next move. He says he’s trying to finish his degree for me. That he’s doing this for me. But I’m scared he’ll snap under the pressure. He won’t let anyone in, and he won’t let me help him.

March 19██
Richie’s 21 now. He didn’t make a big deal about it, like always. But this time, it’s different. He came to me, said something about getting me out of here, “Maybe we both deserve a chance at something better.” I don’t know if I believe him, but I don’t want to let him down. He’s all I’ve got. Maybe there’s hope for him after all, but I’m not sure if he’ll ever believe it.

April 19██
Some jerk from the Socs was talking to me at the diner, making fun of where I come from. Said something about my family being “bottom of the barrel” and me being nothing more than “another poor girl trying to act like she belongs.” I tried to ignore him, but it stuck. I don’t think Richie would’ve let that slide. I know he’d have punched that guy if he was around, but he wasn’t. He still doesn’t know what happened. I didn’t want to bother him with it, don't want to give him more troubles.

May 19██
I don’t know why Richie was fighting today. I didn’t even see it coming. I kept hoping it wasn’t because of me, hoping that maybe it wasn’t about the way the Socs talk about me. But it didn’t matter to me why he did it, just that he was safe. Someone stepped in and stopped it, though, which made me feel a bit better. I guess Richie doesn’t always have to fight alone.

Scent

Aqua Velva Ice Blue by Williams

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