Chapter Text
Chapter Two: Long Time, No See
Nacho
Nacho pulls in front of the two-story house that stands alone from all the others in the neighborhood. He spots Domingo’s distasteful, lime green Regal and two other vehicles parked just outside the garage doors, which surely held more hot rods and classic cars inside. He puts the car in park and takes the keys out of the ignition. Despite Domingo’s desire for extravagant and over-the-top things, he never knows how to keep them that way.
They both peer over at the unkempt exterior of the house. It’s a beautiful Spanish, eclectic house with terracotta barrel roofs and rounded archways. The shrubbery is brown with drought and seems to wilt underneath the unrelenting heat of the sun. Not a single cloud occupied the sky. The yellow lawn is on the verge of becoming overgrown and the white stucco walls are cracking in some places and the left side of the house is dusted in red dirt from the desert winds. One would think Domingo had enough funds to hire a lawn care worker, but Nacho can’t say that he’s surprised by the home's lack of upkeep.
The Molina and Varga families have always been close, even before Domingo and Nacho were born. Their mothers were childhood best friends and that relationship carried on into their adult years. They both became pregnant around the same time and because of this, Nacho and Domingo had no choice but to hang out often with one another growing up. He remembers attending each other’s birthday parties and exchanging action figures and baseball cards. After Nacho’s mother died, he became so reserved and detached that they naturally grew apart but have always kept in touch. When they became teens, Nacho found himself growing close to Tuco Salamanca, an amateur drug dealer at the time, and began dealing marijuana to his peers.
Domingo and his friends were one of his first customers and they frequented his little side business nearly every weekend until Domingo started dealing himself. Years after Nacho had graduated and became an employee at his father’s upholstery shop, he gave up his puny marijuana dealings and traded them in for methamphetamine deals. “My uncle says that’s where the big bucks are, ese,” Tuco had told him. At this point, Tuco had become a high ranking member of the cartel and took on Nacho as his most trusted colleague to help him run operations north of the border. He was incharge of keeping dealers in line and making sure their share of the dealings were accounted for. Nacho vouched for Domingo when he eventually caught wind of Nacho’s swift promotion within the cartel and hefty pay increase and took him on as one of his dealers.
Nacho has always been aware of Tuco’s short temper and extremely irrational ways of thinking. He even has a permanent reminder of just how unstable Tuco is when he shot Dog in the face and Nacho had been so close that a piece of his skull embedded itself underneath the skin of his shoulder. So it wasn’t shocking when Tuco had gotten arrested for being in the wrong place during a big drug bust by the DEA and assaulting three officers as the cherry on top. That’s when Lalo was brought in to take his place.
It’s been two days since they had brought their proposal to Don Maximo and have been struggling to get dealers on board. Knowing that Domingo has dealt with cocaine briefly in the past, Nacho arranged to speak with him about helping start up this possible new operation. Lalo, being the impatient man he was, had no interest in waiting until night fell to meet with him at El Michoacano.
“Let’s go talk business,” Lalo beams from the passenger seat before sliding out of the vehicle and closing the door. Nacho drove them to Domingo’s house unannounced after Lalo insisted they meet with him as soon as possible. Nacho reluctantly strides up to the front door.
Lalo rings the doorbell and the sound of a dog barking erupts from inside. The door swings open moments later and Domingo stands there with his hand gripped tightly around the collar of a barking Rottweiler, “Stash, calma,” He orders and the dog seems to back off but low snarls still rumble in its throat. Domingo holds an expression of surprise as the two of them look at him expectantly.
“Lalo. Nacho,” He greets with a nod to each of them and steps to the side to let them in. He knew not to question why they were there or deny them entry.
“Nice place,” Lalo comments with a grin as he gives Domingo a pat on the shoulder and steps through the threshold. Domingo shoot’s Nacho a look as he follows Lalo inside and into the small foyer. They gradually amble their way deeper into the house and take in their surroundings. The living room and kitchen were both in disarray with empty pizza boxes and soda cans. Dirty clothes litter the sofa and dog toys are strewn about. Nacho spots a hot pink thong thrown onto the back of the sofa and moves his gaze up to look at the art hung on the wall. Stash circles them, sniffing and inspecting them. His tail starts wagging happily once he determines that the two men aren’t a threat.
“Cute dog too,” Lalo says, kneeling down to pet him. Stash collapses to the ground and rolls onto his back. Lalo laughs and indulges the mutt until the sound of heels clicking down the tile hallway approaches them. Nacho looks toward the sound to see two faces he almost didn’t recognize at first glance. Serafina Vincenzo and Desiree Rivera. Lalo slowly rises to his feet as he silently drinks up Serafina’s appearance. Desiree’s eyes widen slightly before immediately recovering and looking over at Domingo, who shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.
Nacho was surprised to see Desiree and Domingo under the same roof after what happened to Monique Carson, but he’s impressed that Domingo has kept them out of the cartel’s sights for this long. He knows there is no way they were unaware of Domingo’s connections with the cartel, seeing as though they clearly all live under the same roof in a house bought entirely with drug money, which makes their dynamic even more questionable. Domingo hasn’t spoken of them at all since he started dealing under Nacho years ago and he hasn’t laid eyes on either of them in years. Serafina’s ego has surely done nothing but inflate since then and Desiree was probably still as unreadable as ever.
Serafina hasn’t changed much since high school, other than developing more around the breasts and hips. She has the same honey brown eyes, golden Italian skin, and sculpted jawline with high cheekbones. The same flowing shine of dark mahogany hair down her spine. The same thick, nicely groomed eyebrows, synthetically long lashes, and glossy lips. She pops her hip out to the side and a manicured hand comes up to rest on it. Her skin tight yoga pants with a fold down waistband exposes her tan stomach and the charm on her belly button ring that glimmers as it catches the light. The leopard print halter top hugs her slender figure and plunges deep enough to see most of her cleavage. She towers over them in her black pleaser heels with a look of displeasure written across her face. Her bold appearance didn’t surprise Nacho at all.
Nacho moves his gaze to where Desiree stands next to her. She looks different in some ways but more familiar in others. Her face is no longer obstructed by smudged charcoal and mascara circling her eyes. You could make out the shape of them better. Her eyes are doe-like and melancholy with rich, espresso colored pupils and curled lashes. The faint beauty mark on her right cheekbone isn’t painted over with concealer or foundation and her lip ring has been taken out, but the piercing in her eyebrow remains. Her hair isn’t burned unnaturally straight or littered with chunky pink or red or blue highlights anymore. Instead, her naturally wavy, black hair is pulled into a ponytail and cascades down to between her shoulder blades. Wispy, unruly curls stick out away from her face.
The black and white Adidas sweatpants hung lowly on her hips, putting her doughy stomach on display. She was no longer skin and bones like she had been in high school. Nacho thinks that she’s filled out nicely. She was never one to have school spirit, so seeing her in a gray Redcrest Valley High shirt that she had clearly cropped herself is strange to see. It’s even stranger to see her in heels identical to Serafina’s. She glances between the two of them, doing a double take of Nacho for a millisecond longer as recognition washes over her but her expression remains completely neutral and gives nothing away.
Lalo slowly rises to his feet with a growing smile on his face. He tilts his head in curiosity as he takes a step toward the two women, “Who’s your friends?”
Domingo looks over at Desiree before he speaks, “They were just leaving actually.”
His eyes roam over Serafina’s figure and by the growing smirk on her face Nacho can tell she’s liking the attention from him, “That’s a shame,” Lalo states lowly and Serafina eyes him up. He extends his hand towards her, “Lalo Salamanca.”
“Serafina Vincenzo,” She says in a sultry tone and places her hand in his. Desiree shuts her eyes and lets out a quiet breath of disapproval as if defeated by Serafina’s reluctance to give Lalo her full, real name.
“Serafina,” Lalo repeats as if savoring the feeling of it in his mouth before bringing her hand to his lips briefly. The two of them stand there basically undressing each other with their eyes. Desiree rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest at this. “And you are?” Lalo questions with the same charming smile plastered on his face as he rips his eyes away from Serafina and turns his gaze to Desiree. She looks at him with disdain and remains silent, “Not the chatty type, eh?” Lalo asks playfully.
“Not really,” She responds sternly, clearly fed up.
Lalo chuckles and shakes his head, “Guau,” Lalo says, turning and walking back towards Domingo, “You must have your hands full with that one, amigo.”
“Let’s go shoot some pool in the game room and talk,” Domingo says, motioning his head away from the group and purposely ignoring Lalo’s comment. Domingo and Lalo make their way towards the game room and Nacho trails behind them, leaving Serafina and Desiree to quietly reprimand one another regarding each of their interactions with Lalo.
Domingo shuts the door behind them after they walk into a dark room lit up only by the ever changing LED strips lining the ground, which casts itself against the wall, neon signs hung around the room, and moving pixels that glide and shoot across the arcade screens. Behind the nauseating amount of colors and retro whirrs, chimes, and dings was a lounge area of sorts with a large black sectional, flat screen TV mounted onto the wall with gaming consoles plugged into it, and a pool table near the bar on the far side of the room.
“Can I get you guys a drink?” Domingo questions, walking behind the bar.
“Modelo,” Lalo states as he grabs a cue stick and chalks the tip. Domingo grabs three beers from the mini fridge below the bar and pops the tops off before walking over and extending one to Nacho. Nacho takes it and watches as Lalo arranges the balls in the rack, leaning against the bar and taking a swig of his beer. Lalo leans down and lines up the stick with the cue ball, “Nacho tells me you know some dealers.”
Domingo glances over at him before nodding, “Yeah. A fair few.”
Lalo hits the cue ball and knocks an object ball into the pouch. He rises up and grabs his beer, taking a drink before walking to the other side of the table and lining up the stick again, “We need dealers,” Lalo says vaguely after hitting another object ball into a pouch.
“What are you tossing?” Domingo asks.
“Dust,” Nacho states, pushing himself off the bar.
Domingo contemplates for a moment before nodding, “I can get a crew together,” He glances between Nacho and Lalo, who seems too engrossed in the game of pool that he was currently winning to care.
“How soon?” Nacho asks.
“As soon as you need them,” He says.
“Magnifico,” Lalo booms with a beaming grin, “We need them tomorrow.” He declares as he leans against the back of the leather sofa and tips his head back to take another deep gulp of his beer before pointing the bottle towards the pool table, “Your turn, amigo.”