Chapter Text
The city isn’t an easy place to be.
It doesn't look that way on the surface. It lures crowds off ships with its palm trees and beaches. It coaxes travellers to take off their coats with its mild winters and tropical gulf streams. Its wide boulevards and low buildings promise views of the lush mountains cradling the city from any angle. The vibrant sunsets through the haze on the horizon make the whole populace stand still. Why would someone ever leave Takodana?
Rey can think of a few reasons.
There’s too much rain soaking into her socks every time Rey steps into the street. There are too many people using their shoulders instead of their words to get by. There are too many fees added onto every survival meal and warm place to sit. Still, Rey wouldn’t dream of leaving. Not after how she’s fought to get there, not after she’s stubbornly stuck her roots in the gritty concrete and decided to grow.
Today, Takodana is really testing her resolve.
The bus coming home is full. And the one after that. And the one after that. She ends up walking an hour to the train station just to find that the tracks are under construction and she has to take a taxi home. Someone gets in a screaming match with her driver in the next car over when they cut them off in traffic. Rey throws the rest of her grocery cash at the driver and gets out to walk instead. Another week on beans, rice, and wilty spinach from her window sill garden. Her public teacher salary barely covers her rent. But it's alright. She loves her job. She doesn't need fine dining.
At least Finn is bringing over takeout tonight.
It's halfway through their meal on her tiny fold-out table, that the last straw breaks her back.
“Are you kidding me?!”
The water gushing out from below her sink is black. Not grey, not murky. Black.
Rey leaps onto a chair by the fold-out table.
“Will you move out now?” Finn said as he clambers onto Rey’s bed.
“If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to hit you with a stick,” Rey calls back to him, frantically searching for the property manager’s number. She could fix it herself given a bit of time and elbow grease, but there’s a difference between a backed-up sink and biohazard sewer sludge. She can’t afford to get sick even more than she can’t afford a new place.
“Fine, I just remember mentioning that this place was cheap and the management cut corners on your door lock. It’s an obvious tell that they don’t actually fix anything.”
“My door lock is fine!”
“Rey, you have to tuck a chair under the handle to keep it from falling off.”
“Stop making points during my crisis!”
Her bath mat floats by like a cotton candy boat. There go all her cute rugs.
The property manager picks up on the fourth ring. He’s grumpy and unhelpful. Rey essentially has to tell him she’s cutting out on her sublet to make him understand she’s serious. The fines are going to hurt. She hates when she doesn't have a choice. She can make most things work. But sewer sludge is a little beyond her flexibility.
Rey and her few remaining dry belongings are out of the building before the property manager arrives.
“It’ll be fine,” Finn says, helping Rey carry the last garbage bags of clothes up the six flights to his condo, “You have a great job, you’re not in any crazy debt. You’ll get a new place in no time.”
“Sure,” Rey gasps, dropping her last garbage bag in a heap at Finn’s door, “in no time.”
-v-
It isn’t no time after all.
It’s two months and counting.
“Case closed on that one,” Rey sighs. She kicks off her shoes in a pile at the front door and collapses onto Finn’s couch.
Finn, brow creased with worry, crosses his arms, “What was wrong with that place? Not that I don’t like you living here, but-”
“Poe is moving in and you guys should have some privacy,” Rey finishes for him, digging out a stray hairbrush from below her. It isn’t supposed to be there. But then again, this couch is her bed, dresser, boudoir, desk, and coat rack. She’s stretched Finn’s generosity father more than she feels comfortable. Her back is also getting all messed up from sleeping on the too-soft cushions.
“So…” Finn prompts.
“They wanted twice my budget in rent and I’d have to commute two hours to work, and three hours back with traffic.”
“Oh.”
It’s hard enough to get to the school on the East side. If she lives outside of the downtown core, there’s no way she can get to the elementary school and to taekwondo coaching after on time. Little kids don’t care either way if she’s on time or presentable. It's their parents that she has to impress to keep her jobs.
Rey opens her laptop and crosses the apartment listing off her spreadsheet. Just one left. One she has no chance in hell to get.
“Finn, will you marry me?”
Finn laughs, “No, you snore too loud. I also already have a place to live. And a boyfriend.”
“Ouch! No hesitation?!” Rey says in mock-hurt, “Not even for your favourite girl?!”
Finn sinks into the couch beside her to peer at her laptop and gives her a side-hug.
“I love you, but I'm not ditching Poe to run off with you. Have you seen his face?"
"What about my face?" Rey pouts exaggeratingly. Finn ruffles her hair and she whacks him on the arm.
"Is it one of those married couples only ones?” he asks.
“Yeah, annoying, right?”
“I ran into those all the time when I was looking for this place. Luckily Holdo just had an opening right when I showed up.”
“It’s so unfair! Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m going to ruin the place!”
“No, but it does make you less financially attractive than two stable incomes.”
“Ugh, not everyone needs to be married to be happy,” Rey grumbles.
Finn smiles sympathetically, “So what are you going to do?”
“Well. I guess I need to lie.”
“I don’t know if you have to-”
“Nope,” Rey insists, “I definitely do. This is the fortieth apartment I’ve looked at. I’ve been such a burden already. You and Poe deserve some space.”
“Sorry, you know I’d knock down another wall for you if I could.”
“It might be the next step if I can’t get this apartment.”
“Alright, what’s the plan A?”
“Well,” Rey blows out a breath, “I suppose I’m going to talk my way in.”
-v-
“No, Ms.Katana,” Rey says as she steps off the train, “My husband can’t make it to the viewing today. It will just be me.”
The train screeches back into motion behind her. Rey is already hustling up the steps by the time it departs.
“I will have to meet him before you sign,” says the prospective landlady, “I need to make sure you’re respectable people.”
Of course, thinks Rey, so you can discriminate however you like against a single woman trying to make ends meet.
“Of course. I'll call him again. See you soon.”
Rey hangs up and groans. The escalator sweeps her up into the autumn evening. So she isn’t going to be pretending she was a military wife or something. She needs a real live respectable person. Sometimes she really hates this town.
The escalator spits her out at a bus loop full of bustling commuters. Rey can’t help feeling a little excited. The apartment she’s about to tour is only one train stop from the school on the East side. No more standing forlornly at bus stops. No more endlessly waiting. Rey pauses as she passes the last bus stop.
Someone is standing under the sign for the bus she used to take. It has an odd schedule, only during peak hours. It's long past peak hours now.
“That bus doesn’t come after seven.”
She tosses out the comment as she walks by the stop, an act of passive kindness for the one person still standing under the bus sign.
“What?”
The word is slurred low and flat.
The word is also laden with entitlement.
Rey’s hackles raise and she spins back to face them. The ‘them’ in question is a big fellow dressed like an off-duty investment broker. The black suit nearly blends into the shadows. It’s never cold enough in Takodana to need a coat, but there’s one draped over his wide shoulders anyway. His shoes irritate her for some reason. There’s no way shoes can be that shiny unless there’s someone to polish them. His slicked-back shoulder length hair and dark eyes complete the image of someone who would try to contest her random act of kindness.
Rey’s hands find her hips before she even decides to be upset.
“I said that bus doesn’t come after peak hours. You’re going to be standing out here until six in the morning unless you want to walk.”
The guy should frown, or at least show some kind of gratefulness that she's saving him from hours of pointless waiting. Instead, he appraises her, chin tilted up.
“Really?” It doesn’t come off like a question, but a challenge.
“Um, yes,” Rey checks her watch, “Sorry, I have to go. Good luck.”
“Where are you going in such a hurry,” the guy drawls. He’s clearly under the influence of something. It’s not even that late in the evening. How did he even get so messed up this early? Why is she still talking to him? He’s much bigger than her, and the bus loop is emptying out. Nothing good is bound to come next.
Although.
It might be the long day herding toddlers that’s killing her brain cells. It might be the stress of being virtually homeless for two months. That’s at least what she tells herself. Either way, an idea pops into her head. A bad idea. A scraping-the-bottom-of-the-barrel idea.
“Actually, I’m trying to do a two person job all by myself.”
“How do you mean?” He’s coherent enough, even completely plastered.
“You wouldn’t happen to be free for an hour, would you?” Rey asks, avoiding the question.
“Depends. What’s in it for me, bus stop girl?” the fellow asks, challenging again. Maybe that’s just the way he talks. “Are we reenacting some true crime? Taking a back alley tour?”
A bit uncomfortable, Rey drops the pretence, “Alright, this is gonna sound a little bit strange and I promise I’m not trying to human traffic you. But I’m in a bind and I need to summon a husband out of thin air so I can get this apartment.”
“And you’re asking a random man at a bus stop because…?”
“The appointment’s in five minutes and I thought I could talk my way out of it but I can’t.”
A smirk coils across the stranger’s mouth. A cat with a canary would look more innocent. She’s definitely walking herself into trouble. She doesn’t see what choice she has. If he tries anything, she’ll just kick him in the groin and run. It’s what she’s been training eight-year-olds to do all afternoon. It's not like he's going to be able to chase her in this state.
“Fuck it,” says the stranger, “I’ll do it. Maybe you can tell me where the hell I'm going when we’re done. If you’re not planning on murdering me in an alley. I'm Kylo.”
He sticks out his hand. The titanium black and red watch on his wrist looks heavy. Expensive. His knuckles are red too. It’s not cold enough outside to chafe the skin. She tries not to think about how he got bloody knuckles.
Rey shakes his hand. It's a warm hand. She can feel his pulse in the base of his palm. It's quicker than it should be. Definitely not just alcohol in the system.
“Rey," she introduces herself, "I’ll have to dash your true crime dreams, though. I don’t murder people I just met. It’s more of a third date kind of thing.”
He snorts. She grins. Maybe she can pull this off.
They walk towards the residential streets beyond the train station. Rey is all too conscious of the time ticking down. Being late can’t possibly help her application. Kylo falls into stride with her like they're already old friends. His steps weave a bit and he keeps bumping into her. In the interest of not tripping over him, Rey grabs his arm. The weaving footwork stops after that. It’s strange to be hanging onto the random man she met at the bus stop like he’s her responsibility, but Rey doesn’t have time for normal.
“Is this really the part of town you want to live in? On purpose?” Kylo asks offhandedly.
“Ideally," Rey replies, ignoring his condescending tone, "It’s better than where I am.”
It really is.
The neighbourhood they walk through was something out of a movie. Lights spiralling up palm trees glow softly above the street. Hibiscus and birds-of-paradise nestle together in vibrant splashes at the bases of ornate street lamps. The sidewalks are wide and each walk-up has a small front yard with low wrought iron fences. It looks peaceful. And clean.
Rey scans the numbers on the buildings and glances down at her map. It should be the one at the end, the only high-rise on the block. Which means it will have an unobstructed view. Perfect.
“Everything’s so small,” Kylo mutters, “Where’s the valet?”
Rey glares at the side of his head, “I don’t have a car.”
Kylo squints down at her. For a moment, her breath catches in her throat. Why'd she pick such a striking stranger? She yanks him out of the path of a fire hydrant a little harder than necessary.
“So Rey who only murders on the third date,” Kylo starts again, stumbling back into step, “is there anything I need to be ready to say, as your new husband?”
Rey shrugged, “Not really. I’ll do the talking and you just agree with whatever I say.”
“So like a real marriage then?”
“Ha ha. All you need to know is my last name is Skywalker and I have a great credit score. You don't have to change your name, but it might help. Don’t say anything that a nuclear family man wouldn’t say. I need the landlady to think we're the picture of stability.”
Kylo walks a few steps. Then he abruptly stops in his tracks, forcing Rey to pivot on her heel to keep from falling over.
“Skywalker?” he demands.
“Foster child," Rey explains, "Never got adopted so I took the name of the group home when I turned eighteen.”
Kylo frowns, brow furrowed, “But you can’t be a Skywalker.”
Rey rolls her eyes, “Take it up with the judge.”
Then she uses her entire body weight to pull him back into a brisk walk. They’re quiet for a moment. Who knows why he suddenly seems so sullen. If there’s one thing she knows about him, it’s that he obviously has problems she is not equipped to deal with. Or willing. She just needs him to keep it together for the next hour.
“Are you a good liar?” she asks.
“Huh?” he grunts, clearly lost in thought.
“Can you lie well? Are you going to be able to keep up?”
Kylo looks affronted, “Of course I can lie. Here, I’ll prove it,” he says determinedly, “You are very ugly and I am not going to hurl if we keep walking this fast.”
Rey isn’t sure whether she should blush or gag. She slows down a bit either way.
“Alright. Maybe just don’t talk. We'll keep it simple. All you need to know is that you’re very wealthy and love to pay rent with your very full bank account. I can improvise the rest.”
“I am,” Kylo says seriously.
“And you hate having dinner guests.”
“I do.”
“And you’re allergic to pets.”
“I am?” Now Kylo looks confused.
“I don't know, I just wanted to flesh out your character.”
“Oh.”
Ms. Katana meets them in the lobby. Rey is so busy admiring the art deco chandelier and the free coffee by reception that she doesn’t notice the small woman beckoning them to the elevator. A heavy-handed nudge from Kylo snaps her back to reality. Right. Charming the pants off this ancient lady who really ought to have a walker.
She really wants to hate the apartment. She wants it to be ugly and small and have a weird permanent smell. It would make things easier, another out of reach opportunity biting the dust.
The apartment isn’t ugly. It's quite the opposite. It has beautiful hardwood floors and warm grey granite countertops like the kind she sees on real estate reality tv. The light fixtures are properly attached to the walls. That one is a low bar. Most places don’t clear it.
The apartment isn’t as small as she thought from the pictures. High ceilings and the open-concept living space make it seem as big as a house. Spacious windows glitter with a view of the cheery neighbourhood and city stretching out in a glittering blanket. There are two bedrooms, which are two more than she or Finn have.
It smells like lemon and cedar.
Rey is totally besotted.
She hopes that Kylo's bad attitude will help her come to terms with the likelihood that she won't get it. But he doesn’t help at all. Typical.
“It’s not half bad,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth as Ms. Katana, Maz as she introduced herself, shows them the master bedroom, “You could fit all kinds of crap in that walk-in closet.”
“Yes, like my wedding gown,” Rey says loudly. Kylo gives her an incredulous look like even he can tell she's being too obvious, but Maz smiles approvingly.
“You two make a beautiful couple. How many years?”
Kylo’s brow furrows and he starts to speak, “How many-?”
“Six months,” Rey cuts him off.
“Ah,” says Maz knowingly, “Newlyweds. Now you two get busy making some little ones, yes?”
Kylo breaks into a coughing fit. Rey is certain her face is turning red. She resents the idea that her only purpose is to spawn more little tenants to charge. The idea of having a family is nice though, somewhere down the road. And definitely not with the sloshed finance shark who’s only still standing because of her grip on his arm.
“Of course,” Rey says tightly.
“This neighbourhood is wonderful for young families,” Maz continues, a glint in her eye, “Helps with the tenant retention too.”
So that’s what she’s after. She won’t give them the apartment unless they convince her that they’re having kids. It’s so wrong for so many ways, so insulting. But those skylights…
“We’re looking in this area since the local school is ranked in the top five in the city,” Rey draws on what she remembers from the last ranking report meeting she sat through at the school, “And best student to teacher ratio too. We’ll be staying until we can put the whole litter through.”
“Litter?!” Kylo sputters.
Rey pats him on the arm and looks at Maz like they're sharing an inside joke, “He’s still warming up to the idea, but he promised me at least three.”
Maz smiles warmly at them, “In that case, let’s take a look at those papers.”
Following Maz out of the room, Rey has to stop herself from breathing a huge sigh of relief. Then Kylo nearly walks into a planter and she refocuses on keeping the colossal man from toppling over. He keeps staring at her instead of where he's going. It's very unhelpful.
Luckily, Maz doesn’t comment on how Kylo’s balance seems to be a bit off. Or how he can barely string a sentence together. She must really want a couple if she's willing to overlook their transgressions. Rey counts her blessings that Kylo isn't too chatty. Nothing like overcompensating to ruin a good lie.
On the kitchen counter, Maz lays down the lease contract. Rey hadn’t expected to get this far or like it this much. What is she supposed to do? It’s not like she can sign for both of them with Maz standing right there.
“It will be fifteen hundred if you sign now. Eighteen if you want to take time to think about it.”
“Per week?”
Maz shakes her head fondly, “Per month.”
“What? Really?” Rey’s brain drags at the sound of that number. She knows she picked it because it’s in her budget, but after seeing the apartment, she half-expected to be missing a zero.
Maz smiles indulgently, “I hand select each tenant in this building. You wouldn’t believe the repair expenses I save by choosing high quality attached individuals.”
She looks significantly at Kylo who stares back at her. Rey speaks for him before he can say something nonsensical, “Rest assured, we’re the real deal.”
Silently, Kylo puts his arm around Rey’s shoulder. His fingertips feel like open spark plugs against her upper arm. Rey leans into him anyway, trying to mould her face into a dreamy expression of marital bliss. By the way Kylo huffs a laugh under his breath, she does a bad job.
“What do you think,” Kylo murmurs loud enough for Maz to eavesdrop, “should we sign, darling?”
A tingle runs down her spine at the affection in his voice. It almost sounds real. Rey shakes herself out of it.
“Absolutely, sugarbear,” Rey’s voice drips acid. She can’t help it. She knows he's just trying to help, but she suddenly feels like the stakes are too high to be relying on a man like him. This is her life they’re dealing with.
Maz pushes the papers towards them. Rey signs one set. After a long moment of hesitation Kylo signs the other. His signature is jagged but neat. Kylo Ren. She wonders if he used his real name. She doesn’t know the implications if he does or if he doesn't. The more she thinks about it, the more she's convinced she's gone too far.
It’s a fair assumption that what she’s doing was illegal to some degree and just a little immoral in general. But this view and location for that price? She would sign her soul away. She doesn’t even read one line of the contract.
It’s too late for second thoughts because Maz is packing the signed leases into two Manila envelopes and leading them back down to the lobby. As they walk, Kylo drapes his arm back over Rey’s shoulder. He smells like cologne and alcohol. Judging by the amount of pressure he’s putting on her shoulders, he’s doing it mostly to hold himself up.
In the lobby, Maz hands Kylo the keys and the spare copy of the lease, and wishes them good luck with their move. Rey thanks her so much that Kylo looks annoyed. She doesn’t care what he thinks. She’d say a million thank you’s not to be unhoused anymore. They walk out into the peaceful street like the happy couple they’re supposed to be, Rey smiling from finally getting somewhere to live, and Kylo likely smiling from getting out of there. His smile drops the second they exit the doors.
They take five steps back down the street. Then Kylo stops in his tracks. Rey’s not holding onto him anymore, so she turns to see what's wrong with him on her own.
“What is it?”
Kylo ducks his head in an almost gentlemanly gesture.
“Pardon me.”
Then he vomits in the bush.
It only lasts for a few seconds. Soon he’s breathing heavily with his hands on his knees trying to recover. In this moment, he seems a lot younger than she initially thought. His black hair hangs in loose strands around his face. His brown eyes stare at the ground miserably. He might have fancy shoes and an expensive watch, but all she sees is a lost boy.
She takes a step to approach him. He holds up a hand. She stops in her tracks. Right. They aren’t friends. He probably wants some space to compose himself.
With a frustrated grunt, Kylo wipes his mouth on his sleeve and shoves his hair back into place.
“Okay, I’m good.”
He rises to his full height, and gestures down the sidewalk. Rey shrugs. She walks on. A moment later he falls into step with her.
“You really meant what you said about hurling earlier,” Rey says to make conversation.
Kylo sighs and runs a hand over his hair, “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, you wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t for me.”
“Fair enough.”
They’re quiet for a moment. Rey looks around as they walk. There are families watching TV together in their living rooms. Parents reading stories to their kids. An old couple slow dancing by candlelight. All of them earned their place in this beautiful neighbourhood.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?”
Kylo peers at her sideways, “Huh?”
“Do you think I’m a bad person? For lying to Maz, for dragging you into this, all of it?” Rey asks quietly.
Kylo makes a dismissive noise and waves her off, “The fact that you’re even asking me that is proof that you’re not. You didn’t rob a hospital. You just gamed the system. Believe me, I’ve done a lot worse.”
Rey is suddenly reminded that she doesn’t know him. He’s still a stranger who’s lost at the bus loop. Instead of prying for more information, she just says, “That’s kind of you to say.”
"I don't understand why you needed to do it though," Kylo says. He seems to be sobering up as they walk.
"How so?"
Kylo holds her gaze. Something sparks in Rey's chest. His scrutiny is electric, even plastered on a Tuesday night. She can't imagine what he'd be like with all his faculties.
"You're a beautiful girl, why don't you have someone to do this for real?"
Rey shrugs. It's a question she's got before, albeit usually less forward. She gives him the answer she always gives.
"Life isn't always easy. Mine hasn't been particularly stable. I'm not going to burden another person if I don't have to. Things are better that way."
"That's a shame."
They turn the next corner into the bus loop. Kylo slows down. So does she. The reality hasn’t set in yet. She can’t stop smiling for some reason. A smirk plays at the edge of his mouth too.
“Here,” he says, digging in his pocket. He produces the keys and hands them to her.
“Thank you,” Rey takes them and slides them into her purse.
“I s’pose you should be going,” says Kylo. They come to a stop, standing beneath the orange lights of the bus stops.
“Right,” Rey agrees, “Thank you for helping me. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. Have a nice life.”
She finds that she means it genuinely. He seems like he could probably use some simple goodness in his life. Not luxury, not success, just something good.
Kylo catches her hand just before she walks away. She stares at him, half-guarded, half-curious.
“You never told me what bus to take,” he says drolly.
“Oh," she's strangely disappointed, like she expected something else. She doesn't know what. She doesn't want anything else from him. "Sure, it’s the 44 just down there. It goes the same route uptown just with more stops.”
“Thank you, Rey.”
The words are weighty with something Rey doesn’t know. There’s an intensity in his gaze like an element burning on high that sets her on edge. Her heart sparks again in her chest.
“Okay. Um, bye.”
He drops her hand. For the first time that night, the air feels cold on her skin.
Rey hustles to the train. Every step faster than the last. She puts the interaction out of her mind because there's something better to carry her home. Finally, she has somewhere to live. Not only somewhere, but somewhere beautiful and affordable, and in a great part of town.
Finally, finally, something is going right.