Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Do not fraternize with the enemy, boys.”

Those were John Avildsen’s exact words – the enemy being anyone who wasn’t Uncle Pat or Lisa or Randee. The list of people Ralph could hang out with was ridiculously short.

He was starting to think of this rule as yet another stupid thing about the film along with its title. “The Karate Kid”, what the hell, as if it was a Bruce Lee movie or something, meant only for drive-in cinemas.

At first he thought sure, how tough could that be, it’s not like he hadn’t heard of method acting before – all he had to do was act like his character would, train like Daniel LaRusso, eat like Daniel LaRusso, hang out like Daniel LaRusso, even sulk like Daniel LaRusso – and that one was easy, especially when Pat Johnson was being too hard on him and Uncle Pat. Surely he had no business hanging out with Billy Zabka or Rob Garrison or Tony O’Dell, those were the “enemy”. In addition to that, he would train four hours a day, five days a week, and after that it was non-stop rehearsing; it’s not like he had time to spend with the rest of the cast, he was the leading man. There was just too much screen time thrust upon his frail shoulders to allow him to act like a carefree college kid on vacation like those other guys did.

But as time went by it got harder and harder to just avoid them all, and not care. For most of the young cast the rehearsals felt like summer camp, all the boys were walking around shirtless – all but Ralph, he thought he was too scrawny, nothing to show off really – eating ice cream, taking polaroids, driving up with their bikes on the studio’s western sets and into the saloons on Sundays when no one was around to tell them no. Once or twice Ralph tried having a meet-up but they had different schedules, and whenever he saw Billy they were both covered in protective pads and trained until they were too sweaty and exhausted to even think about grabbing a beer later on. Oh that’s right, he could have a beer, Billy couldn’t, being eighteen and all.

It was getting pretty annoying, the lengths to which the studio went to keep them apart. Jerry Weintraub had ordered for Ralph’s trailer to be away from everyone else’s – both he and the director were adamant about that. Ralph just wasn’t supposed to be friends with the Cobras, end of discussion. Once or twice he was caught joking with Ron on set and Avildsen threw a couple of forbidding glances at them – that man didn’t like disobedience. Once during filming in the dojo, when Billy and the others were ordered by Marty to “fall in” they literally fell on the floor, one on top of the other, cackling like idiots – it was supposed to be a joke, right?

Not to John Avildsen, no, he didn’t crack a single smile; to him it was a waste of film. They jumped right up, shook the dust off their white gis and promised to never disobey him again.

Needless to say, whenever John or Jerry, the “grown ups”, had their eyes on him, Ralph obeyed. The moment they looked the other way he would sneak up on Ron or Billy or Tony and invite them to his trailer, at the far end of the studio trailer yard, and order pizza. Ron teased him for calling it “pie” (“You’re too fucking Italian, Ralph, you know that?”); he had a sweet tooth that guy, expecting to be treated to some banana cream pie or something. Ralph sure as hell enjoyed having the guys and Lisa over to his trailer even if he had to break some rules and look out the window every now and then in case John’s assistant paid them an unexpected visit.

But it was fun. For once he was allowed to relax and enjoy the company of people his age and finally catch up with Billy. Billy the Golden Boy.

They hadn’t talked much since they auditioned together. Billy didn’t leave right away that day – after the audition was over he stayed in the parking lot biting his nails, waiting for Ralph to come out and bring him the good news. Ralph had reassured him that “every Johnny was good, but he was better”. He had told the director and the producer that Billy was the only one who had managed to scare the crap out of him.

Before leaving the studio to celebrate with their families they just lingered on in the parking lot, chatting like they had known each other forever. They sure had a lot in common; they were both from Long Island and they both had strong ties with their families who stayed with them every step of the way, never allowing any room for missteps. Ralph would sometimes call his folks “control freaks”, introducing him to girls since he was a teenager, but Billy would shake his head with a forgiving smile and insist that all they did they did for their own good. Billy had never taken drugs and neither had Ralph. They loved their friends and family more than anything in the world and they agreed they’d never forget their old pals no matter where their careers took them. Billy was definitely a nice guy and that crucifix on his broad sculpted chest wasn’t just for show; he was a devout Christian boy. He went to Mass on Sundays, he even had a church band and played guitar for the children of his parish.

“You sing?” Ralph had exclaimed in utter amazement. “Hey man, I sing too and you know I also danced as a kid, and I mean I trained a lot. We should totally do a gig together some day, what do you say?”

Billy giggled folding his arms around him. “You mean like a band or something? All-singing, all-dancing? Like the Blues Brothers? Oh, wait, wait, I got it, I’ll get my shades, hold on a second.”

He tossed a gum in his mouth, put on his shades and started chewing as he sang “Everybody in the whole cell block was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock”.

Ralph burst into laughter. “We could do that, you know? We totally could. Hey, how would we call ourselves?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Billy grinned pushing the shades on his nose as he made horribly loud chewing noises with his pearly white teeth. “The Zacchio Brothers.”

Ralph laughed so hard they could hear him at the other end of the studio.

The Zacchio Brothers would never be a thing, that gig would never happen, their lives would eventually draw them apart, but for Ralph making plans that day to sing while Billy played the guitar was a fond memory.

While thinking of their audition together Ralph glanced at Billy who was standing by the trailer door, munching his pizza slice with a generous radiant smile that could light up the whole trailer, if not the whole studio. Sometimes Lisa would nudge him with her elbow and Billy would either turn to smile or he would nudge back - but Lisa did that with all the guys, right? She was such a tomboy after all, they were lucky a whole day had passed without her beating up someone. Anyone.

For a moment Ralph wondered if they were together. They looked good together, both blondes and all.

Nah, they couldn’t be; just like Ralph, Lisa wasn’t allowed to hang out with the Cobras, Avildsen’s orders; and “being together” meant a lot more than just “hanging out”, right? As for Billy, he wasn’t just the sweet-natured kid who was singing with him “Jailhouse rock” in the parking lot the day they met, Billy was King Cobra, the leader, the paragon. Lisa would never disobey John, and neither would Billy who was trained to respect and obey grown ups from a young age. The Holy Contract of Hostility wouldn’t be broken, not by these two, no way.

The pizza incident made them bond, even for a while, and Ralph thought they had finally started warming up to him against all odds. It was better than nothing.

The following day during lunch break he took his trey and looked over the tables, wondering if it would be too much for him to pay the Cobras a visit just this once. The timing was perfect, they all seemed to be happy with his pizza the day before, it was now or never. As he walked past Uncle Pat’s table he noticed the guys were in a good mood – and all of them shamelessly shirtless as ever. Two days ago they had rehearsed the blueberry pie scene in this very cafeteria and he sure enjoyed his cheek making contact with Billy’s naked stomach – although he would never admit that, not to a nice Christian boy like Billy.

As he walked over to their table he scanned their sun-kissed faces, see what they were up to. Billy didn’t see him approaching – he was engrossed in his Ace Trumps game with Rob, his favourite guy. The used cards that had ships on them were scattered all over the table; they hadn’t even touched their plates yet, they were determined that someone had to win before lunch was over, before they had to go back to filming. Ralph was sometimes jealous of Rob who seemed to hang out a lot with Billy since they went out together and everything - but this time he decided he wouldn’t let his insecurities take over.

“Hey guys!” he broke into a confident smile from ear to ear, “care if I join you?”

Billy raised his head, absent-minded and surprised to hear his voice so close to their table, staring at him underneath his golden bangs. Ron grinned happily, his round cheeks stuffed with meatballs and rice, probably thankful reminiscing yesterday’s delicious “pie”. Rob ignored him chewing his lip, trying to decide which card to draw next, and Tony dragged back his chair to make room for him.

But the one who spoke first was Chad.

“Sorry, dude, no room,” he said icily.

“What are you talking about?” Ralph blurted out, “I see two empty chairs just sitting there.”

“No room for non-Cobras,” Chad said. “John’s orders.”

Ralph shifted his weight awkwardly holding on to his trey like a protective shield. “What-what do you mean? How about yesterday? No one told us off for meeting in my trailer, right?”

“Yes but this is the cafeteria and everyone is looking,” Chad retorted. “You know the rules, man,” he added turning back to his plate and stabbed his stake with a fork.

“C’mon, Chad, let him sit with us,” Billy intervened, the best-mannered boy in that cafeteria, Ralph thought. “Just this once, John’s not here.”

“But his assistants are,” Chad insisted through gritted teeth. “And I don’t want any low-paid assistant telling on me.” He turned back to Ralph. “You may not know how things work around here but this is L.A., not New York, we do business here. And I don’t want to get fired just because I couldn’t follow one simple rule.”

“C’mon, Chad, no one’s firing you,” Billy said with a dismissive chuckle, “no one would ever fire Steve McQueen’s son.”

“Just because I’m Steve McQueen’s son doesn’t mean I should act like Steve McQueen’s son,” Chad grunted. “I’m a professional.”

Billy turned back to his plate like a beaten animal.

“No offence, Ralph,” Chad continued firmly, “but rules are rules.”

Ralph turned to look at Billy, his last hope. That guy wasn’t entitled nor was he a pussy – he sure wasn’t afraid to break some rules. But Billy took one last look at Chad and shook his head with an apologetic pout. “Sorry, Ralph,” he muttered, sad that he couldn’t help. “Another time maybe.”

Ralph couldn’t believe his ears. It’s not like he was expecting to get payback for the pizza and win their favour overnight but the basic courtesy would suffice. And Chad was full of shit about the rules, he knew that, that guy just didn’t like him. They never really talked, and when they did Chad would stare down on him or say some kind of bullshit.

“Boy, is that guy taking this method acting thing wayyyyy too seriously…” Ralph murmured to himself as he turned on his heels and motioned towards an empty table, the furthest one he could find. He didn’t like Chad anyway, he didn’t like his orange hair, he didn’t like his character’s name – what kind of a name was Dutch anyway? Oh right, it was an anagram of Chad, wow, genius, whoever thought of that, his manager? They couldn’t have Steve McQueen’s son totally change his name, could they? Whatever, man, whatever…

What happened at the cafeteria was soon forgotten, Ralph felt like he didn’t belong with them and didn’t bother them again. However he kept meeting Billy every day for training; the pads came off eventually and they started throwing kicks and punches closer to each other. It was all so perfectly choreographed that they knew they’d never hit each other and the trust between them was growing every day. Every time they were done sparring Billy would reach out his hand and pull him up.

“Good match, Ralph, good match," he said panting heavily.

Ralph hugged him with one arm and patted him on the back. “Yeah, we’re really something, aren’t we?” he joked. “But… it’s not enough, it’s like playing air guitar, man, nothing like the real thing.”

“Yeah, this isn’t real… but we look good, don’t we?” Billy added as he adjusted the belt on his white rehearsal gi.

“Sure we look good for the ladies,” Ralph agreed and pointed at Lisa who was sitting on a chair, waiting for filming to start.

“What?” Billy lifted his head, distracted by his belt that didn’t seem to stay in one place. “Ah yes, that’s right,” he said indifferently and went back to adjusting his clothes. “Hey Ralph, it was really great today, I hope I didn’t scare you at all, my foot flew too close to your nose a couple of times.”

“No, man, what are you talking about?” Ralph said and their high-five turned into a handshake, “I’d trust you with my own life, you know that.”

“Same,” Billy agreed with a warm reassuring smile and moved towards the exit.

“Hey Billy!” Ralph yelled. “I’ll be going for some shopping this evening, wanna come?”

“Nah, can’t make it, sorry…” Billy said with a shy regretful shrug. “I think I’ll just rest.”

“It’s cool, some other time,” Ralph muttered. He had already regretted asking him out.

Obviously Billy was still a Cobra at heart. “Yeap. Some other time.”

“How about you, Lisa?” Ralph turned to Elisabeth Shue. “Wanna come over and grab a burger with me?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Lisa replied, “still need to watch my figure, we haven’t filmed the beach scene yet, remember? Once we film that I’m all yours, I wanna grab the biggest cheeseburger I can get my hands on. And three buckets of fries. And oh, oh, fried chicken wings. And apple pie – oh GOD…” she said closing her eyes and shivered in pure delight.

“Those Burger King ads really rubbed off on you, didn’t they…” Ralph teased her.

“Oh no, I’m just hungry,” she laughed and sank her blonde head between her shoulders, blushing as she admitted in front of everyone her insatiable desire for junk food.

Ralph spent the rest of the day walking in and out of shops but all he managed to buy was a pair of jeans, perfume and some groceries. That was not the way he had planned to spend such a lovely evening but instead of staying in his rented house and sulking he’d rather be out walking and enjoying the warm weather of the Valley. He even sampled a new brand of hair gel and stopped in front of an Applebee’s restaurant to see his reflection in the window brushing his fingers through his rich dark hair.

Applebee’s was a fairly new franchise that he hadn’t had the chance to visit yet, and perhaps this was the time. There were some families in there eating dinner with noisy kids all around them but most of the tables were taken by teenagers, some of them with more people than they had room for, girls sitting on top of boys speaking loudly or being fed fries and onion rings.

Still there was one couple that wasn’t so loud.

Ralph’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized with excitement his two blonde co-stars, so similar in his brown Italian eyes that they looked like brother and sister. They were having a cheerful conversation – and thankfully not feeding each other fries, that would be gross, they were almost like family. Ralph felt like running inside, jumping on their shoulders when they weren’t looking and yell “ME TOO!!!” in their ears.

And then he realized they weren’t supposed to be there. Billy was supposed to be resting. Lisa was supposed to be on a diet.

Or so they said.

He froze.

It wasn’t just the big fat lie. It was Billy’s hand timidly reaching out to touch Lisa’s, the blushing on his cheeks and that big dorky smile on his face.

What followed was a million times worse than Billy feeding her fries or onion rings or fucking grapes.

It was a kiss.

There goes the Holy Contract of Hostility, Ralph thought numbly.

What a fucking.

Pathetic.

Joke.

It seemed after all that King Cobra did know how to break the rules. King Cobra was breaking one now.

He didn’t care. He didn’t give two shits about the rules.

He just wasn’t willing to break them for him.

Ralph realized he was holding his breath for way too long. He let out the air of his lungs and tried to calm down.

It wasn’t working.

A wrinkle broke between his brows as he peered through the window at Billy’s glazed loving eyes and lips glistening from the kiss. He was still holding Lisa’s hand.

Yeap, that was the guy Ralph had to face the following morning, train with him, smile at him, joke with him, trust him. Trust the Golden Boy. But there was no trust anymore. Trust was just a word, it was a lie, a joke, and words were failing him now, thoughts and fond memories from auditions were melting away, sinking into a dark whirlpool of hurt and anger. Words had no meaning. Only one was left, taunting him, gnawing at his mind, dark and painful and unforgiving.

Traitor.