Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Double fuck!” Rey dropped her backpack and large Hello Kitty tote bag with a huff. She had practically jogged across campus to get to the guest lecture on time. Holy stars, she’d made it. 

Her hazel eyes widened looking at the empty hallway.  Instead of a crowd of unruly art students, there was only one other person waiting in the hallway and he didn’t look like he was there for the same event. She dashed back to the main entrance of the Illium School of Fine Art building. Flyers for art openings, bikes for sale, campus safety hotlines. She scanned for official postings. Zip, zero. Don’t panic, don’t panic.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the display window outside the ceramics studio. Dear god! She paused to pull her hair out of the braids she always wore at work, pleased her chestnut hair fell in waves around her face. Rey straightened the neckline of her soft gray wool sweater and yanked off the children's library staff lanyard, stuffing it into the pockets of her jeans. She raced back to the door of the large lecture hall.

She whipped out her phone and texted her best friend, Rose. 

Reybees: Where r u

Rose8me: ?????

Reybees: the dickshit’s lecture

Rose8me: doesn’t start for half hour

ReyBees: well F me sideways 

With a sigh, she slid against the wall. Letting the tension roll off her, she took a moment to meditate. Be in the present. Be in the present. Be in the present. Damn, she was too hungry to think straight. With shaky fingers, she tore off the wax paper of a peanut butter sandwich and took a massive bite before she realized her water bottle had leaked in her tattered lunchbox. She opened it to find waterlogged pretzels and an orange floating in water. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She tried to carefully pour the contents into the trash but the orange fell on the floor, rolling slowly down the hall.

The stranger laughed, looking up from his pristine macbook. 

She surveyed him quickly. 30’s, expensive European-looking shoes, nice blazer, nice wide shoulders, nice everything. Damn.  "Am I amusing you?" 

"Slightly." He didn’t look up from his screen.

Rey squinted at him. He was too well dressed to be a student and she didn’t recognize him from art openings. She worked weekends at the Art Library and knew all the faculty visually, if not by name. This guy was probably a university bigwig. PR or some overfed, unnecessary branch of bureaucracy. "Are you here to see this a-hole?" 

He continued to type. "I am."

She guessed he was only here because his favorite Starbucks was too crowded.  "Have you heard about his work?"

"Yes, I have." He stretched a long arm to grab her orange. "Still want this?” He rolled it back to her.

She pursed her lips, trying to decide. She was starving. The food was supposed to last her until tomorrow morning. She had planned to save the orange for breakfast. "Sure." 

He paused his work, as though remembering something. He reached into his black Prada nylon messenger bag.  After a moment, he pulled out 2 Cliff protein bars, tossing them to her. "Peace offering?"

Her stomach lurched. "Are they vegan?"

He shrugged and looked back down at his screen. "Check the wrapper."

She frowned at the wrapper before taking a bite. "Thank you."

The lecture hall door opened and Hux, her department head, peaked out. "Hi Rey. Oh hey there, Solo, I didn’t realize you were already here. Come in and get settled." 

His dark eyes flashed to her for only a moment before he stood up and strode purposefully inside. 

Rey inhaled a third of a protein bar and tucked the rest in her tote bag. Her stomach clutched. She took a long sip of water from her old Gatorade bottle. Over time, she had learned to eat slowly, even when she was starving. The aching pain behind her eyes dissipated. She would try to dry out the sandwich and pretzels on the radiator.

☾

Her face lit up when her friends, Rose and Finn came in, arguing about their thesis show. Finn had taken the first slot in the gallery schedule but Rose was advocating for them to show together. Rose had long-term plans to for their off again, on again relationship.

Rey hugged them as though they hadn't spend their entire morning together in an endless critique. "Do you think there will be food?"

"It's lecture, Rey. Not an opening," Rose reminded her.

Finn sighed in simple irritation. "Hux requires his class to attend. It's gonna be packed." 

"Oh my god, I talked to him." Rey whispered.

Rose scanned the hallways. "Where is Solo? Is he, like, totally handsome?"

Finn bristled, standing a little taller. Even though they were not currently defining themselves as a couple, he still expected to be the center of Rose's universe. "He’s a monster, Rose. He's closing his uncle’s art gallery."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Galleries aren’t meant to last, dummy."

"You sound like Hux," Rey muttered. 

Poe arrived, bike helmet in hand. "They’re interviewing Solo for the painting job." 

"He’s not even a painter!" Finn complained.

Rey rolled her orange between her palms. "I’ll quit school if they hire him."

The doors to the lecture hall opened. Rey squinted. It seemed darker than usual inside.

Chapter Text

☾

Rey sunk into the comfortable seats of the lecture hall, stuffing her bags under the seat. It was strange to see Ben Solo from a distance. He was taller than she expected, physically imposing. His appearance was artfully rumpled; from his mane of dark hair to the crooked cuff of his black jeans. He stood on the side of the stage talking to Hux, leaning on podium.

In all the years Rey been at Illum University, she'd never seen Hux so animated. Were they laughing? Hux didn't laugh. She let herself get lost in watching their movements. Ben Solo's dark grey t-shirt skimmed over his wide chest. She licked her lips, wondering what he would look like in the rain. To her horror, he paused his conversation, turning toward her abruptly. He caught her eyes and she felt her cheeks flush crimson. 

Great. The asshole caught her staring. It didn’t matter. He was probably used to starstruck art students fawning over him. 

She wrestled her notebook out of her backpack, missing Hux's introduction of Ben Solo. Did he say they'd gone to school together? Undergrad? Grad school? Was it possible that they were friends? She could have sworn Hux said closest friend in his snarky voice. She tried and failed to imagine them drinking beers together.

Ben didn't react to the lack of applause at the introduction and immediately began showing slides, describing his early artwork from Carnegie Mellon. His voice was low and even. There was a hollowness to it that almost seemed like he was speaking from inside a mask. His work reminded Rey of her own undergrad work. Figurative, generic, optimistic. She’d been a totally different person then.

His work gradually shifted to sculptural. There were structures  made of delicate rice paper, followed by videos of the same sculptures on fire. Very Burning Man. Typical.

Rey dug her nails into her palms, preparing for the flood of anger to overload her senses. She palmed her orange, in anticipation of seeing the images she had grown to hate. But the familiar images didn’t come. Instead, the screen was filled with large paper cathedrals installed on bridges, in rivers and streams. They were actually lovely. His low voice quietly described the temporary structures installed on borders between nations. The churches had offered comfort or temporary sanctuary for refugees passing over borders. He continued to show images of a series bridges he’d built in Brest, Belarus. He had scrawled the words Nowhere is not a place on the first bridge. Passers on the bridge had been encouraged to add words of their own. Within weeks the bridges were covered in graffiti in different languages. Eventually, the word not was scraped away. Ben had taken this alteration to heart, naming the series of installations Nowhere Must Be a Place.

Rey raised her hand without meaning to. She looked up at her hand as though it belonged to someone else.

Ben looked up, startled from his presentation.

Hux stood up and looked out into the crowd. "We are not accepting any questions at this time, Rey." 

Ben turned to him. "It’s OK."

He looked at Rey with a strange expression. "Go ahead. Ask." 

Rey swallowed hard. She had never meant to raise her hand but she felt a strange compulsion to talk to this man. "Why - why Belarus?"

His lips curved slightly. It wasn't quite a smile. "Honestly? Because they said yes."

Rey's hand went up again. What was wrong with her? "But what about -"

Ben interrupted her. "I know what you’re going to say and you’re right; the Lukashenko regime is repressive. Working there could be viewed as an endorsement of their politics. But their government is not conducive to bringing in artists to create permanent art works but the bridges were built under the guise of religious pilgrimage. We were able to source local materials and do the prefabrication in Warsaw and Lublin. We worked with the university of Belarus to find locations that would help the most people." He paused, as though remembering where he was. "Did I address your question?"

Rey cleared her throat. Her voice didn’t sound like her own. "I was going to ask why you didn’t do this work on US borders?"

"Oh, because they said no. Both the US Border Patrol and Homeland Security said no." His hand twitched, slightly reaching in her direction. "I wish they had said yes."

"Solo! Are you going to talk about it?" A voice barked from the back of the room. Rey strained her neck to see Poe, who had taken a seat in the back row.

Ben peered out into the audience, looking for the source of the voice. "Probably?"

An object launched through the air, sailing past the podium. Ben caught it with his left hand. A tomato.

"You missed." Ben smiled stiffly as he stared out into the sea of angry faces. 

Hux seemed slightly amused but set his icy glare on stun. "We will not tolerate a mob mentality. Mr. Solo is our guest." 

Ben nodded. "Maybe I'll skip ahead to the main event." He scrolled through dozens of images, stopping on an image of an elegant black box. "The Gift Set." The room was suddenly silent. "Who wants to ask the first question?"

"How did it feel when your uncle denounced you?" Rey recognized Poe's loud, unapologetic voice.

Ben's spine straightened. "Are you referring to my Uncle Luke's TedTalk or his posthumously released op-ed?" Ben shifted his weight. "I guess it’s the same answer for both: It was unexpected but I probably should have seen it coming."

Rey raised her hand and he pivoted back toward her.

"Yes, Rey?"

She was momentarily frozen by hearing Ben say her name. "How could you do that to his artwork?"

"You’re wearing a shirt with Luke’s art on it." Ben's voice was playful, teasing. "Did you buy that at Target? Amazon?"

"The thrift store."

A small smile shifted over his features. "Good answer. To address your question: how I could cut up my Uncle’s painting? He had given it to me as a gift. It was mine."

He brought up an image of the artwork in question titled twelve boxes. "In case you are not familiar with the work or are waiting for the right moment to throw your orange; for my graduate thesis show, I cut a famous artwork into twelve pieces and sold them separately. There was also a plan to burn any portion that didn’t sell. It so happened that my contingency plan was unnecessary as the set sold on opening night. I intended the work to address ownership of artwork, the sanctity of artistic property and the rights of an artist after work is sold. The role of a collector is expected to be a true custodian of artwork but in reality, they have the same rights of ownership as the buyer of a vintage rolls Royce or a couture dress."

The crowd was silent. Ben moved on to show the original artwork: a beautifully crafted image of two men standing in front of matching Buddhist temples. One figure glowed white, one heavy with shadows. Rey knew from her art history class that the painting had been at the center of its own controversy. It depicted Ben's Uncle in Christ-like poses, giving the middle finger. Beyond that gesture, the painting had become famous because it had been painted on an official flag of Vatican City. The painting had been denounced by two different popes. 

"The painting, called The New Temple, had been a gift from my famous uncle, Luke Skywalker. He had given it to me as a gift for my high school graduation." Ben held both hands up as though joking. "I know, most uncles only give gift cards."

The crowd was silent. Ben continued, "From a legal perspective, the work belonged to me so it was well within my right to destroy it."

One of Rey’s studio teachers, an adjunct named Peli Motto, raised her hand. "I just - I can’t believe you did this to your Uncle’s Art. It’s only one of two copies."  

Ben nodded. "Exactly. One is enough."

Peli's hand stayed up. "What - what would your mother think of your work?"

"I think there is ample documentation of my mother’s opinion of my work." Ben’s voice broke unexpectedly. 

Chapter Text

Rey noticed a slight slump Ben’s posture. His hand gripped the edge of the podium. 

Hux slipped beside Ben, whispering in his ear. He slapped Ben on the shoulder and they exchanged a look that seemed oddly comforting. Rey and Rose exchanged their own glance; Hux was well known for his utter indifference toward his students and coworkers. He routinely dismissed undergrads from critiques, citing their lack of ‘intellectual preparation’.

“For those of you unfamiliar with Illium’s history, Ben’s mother Leia Organa ran the reknown Resistance Gallery for over 20 years. She was the first to show Ann Hamilton and Allen Rath. She also graced the halls of Illium University, teaching contemporary art history seminars as an adjunct instructor.” 

Ben nodded appreciatively. He acknowledged another raised hand in the crowd.

Rey recognized the voice of her art history professor, Amilyn Holdo. “Were you arrested for destroying your Uncle’s work?”

“No. I wasn’t arrested until my 26 birthday. My Uncle Luke had me charged me violation of the Visual Artist Rights act. These laws are intended to prevent the owners of artwork from modifying or destroying it.”

Rey frantically typed in Ben Solo + Arrest into her phone. He looked frighteningly gaunt, being escorted by police in handcuffs from the Brooklyn Museum.

Ben’s voice took on an icy tone. “In turn, I sued him for using pictures of me in his lecture series at CalArts.”

Hux leaned into the microphone. “Many states, including California, have “right of publicity” laws that limit the way a person's image can be used for commercial purposes. California Civil Code makes it illegal to use a photo of another person for marketing purposes without permission.”

"My uncle informally charged me with plagiarism which made the cover of ArtForum. After that, I was invited to show at the Drawing Center and then David Zwirner contacted me. The rest is history.

“Art history.” Hux interjected with a snorting laugh.

Rey wondered if Hux and Ben had gotten high before the lecture. She had never seen Hux act like this. He was almost giddy. "Zwirner represents you in New York, London, Hong Kong, and Paris, right?"

"Yes, they take very good care of my work."

"Unlike how you took care of your Uncle's work!" Poe's angry voice was greeted with applause. "What about your father, Solo? Do you have a slide about that one? That made you pretty famous too. You were on CNN for that!"

Ben looked stunned. His dark eyes shifted down. He seemed to deflate and sank down on in the chair next to Hux. Ben leaned over and put his head between his knees. Still miked, she could hear him breathing deeply. Despite herself, she felt a tinge of heartache watching him.

When he stood up, his face seemed different as though wooden. His low soft voice seemed boyish. "My - my father was a great man. He worked for NASA, he was a pilot. And - and ..." Ben's voice trailed off, lost in thought. "I had very selfishly disappeared after my uncle’s TedTalk. Like every rich kid on the planet, I went to Portofino. My Dad shouldn’t been traveling in that weather. It was - I don’t have anything more to say than it was my fault. I killed him. I killed my Father." 

He unclipped the microphone and handed it to Hux. 

Ben stretched out his wide arms. "Does anyone else have anything else to throw?" His unamplified voice echoed in the auditorium. His eyes quickly passed over Rey’s. "An orange? Look I’m an easy target."

Rey couldn't move a muscle but she sensed her classmates had taken out their phones to document the reserved artist having a meltdown.  

Hux glared in her general direction before steering Ben Solo out of the lecture hall. On screen, the image remained of Luke Skywalker's famous New Temple painting in all it's original glory.

Chapter Text

It was starting to snow. She watched large flakes swirl and float harmlessly, glowing in the campus security lights. Rey didn’t notice the disheveled figure outside the ceramics studio. She walked right past Ben Solo, weighed down by her Hello Kitty tote bag and massive backpack. She felt a presence before she saw him sitting on a low bench, exhaling smoke. 

“There’s no smoking on campus,” she spoke without thinking.

Ben Solo looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Hux is bad influence,” he mumbled as he put out his cigarette. 

She paused. He was a mess; dark hair plastered to his forehead. Had it rained? “Are you ok?”

“Um. I don’t remember where I parked.” He looked up sheepishly. “I don’t even remember what the rental car looked like. I was stressed about being late and the flight…” his voice trailed off.

She held out her hand. “Let me see your keys.” She instinctively shielded him from the snow. “Ford? This isn’t going to be hard. We just need to find a Ford rental. You parked in the library garage?

He nodded, standing up slowly. She started toward the parking garage and he fell in step with her, matching her determined pace.

She pointed to the steps. “Did you park above ground or below?”

He shrugged, looking up at the 7 levels. “I don’t remember- wait it was facing the park.” 

☾

5 minutes later they stood in front of a massive Ford Explorer.

“Can I give you a ride, Rey?”

“I’m fine.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“I did like some of your artwork.” Her eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light. “Your bridge project was pretty cool. I thought you were a one trick pony.” 

“I’ll always be known for my worst artwork.”

“That should have been the title of your lecture.” The strap of her tote slipped and a purple bra, a pair of well worn combat boots, and tube of toothpaste fell to the ground.

”Let me give you a ride." He helped her pick up her things. "Here, I’ll even send a picture to Hux." He held out the phone to take a selfie and she grinned in the picture without meaning to. "Now if I don’t make it home, he’ll know you’ve absconded with me locked away in the truck."

She laughed, "I’m going to text my friend just in case. "

"It is a pretty nice trunk." Ben started the car and watched as she wedged her bags into the floor at her feet. 

"I’m going to the Falcon. It’s the foundry, like welding and- "

He interrupted her. "I remember it well. Takodana Avenue. I went to Illum my Freshman year." 

"You did?!" Rey couldn't hide her surprise. 

"Huxster and I were roommates."

"No fucking way!" Rey practically shrieked. So much for being cool.

"I’ve known him since high school."

They pulled into the parking lot of the Falcon Foundry but the building was dark.

"Fuck!"

She ran out and yanked on the locked door. A second later, she was back to the warmth of the car. "Damnit. It’s never closed. Um, could you please take me back to the art studio? Or do you need to be somewhere?"

He turned the car around. "There was supposed to be an artist’s dinner tonight but no one wanted to go."

She coughed back a laugh. "Why do you think that is, Ben Solo?"

Ben couldn't keep a straight face. "Hux said that he was sure that it’s the weather." 

"Or no one wants to be seen with you?"

He turned to her, his open expression surprised her. He seemed almost pleasant. "Would you like to get dinner?" 

She burst out laughing. "I don’t want to be seen with you!"

He pretended to be shocked, a hand over his heart. "Rey, you don’t seem like the type of person guided by the opinion of others."

"I’m not but I still don’t want to have dinner with you."

Ben stopped at a traffic light. Their breath was fogging the windshield and he twirled dials to turn on the defrost. “Why aren’t you afraid of me? Why aren’t you afraid to be in a car with a stranger?”

She looked out the window. “I can usually take care of myself.”

“And when you can’t?”

“I avoid those situations." She looked him over from head to toe. "I don’t feel unsafe with you.”

He finally turned to look at her. “I told an entire auditorium of people that I killed my father.”

She looked at her own hands. “People who tell you that they’re awesome- awesome parents or awesome at their job; those are the scary ones.” She stole a glance at him.

“Hux says you’re in grad school.”

"Um." Her heart fluttered. Why did she care that he’d asked about her?

Ben seemed suddenly hesitant.“Hux said that you’re double majoring in library science.” 

She was surprised that her aloof professor remembered. “Um, yeah. MLIS/MA Art History Library science and Fine Art”

“Wow.” Ben turned into the street near the school. Back where they’d started. 

Rey found herself wishing the drive could have been longer. “I thought I should try to stay in school as long as possible.” 

“Good plan.” He parked the car and turned to look at her fully. She hadn’t noticed his lips before. His eyes scanned her face, as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. “How old are you?”

“25. How old are you?” Why was she asking this? She didn’t care how old he was. 

“31.” He smiled and his entire face transformed. He was actually handsome. “I don’t know if Hux told you but I’m doing studio visits tomorrow.”

“I know all about it.” Rey opened the door to the cold night. “Hux told us it’s required.”

His grin returned. Was she smiling back? What was wrong with her?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rey.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ben Solo. Thank you for the ride.”

As he drove away, he noticed that something had fallen out of her totebag. He unrolled a pair of socks. It was a smiley face pattern with holes in the heels.

Chapter Text

Rey sat in her studio, watching the snow falling. It was useless snow; not enough to sled at the park with grocery store bourbon. Not enough to cancel this studio visit with Ben Solo. Gray skies loomed in the distance but the steady snow melted as it met the earth. She ate her orange and enjoyed the silence that came with snow.

She was sketching Ben. Not as he appeared in the flier Hux had sent out, but the Ben Solo from the night before. Confused, exhausted looking. His face was interesting to draw; long nose, disorderly hair, full mouth. She started over on a new page, attempting his profile. She had a hard time remembering what his eyes looked like. Dark. She knew they were dark.

She closed her sketchbook and dug her phone out of the pocket of her navy blue velvet blazer. She’d come straight her weekend job at the Art Library. Her feet ached and she longed to unroll her sleeping bag and stretch out on the battered couch. Where the hell was everyone? 

Reybees: Why am i the only one here?

Rose8me: i didn’t sign up. He’s 2 scary

Reybees: Hux said it was mandatory

Finn: I didn’t sign up. Fuck that guy. 

Reybees: mandatory as in For a grade

Finn: D’s get degrees

Rose8me: Finn and i watched a crit he did at CalArts. Brutal.

Finn: Not up for humiliation 

Reybees: It didn’t bother you when Hux said your sculpture looked like it belonged in the discount aisle at IKEA 

Finn: Nope

Reybees: Poe? 

Kdel: He was the one who threw the tomato

PoePoe: Im scared of him

Reybees: !

Reybees: !

Rose8me: Sorry

Reybees: OMG he’s here. I hate you all

Ben peaked into her studio. He was wearing a black suit. A perfectly tailored suit with an air of wealth that she had no way of defining. It looked like he’d come from an awards show. At least she didn’t feel overdressed. 

☾

They stood in front of large tastefully framed photographs. 

He cleared his throat. “This is your thesis work?”

“I wanted to um, do the framing early.” She waited for him to react. In each photo, Rey was interacting with a different older man. One photo featured her dancing on a table, in another picture she wore cat ears and a collar around her neck. “Each image tells a story of a relationship.” 

“So you put out an ad, like Craigslist?”

“I went on tinder. I haven’t framed the didactic panels. I set up rules:  I only chose guys I was repelled by. I made sure they agreed to having the dates documented.”

He nodded. “All men?”

“Yes. Men who really wanted to spend time with someone and build a relationship. I wanted to find what that connection meant to them.” Rey knew she sounded rehearsed but she had gone over the work with her thesis committee endlessly. 

Ben huffed out air. “They’re good photos; well composed.”

“Thank you?” It didn’t seem like a compliment. She felt her neck getting splotchy from nerves. This didn’t feel like it wasn’t going well.

“You look cute in every picture.”

Now she was certain that he wasn’t complimenting her. Cute wasn’t good.

“What do the men think?”

“I let them believe that we are starting a relationship. Sometimes they want to dance or cosplay or watch tv.” She pointed to an image of a man, dressed in as Iron Man. She was in the background, frosting a plate of cupcakes.

“And as the relationships progressed?”

Rey’s leveled her gaze at Ben. “I can handle myself in most situations.”

He dramatically turned his back on the photos. “I don’t like this project.”

“You don’t like feminest art?”

“I am a huge supporter of feminist art but I don’t think that’s what this is.” 

She crossed her arms defensively. “I’m a female and I'm making art.”

“That doesn’t make it feminist art. Lack of innovation can’t be defended by cultural gatekeeping.”

Rey was speechless. 

Ben’s eyes bore into her. “Actually, I think your artwork is offensive.”

“What?”

Ben's hands moved quickly, his gestures were erratic. “To start with, it’s derivative;  Laurel Nakadate made similar work 15 years ago.”

Rey frowned. “I don’t know who that is.” 

“Replace tinder with Craigslist and you’re making the same work. She made video work which was more compelling, more complex. Cute girl, Strange men, hanging out on their terms, documenting.”

“I didn’t copy her; I’ve never heard of her.” Rey felt a defensive whine growing in her voice.

“You need a teacher.”

“I have teachers.”

“I can’t believe Hux is OK with this.”

He hasn’t seen this yet. “Amilyn Holdo liked it. And um Akbar.”

“They're more interested in composting and acupuncture than contemporary art.” 

Rey pressed her lips together, trying to hold her emotions in check. “That’s not very nice.”

“Secondly, I personally don’t care for people who put themselves in physical danger for their art. There’s a long history of performance artists who self harm in performance art. Burden, Marina Abramovic, Carlos Martiel. I don’t see it as brave, not anymore. It’s almost expected.”

“Um.” She braced herself against the wall. 

“You chose to document your time with men that you obviously think are unattractive as performance art?” Ben’s tone of voice was matter of fact.

“I - I never said I think they’re unattractive.

“Oh, that’s right, you said repellent.”

“I became friends with them. They’re going to be invited to my opening.”

“That’s so generous of you.”

“What are -“

He pointed a finger at her. “You choose overweight, older, strange looking men and let them think they are your friends so you can take pictures that basically make fun of them.”

“I’m not making fun of them-“ Rey’s eyes strayed uncomfortably to a photo of her dressed as Batgirl. She had cropped out her date’s face, leaving his large hairy stomach and painfully obvious erection in profile. 

“What would this series of image look like if you were a man? You go through a dating sites and choose older heavyset women and photograph dancing with them. Making sure you look cute in every picture.”

Rey fell silent. She felt stupid. “You’re right.”

Ben turned to her in surprise. “Just like that? You’re not going to argue with me?”

She turned toward the window. She didn’t want him to see her lips trembling.

She watched him in the reflection of the window. His hands raked through his hair in agitation. She watched the snowflakes tumbling down. It was supposed to be getting worse.

After a long pause, his voice seemed different. The hollow distance was gone. “Did you know that you’re the only person who signed up for a studio visit with me?”

She shrugged. “Hux sent out an email; he said it was required.”

“I think you are the only one who signed up for a studio visit for the exact same reason that you made this artwork. You wanted to show people that you aren’t intimidated by big scary men. We are not your big bad wolf. Which means, there’s something else scarier out there.” 

“Are you done talking?” She continued to watch him in the window.

He looked through her older work, stacked in the corner. “What are these?” He asked.

“Nothing. Just Commercial work. Ash paintings.” She forced herself to face him. “They shouldn’t be here. I get commissions to paint portraits using cremation ashes.”

He paused in a black and white painting of a cat carrying a bird in its mouth.

“They’re interesting.” 

“Not really. They're mostly pet portraits. Totally lame.”

His strange, open expression was back and she found herself unable to break eye contact.

He turned to a small painting of a chihuahua seated atop a stepping stool. “Are you familiar with Zhang Huan’s ash paintings?”

“I don’t know his work.” 

“You do. C’mon, he’s the Chinese artist in the Meat suit? I’m going remind Hux that he owes you an education.” He sat down on the battered studio couch and typed into his phone. She reluctantly sat down beside him. He carefully held out his phone for her to see. “He was influenced by Jean-Francois Millet’s portrayal of ordinary people doing ordinary things. Huan started out making these cool ash cubes which paid homage to the freestanding ’boxes’ of Minimalist sculptor Donald Judd. With no agent to bind the ash, the edges and corners quickly crumble, betraying the fragility of the media.”

Rey gaped, Unable to respond. Did people really talk like this?

Ben scrolled through more pictures of images of the artist standing over massive canvases. “He started making paintings using ash gathered from temples. He’s painting with prayer offerings.” The paintings were soft looking portraits of soldiers, workers. 

“Wow.” 

“What’s this?” He picked up a jar in the corner of her studio. 

“It’s polite to ask permission before touching other people’s things.”

He handed the jar back in a sweeping gesture. 

“They’re the leftover ashes from portraits. I don’t always use them all and it seemed wrong to dump them out.”

His posture shifted as he pulled a flier of Leia Organa’s gallery off her studio wall. She stopped herself from snapping at him, he cradled it carefully. There was a portrait of Leia on the back. Even in the black and white image, her warmth shone through.

Rey followed his gaze. “I was sorry to hear about your mother. Were you close?”

“We didn’t speak for years. She hated what I was doing. She hated what my artwork turned Luke into.”

“I met your Mom a couple times. She was really nice about inviting students to all of her openings. We got to hang out and meet artists. Dress up, drink wine.”

“Cheese and salami trays; not a lot for vegans.”

“She always had grapes and baby gerkins.” She smiled faintly at his confusion. “Little pickles.”

“I like those too.”

His Apple Watch beeped and he excused himself to call Hux. 

Rey sat down on the ratty studio couch, trying to process their conversion. Instead, she returned to her sketch of Ben. She darkened the eyes, making them seem less hollow. Then she added lightning behind him. He was better suited for a storm.

Chapter Text

Ben and Hux stood by the window of Dex’s Bistro. Snow fell steadily as they watched the crowded street. Young couples spilled out of bars, turning their faces up to greet the snowflakes.

"Can you believe we were ever that young?" Hux's voice had a weary edge to it.

Ben sipped a glass of bourbon chilled by a comically large, square ice cube. Hux gulped at his gin and soda before his wife, Phasma, breezed in behind him and put her manicured hand over his. Her blood red nails glimmered in the low light.

"Slow down, Huxy," she said tersely. She pried the glass out his hands and took a sip.

Ben watched in amusement as Hux fought to keep a scowl off his face. Phasma smoothed the snow from her short blond bob before she turned her blinding smile on Ben.

"Hux told me your lecture was a bit rough. Someone actually threw a tomato?"

He nodded. "I haven’t had a crowd like that in awhile." 

Hux sneered at no one in particular. "It’s the Midwest, what do you expect? We’re behind the times."

Ben watched with concern as an older woman slipped in the snow outside. Her well bundled companion steadied her arm. "I expected some outrage. I’m on my Mother's turf."

"Your Mother’s legacy means a lot to people here." Phasma went to dump her coat at their table. 

"How were the studio visits today?" Hux asked.

"Visit. I only had one person sign up: Rey Niima."

☾

Rey stood at the kitchen counter, removing spaghetti from the Foodbank packaging and putting it on a paper towel. 

Rose watched her, sipping a glass of Chardonnay. “Don’t worry about that Rey. No one cares where it came from; it’s spaghetti. The sauce is what counts.” Rose pulled tomatoes from her refrigerator, lining them up on the wooden chopping board for execution. She pulled the basil leaves off their stems, inspecting each rounded leaf.

Rey robotically stirred the thinly sliced onions and garlic as they sizzled in the olive oil, making sure they didn’t cook too fast. “Nothing smells worse than burnt garlic.”

“What’s wrong?’ Rose put a hand on Rey’s shoulder.

Rey paused and turned to her friend, suddenly undone. She stifled a sob. 

“Oh no, something is wrong!”

Tears filled Rey's eyes. “My artwork is total shit.”

“No, no, no. It isn’t.” Rose turned off the burner and pulled her friend into a tight hug. 

Rey shuddered, comforted by Rose's warm embrace. 

"Oh my god, what did that monster say to you?"

"That monster was right. It’s stupid." Rey clamped a hand over her mouth and swallowed a sob as she heard the clammer of the front door opening. 

Finn and Poe barged in the front door and Rose intercepted them before they reached the kitchen. "Hey, can you guys run out and grab some Prosecco? And orange juice?" She shoved a $20 in Finn's hand with a squeeze.

Finn rezipped his down puffer. "Prosecco? Sure. Um, isn’t that ham?"

"It's booze." Poe corrected him with a toothy grin. 

Rose found Rey curled up on her couch. She resisted the urge to yank away the quilt that Finn's Nana had recently given her. Instead, she handed Rey a glass of wine.

"It will take them at least an hour to find Prosecco." Rose lit a lavender scented candle and sat down next to her friend. "Now tell me what happened."

Tears ran down Rey's cheeks. "I’m so stupid, Rose. I thought I was so original but I’m nothing." 

☾

"Rey isn’t original but she’s interesting. I hate that kind of artwork." Ben mused as they watched waiters clear away plates. They had endured a long dinner with the department heads of the university. There had been lots of toasts, lots of stories about Illium politics. "She’s smart and talented but I didn’t like her work. I’m over artists putting themselves in danger or all that endurance shit."

Hux frowned. "Since when? You were always jizzing in your pants over Ann Hamiliton burning out words in a book for 18 thousand years." 

"Must you be so unpleasant?"

"I’m starving!" Hux hissed under his breath. "This no carbs thing is killing me."

Ben rotated his giant ice cube in its small glass. "How are the other grad students?"

"No, no, no. You are not casually dropping the subject. You sent me a picture of you and Rey Niima being all cute -" Hux's voice faded off as he stared longingly at a waiter passing with a plate of cannoli.

Ben followed Hux’s eyes. "I’ll give you a ravioli if you tell me about Rey."

Hux craned his neck, looking for his wife. “Can she see us?”

"No, her back is to us; she's talking to Pryde." Ben held up a plump ravioli on a fork.

Hux's eyes grew wide. "More sauce. Come on."

Ben laughed as he fed Hux, popping his fork into Hux’s open mouth. "I feel like a mother bird."

Hux rolled his eyes in pleasure, chewing rapidly. "More?"

Ben bit back a chuckle. "You’re gonna get sick from the cheese."

"Rey Niima did her undergrad and grad here. 5 years non-stop, always takes summer classes. Straight A’s. More sauce!"

Ben fed Hux his last ravioli. "I’ll order you a tiramisu if you tell me more."

"No." Hux wiped his mouth discreetly. "I’ll tell you more if you watch the boys tomorrow."

"Babysitting? Wait - how old are they now?"

Hux gave him a withering look. "Ben, you’re Cosimo’s godfather. You could at least pretend to care."

Ben shook his head in embarrassment. "OK. OK. Let me think - Cosimo is 9. You found out on your 22 birthday."

"That was a fucker of a night."

"What time do you want me at your house?" 

"You need to be there at 6. I’m meeting with the department to hammer out your teaching contract. You’ll be able to sign before you leave on Tuesday."

"Oof. Tuesday?" Ben couldn't believe he was supposed to leave so soon.

☾

“What the hell am I going to do? Rey rested her head against the back of the old couch. “I spent the last 3 months making that series of photos and I hated it. I don’t even like looking at them.”

“You could recontextualize your work. Make the pictures be about your motivations, not the men.” Finn offered helpfully. 

Poe passed her a mimosa. “Do you remember that book by Austin Kleon?”

Rey took a sip. “Nope.”

“It was on Hux’s suggested reading list for incoming grad students. You must have read it.” Poe had always been a terrible student but he read voraciously. 

“How do you remember this stuff and not remember to show up for midterms?” Rose murmured, her head resting on Finn’s shoulder.

“Steal Like an Artist. It’s pretty approachable content. Anyway, he says ‘Don't wait until you know who you are to get started.’

Rey admired Poe’s encyclopedic memory. He was able to pull quotes out of thin air, verbatim.  

“My show is in less than 6 weeks,” Rey said softly.

“Kleon also says to make the work you want to see,” Poe said. “So the question is, what kind of art do you want to see?”

☾

Ben sat with Phasma as various department heads mingled, preparing to leave. She checked her lipstick in the reflection of a steak knife as Ben watched the snow fall. "I still haven’t gone inside Leia’s house."

Phasma turned to him in astonishment. "What? Isn’t that why you came?"

Ben avoided eye contact. "I came for the interview."

Hux slithered up behind his wife. "Like Solo wasn’t going to get the job that was specifically created for him."

Ben squinted at Phasma's blazer. "Are you wearing a gun?"

"I didn’t have time to change; of course I’m wearing a gun."

Hux frowned. "Dear God Phas, this is a dinner party."

Plasma sniffed at him. "You smell like you’ve been eating dairy. Ben, did you give him cheesecake? You know he gets gas." 

"I’m going to get another drink." Hux pointedly turned to Ben. "Do you want one?"

"No, I’m OK." 

Hux skulked to the bar, striking up an animated conversation with Amilyn Holdo. Ben watched as the Art History professor flipped her hair flirtatiously. Hux looked over in their direction with a frown before returning to his conversation.

"He didn’t even ask if I wanted a drink." Phasma pouted. "Do you think I should have changed?" 

Ben shrugged. "You’re a bailiff Phas; it’s part of your job."

She sighed heavily and set down her gin and tonic. "Can you give me a ride home? Hux is sucking up to Tarkin, the vice provost or whatever the hell he is. He's driving that dickhead all the way out to Eriadu in the snow. Phasma checked her purse for her housekeys. "Ben, I'm so tired of this day. I'm so tired of being me."

He smiled at his best friend’s wife. "Me too. Come on, let’s get you home."

Phasma’s lip quivered as she glanced back at Hux, sitting alone at the bar. "I think he hates me."

Chapter Text

It was Rose’s second week on the job and the library's outdated check out system still confused her. "How do we delete overdue fines again? Lupita has about 17 books out." She squinted. "You said that was OK, right?"

"Officially, no." Rey looked around, making sure they were alone. The teen section of the Illium Library was all but deserted on Sunday mornings. "Unofficially, I've never enforced a late fee in the 9 years I've worked here. If a kid brings a book back, all is forgiven."

"What are these titles?" Rose frowned at the screen.

"Un Palais d'épines et de roses ; A Court of Thorns and Roses. High fantasy." Rey reached over Rose to type in the override in code. "We’re getting a lot of families who speak French at home. Senegalese is one of our fastest growing populations." Lupita was one of Rey’s favorites among the library’s regular after school crowd. To encourage student involvement, Rey encouraged students to write book reviews and recommendations. Lupita always had at least one review on the display table.

"Are you going to the Artist Workshop?" Rey tried her best to sound casual.

"Are you?!" Rose stared in disbelief. "After what he said to you yesterday, I can't believe that you want to go fingerpaint with that asshat?"

Rey checked her school email on her phone. "When Hux says that we have to attend stuff, why am I the only one who takes him seriously?"

"You like this Solo guy, don’t you?" Rose scanned a stack of Rick Roirdan books and put them on the shelving cart.

"No." 

"That was the most half hearted no."

"Ben’s work is interesting." Rey tried to sound nonchalant 

"Hmmph, we're first name basis now? Oh my god, is that why you're wearing perfume? Are you, like, into big crazy men?"

"Yes, definitely. You've discovered my secret. I have a type" Rey deadpanned. 

Rose laughed but she was worried about her friend. "Let’s make a list of his pros and cons." She ticked off a list on her fingers. "Pros: rich, successful, not ugly." 

Rey turned away before Rose could see her flush. "Looking at him is not a hardship." 

"Cons: seems unstable, is BFF's with Hux and he has an arrest record."

Rey quickly scooped up a stack of books from the returns without making eye contact. "We need to start scanning these. I need to leave soon."

☾

Ben let himself into the painting studios. The lock had been broken since he had been in undergrad. The lights were off and Ben enjoyed the silence for a heartbeat before his phone buzzed, alerting him to a Facetime call from Hux. 

"Look what just came in the mail!" Hux grinned as he tore into an Amazon envelope.

"I told you not to buy that. I've got one at the hotel." Ben stared at the book cover.

"Will you autograph it, Mr. Solo?" Hux dramatically flipped through the limited edition book of Ben’s drawings titled A Measure of Security Moments: Blood Works of Ben Solo. "Did you make it to your mom’s house?"

"No."

Hux held up the book to show his wife. Phasma cringed when she saw the cover. Hux turned his phone so Ben could see her expression.

"Are those his blood paintings?" She asked, trying to arrange her face into a pleasant smile.

"Yes and they’re bloody good." 

Ben's voice dropped. "Don’t make fun of me, Hux."

"I’m not making fun of you; I’m quite fond of this series. I have to keep mine at the office because a certain someone thinks they might upset our brutal Fortnite obsessed children." 

Phasma rolled her eyes at her husband’s smug smile before handing him the torn envelope from the floor.

Hux watched as Ben seemed to move rapidly through a familiar space. "Where are you?'

"Masturbating furiously in the front window of Starbucks." 

"By any chance are you at the graduate studio, snooping around?"

Ben's image continued to move. "Is it really snooping when there are no doors?"

"Yes."

"Tell me more about Rey." Ben knew Hux wouldn’t divulge much. "Is she seeing anyone?"

"How on earth would I know that?"

"Helpful. Does she like boys or girls?"

"Boys, I believe. Honestly Ben, I hate it when you get like this." 

"Like what?" 

"Surly. Fixated. You’re using Rey as an excuse to avoid going to your mother’s house. This is exactly like your obsession with trying to buy Ambien when we were in Tijuana."

"I’m interested in knowing more about her. That doesn’t mean I’m fixated," Ben lied as he studied the socks that she’d left behind in his car, trying to decide which was her left and her right.

"Are you in her studio right now?"

"No. Maybe."

He hung up when he saw her sketch books. His agitation quelled in an instant when he saw her drawings of him. Not just 1 but 3. She’d drawn him from memory. Some small part of him melted, knowing that he had made an impression on her. He picked up her pencil and started a sketch as he called Hux back.

"Huxy, how much would I have to pay you to get braces again? Because I think you could name any price and it’d be worth it."

"Nice mood swing, Solo. It would be a fair trade if you get corn rows."

"When I move back, can we be lifeguards again?

"I loved watching your Mom go off the diving board. I hope that doesn’t sound perverted."

"Not totally. My mom was so pretty." 

Hux walked into where Phasma was methodically picking Legos out of the shag carpet. "Pretty is temporary. Beautiful women get more alluring with age."

"You’re being weird." Ben hung up again.

Phasma looked up with a half smile on her face. 

Hux leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Looking forward to date night?"

"Will you be heartbroken if our kids end up killing Ben?"

"No, he’s had a good run of it."

☾

Ben sat on the ratty couch in the graduate painting studios. The common space hadn’t changed in 12 years; open and well lit for group critiques. The white walls had been marred by thousands of pin holes where students had hung up their work over the years.

Today the walls were empty except for the flier for today’s artist workshop. Ben was annoyed that Hux had used an old photo from Juxtpose magazine to advertise the event. The article had gushed over his blood paintings when Ben had shown at Galerie Eva Presenhuber. The article had become a running joke and Hux had memorized long quotes of the author’s flowery praise for the sole purpose of annoying Ben.

The temperature outside had grown colder and snow was accumulating on the ground. Ben sat, admiring the view. The snow fell steadily even though his phone said the skies were clear. He walked to Rey’s studio and found her series of thesis photos leaning in the corner. Her sleeping bag and large Hello Kitty totebag stared back at him silently. He could sense her energy around the space. This was where she worked and slept. He carefully picked up the jar of ashes and tipped it on its side, watching the dust shift inside. 

His mother and his father had both been cremated. He would be as well, when his time came. There wasn't anyone to ensure that outcome except his lawyer; Ben had no real family left.

☾

Though they hadn’t spoken more than a few words at Han’s funeral, he had met his mother at Cocoa Beach to spread Han's ashes. He had driven straight from the airport and met Leia at 8 am. Early morning fishermen and Blue Herons looked on as they walked to meet his father’s two closest friends, Lando and Chewie, by the old pier. This was Han's favorite place in the world, besides the open sky.

They had vacationed here when his Father worked at Cape canaveral during his NASA days. Long months of separation were interrupted by weekends on the beach. 

Han’s ashes filled a white cardboard box. Ben hadn't expected it to be so small. He hadn’t known what to expect on any level. Leia unceremoniously pulled out the plastic bag of ash and handed it to him. He wasn’t sure what to do. Ben pushed up his sleaves and dug his hand into the box. That was how it was in movies; handfuls of ash scattered. His mother's expression shifted minutely and he knew he'd made a mistake. 

He he panicked and dropped the bag into the sand. His father's mechanic and best friend, Chewie, scooped up the bag before a wave carried it away. He walked into the waves and shook a little of the ashes out into the water. Lando took the next turn. He sang a line from the Neil Diamond song, Sweet Caroline:

Good times never seemed so good
I've been inclined
To believe they never would
Oh no, no

Ben shook out a measure of the ashes and whispered I'm sorry into the wind.

Leia turned to her son as she emptied the rest of the ashes. Ben knew from the look on his mother's solemn, beautiful face that she had already forgiven him but he would never forgive himself. 

Chapter Text

Ben was sitting crosslegged in the middle of the floor when Rey entered the open studio. He looked at her with such a strange expression that she stopped to check if someone was behind her. Why the hell would Ben Solo be excited to see her? 

Then she saw her sketchbook beside his Prada messenger bag. She could feel color rise in her cheeks as she remembered her drawings of him. Had he seen them? Was that why he seemed so damn strange?

"Give me that!" 

He reached for the sketchbook with his long arms. "Do you mean this?"

"Give it to me. Now."

He held it out to her and she snatched up up before hurrying to her studio. She heard him behind her. He moved quickly like a predator. Why was he following her around?

Ben pointed to her photos, now facing the wall. "Why did you take your work down?"

"I’m done with them." Her voice was clipped. "Done for good."

"I apologize if my comments were too harsh." His voice was slower than usual as though he'd practiced each syllable ahead of time.

"Yesterday was yesterday." She didn't meet his gaze, staring at his freshly shaved skin.

"Rey?"

There was something about the way he said her name. Something in her faltered and the words poured out of her too quickly. "You were right about my work; it wasn't what I wanted to hear but it was what I needed to know." 

His eyes hovered over her, taking in her jeans and tan blazer, wondering if she was wearing anything underneath. "I hope you're here for the Artist Workshop."

"I am." 

A slight smile flicked at the corner of his lips. "Is it just the two of us again?"

"Oh no, not today." Rey strode back to the shared crit space where Peli Motto was loudly blowing her nose. Rey turned back to Ben. "I'm in her class but she never, ever remembers me."

Instead of irritation, his smile broadened. "Don't take it personally, Peli has introduced herself to me about 30 times. I’ve known her for years."

“What is all this?" Peli surveyed pencils, paper and clipboards that Ben had lined up on the floor.  She pulled an inhaler out of her cardigan pocket and pulled in a deep breath. "Armitage Hux said the workshop topic was portraiture.” She stared out the window. “We should go to the park and make a Simon Beck snow pattern. Or a Janine Antonio, Gnaw." She laughed to herself. "God I’m so hungry. Do you smoke? I’m starving.”

“I’ve already been gnawed on enough.” Ben held up his arm to show off a bite mark.

“Did you two get in a fight?” Peli asked with snorting laugh.

He wasn’t sure how to best to explain that he’d been bit while wrestling Hux’s goldendoodle. Ben bit his lip. “Not yet.”

“Hi, I’m Peli Motto. I teach Letterpress and Book Arts here at Illium University.” She shook Rey’s hand. “Are you doing the Artist’s Workshop today?”

“No, Ben Solo is.” Rey nodded at Ben. 

“Ben Solo?” She set down a large purse and plastic shopping bag. “Oh Ben, it’s so nice to meet you.” 

“Oh, yes. It’s nice to meet you too.” Ben’s eyes fixed on Rey. 

Peli smiled as though seeing the studio for the first time. “Oh look, here you are, Rey. I like the sparkles in your jacket.” 

Rey looked at her blazer, momentarily confused. It wasn't sparkly. Was Peli completely high?

“Ben Solo! I do remember you. You’ve grown up to be such a good looking, hunky man. I mean, you’re so well proportioned. I suspect you’re very well proportioned, everywhere.”

Rey giggled. 

"I’m sorry Rey. As an university employee, I’m not allowed to have any opinion about your appearance or proportions. I’m sure all your assets are splendid.” She turned back to Ben with a smile. "Don't you think?"

Ben’s expression froze as Peli  clutched his arm. "Splendid, yes." He pulled away and opened his laptop. 

Peli continued. “Your mother was such a lovely, lovely person. We went to the same dentist. She had the loveliest smile. Do you know what’s happening with her house? I always thought it was such a great location and, in this real estate market, it’s very hard to find houses in Juranno Heights. I was wondering if you’re listing privately or using a realtor-”

“I'm going to live there.” Ben interrupted.

“You are?! You’re going to live here?!” Peli sounded astonished.

“I'm moving here." His eyes locked on Rey as he spoke. "I was offered a visiting artist position here at Illium. It’s a two year contract.” 

“A two year contract?  I wasn’t aware of that position being advertised. Were you aware of that position being advertised?” Peli asked Rey.

“No. But I’m still a student, Peli. And I-I already have a job. I work at the downtown library.”

“Do you mind starting your workshop, Ben?” Peli turned to Rey, “I’m trying to quit smoking.” She rummaged around her bag and pulled out a pink scarf.  “I have a hypnosis session this afternoon and I don’t want to be late.” She tied the scarf around her neck. “I try to wear pink on Sundays.”

“Very Ayurveda of you,” Ben remarked.

“Oh, you are clever! Your mother would be so proud of you knowing your days. Would you like a copy of her obituary? I have several photocopies somewhere.”

“Why don’t we start?” Rey nodded at the falling snow outside. “I don’t think anyone else is coming.” 

Ben handed out clipboards and pencils. "I wanted to talk about the power of text in portraiture. The example I wanted to share is KC Adam’s Perception Photo Series," said formally. How does the text change or relate to the image it is paired with?" To quote Barbara Kruger, 'I am interested in working with pictures and words because I think they have the power to tell us who we are and who we aren't, who we can be and who we can never be.' 

"Funny story: a long time ago, I went out on a date with Joan Jett and she owns two Barbara Krugers," Peli sighed. “I know makeup has an expiration date but I still have the eyeliner I stole from her bathroom.”

"Yes, exactly. In the first photo, the models were asked to think about racist remarks they or their family have experienced. She used their words as the text on their photo. In the second image, she asked them to write their own self-identifying title." Ben pulled a candy pink polaroid camera from his bag. "I'm going to take pictures of you. And I want to challenge you to think of words you've heard people say about you. Think of the meanest thing and the nicest thing. Pairing the words and images, hopefully we can think about how text influences perception. How do the labels we hold onto for ourselves change? How do they lift us up or tear us down?"

“What about you?” Rey put her clipboard face down and focused on Ben.

“For my negative, I put Evil. And my favorite word was Son. ”

Peli had started to peel an orange, watching them intently.

☾

Ben stared at Rey openly as she moved. She dusted her hands off on her faded jeans. He could catch subtle hints of a green floral perfume mixed with the warm scent of her skin. He liked the contrast between the confident way her body moved and the flickers of uncertainty in her eyes. When she looked up at him, her jaw seemed to reset in determination.

Peli licked her fingers and took out a large bottle of hand sanitizer. 

Ben hung the three sets of photos up on the marred walls of the grad studio. He adjusted the lights and took pictures with his phone before handing them back to Rey and Peli.

Peli popped up and gathered her belongings. “I’m going outside for one last cigarette.”

Ben stood with her, extending his hand. “Peli, it was an honor to meet you, again. I’ve been a fan of your work for years. I have a copy of your book in my bag. I was reading it on the plane.”

Peli crossed her arms. “You have my book?! Can I have it back?” 

“Um, no. It's a copy of your graphic novel, Lost Daughter. It was a gift.” Ben pulled the graphic novel out of his bag and showed Peli the signature.

She smiled and showed Rey. "Would you look at that! It is my book. How fun is that?" Peli pulled a carton of cigarettes out of her bag. "This has been loads of fun. I hope you two have the greatest day ever." Peli swept out of the room, two cigarettes dangling between her lips. 

“Wow.” Ben heaved a sigh as he watched Peli light up outside the studio and start walking toward a black Cadillac. He looked down to see Rey folding her page of photos in half, leaving the side up with the words, Miss Rey. He carefully placed his in his messenger bag, along with the extra pictures of Rey he'd taken. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Were you really reading Peli’s book?"

"Yeah. It’s incredible. Have you read it?"

"I’ve seen it at the library but I have to admit, I’ve never read it. I always sort of thought she was nuts."

“She is nuts but the book is incredible. Here, take this one. It’s autographed.” 

Rey took the book from him, noting its worn cover and pages marked with dozens post-it notes. His reverence for her strange Book Arts teacher was touching. “I wouldn't have guessed an artist represented by the fancy David Zwirner Gallery would be a fan of graphic novelists from Illium." 

"Graphic Novels aren't separate from Fine Arts; they're merely a different branch like animation or architecture."

She gripped her sketchbook tightly. "Ben Solo, you’re nothing like I expected.”

"That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me."

☾

She thumbed through Peli’s graphic novel. The drawings were stark but haunting. It's cover was an image of a woman who looked very much like Peli with frizzy hair and a confused expression. All of a sudden, he was next to her. He stared until she set down the book.

"Rey, I need to ask you something." His eyes slowly scanned her face. ‘You’re living here at the studio aren’t you?”

“No. I have an apartment,” she lied.

"You’re lying. I know you live here."

She chewed her lip before answering. “Things are tight.”

He handed her a plastic card. “I have a hotel room right around the corner.”

She flushed, her face grew hot. "I’m not that desperate, asshole." 

"No. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not using the room; I’m going to stay at my mother’s house."

"Oh." She pressed her lips together. Had she offended him? Shouldn't she be offended?

"The hotel is right there.” He pointed to a distant Marriott Hotel sign. “The department already paid for it ‘til Tuesday so it doesn’t matter whether I use it or not. Free breakfast, laundry service. I won’t use it; it will go to waste." 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"You were nice to me first."

He handed her his business card. "In case, whatever." 

"This is nice of you, Ben."

He checked the time. "I um- I need to go. I promised I’d babysit Hux’s kids." 

☾

She sat in the studio, reading the graphic novel written by the strangest teacher she'd ever known. 

Pelli’s graphic novel was about a young woman trying to find a family wedding dress in her mother's cluttered house. It seemed to Rey that Pelli had cast herself as the daughter, struggling to make sense of her mother's dementia. In the story, the mother couldn't distinguish between the past and present. Each panel of the graphic novel became increasingly chaotic as the mother's confusion deepened.

Somewhere, deep inside her, something had become untethered. She unfolded the paper with the taped on labels. The word Pig stared back at her but she didn't feel the wave of shame that she expected. She opened her sketchbook and her heart skipped a beat. Ben had drawn a picture of her. Her nose wasn’t quite right but it was definitely a picture of Rey staring up at someone. The edge of the hotel key card dug into her palm. 

She took out her phone and impulsively sent a text.

Reybees: It's Rey. How long are you in town?

She held her breath. This was a mistake. She shouldn't have texted him. Before she could cringe, she saw he was responding.

Ben Solo: Until Tuesday 

Reybees: Then you go back to your life in New York?

Ben Solo: I don’t have a life. I have a routine.

☾

She didn't respond. Ben didn't know what to do next so he simply stared at his phone. He cursed himself for being too personal, too strange. Just as he was about to walk into Hux's house, she texted back.

Reybees: It's not polite to go through other people's things. Especially sketchbooks.

Ben Solo: Your drawings were great. My drawing was awful. I wish I knew your face better. 

Reybees: Another time.

Chapter Text

Hux hurried out on the restaurant’s outdoor patio to take Ben’s call, his gin and tonic sloshing in his tight grip.

He and Phasma had left Ben at their house 3 hours ago. Their sons had immediately hauled Ben down to the basement to show off their new PS5. Phasma followed them, armed with a list of emergency phone numbers, a first aid kit and the password for the WiFi.

Hux lifted his face up to let the snow cool his forehead. “What did my children do?”

“Your son ate a lego,” Ben answered quickly.

Hux sighed. “Two or four?”

“What?!”

Hux took a sip. “Two dots or fours dots on the lego?”

“One dot.” Ben looked to Hux’s youngest son, Atticus, for confirmation.

“Round or square? It doesn’t matter. Atti can eat one dots all day - no problem.” Hux looked over his shoulder. “Don’t tell Phas I said that.”

“You’re on a tight leash, eh Hux?”

“We’ve been married for ten years; my wife knows I’m an idiot. Cosimo ate 3 cents when he was a toddler. We spent an entire day in the ER.”

“Yes, I remember the x-ray.” Ben had kept it on his frig for years as a reminder that children were dangerous.

“Did the boys eat any actual food ?”

Ben stared at the untouched plates of steamed carrots and grilled fish. “Ummm. Not really.”

“There are some emergency chicken nuggets in the freezer, in a box marked Boost Muscle Gain Protein Powder. It’s in the back of the freezer. Feed the broccoli or whatever to the dog.”

“You’re a good man.” Ben put an array of heart shaped nuggets in the microwave.

“How's the dinner?”

“I’m on my third drink. My coworkers are ghastly; everyone is talking about their colons. I’m bored to death and I hate Korean barbecue.” Hux smiled through clenched teeth at the Dean of the Art School. “It doesn’t matter, the job is yours. They’re already talking about having you apply for the tenure track.”

“Eh.” Ben felt the top of the nuggets.

“At least say thank you. ” 

“Thank you, Huxy.”

“You owe me a goddamn milkshake.”

“Take it down a level.”

“I’m so fucking bored.” He stared off into distance. “They’re all congratulating me on bringing you into the fold. I should go back inside.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hux, how long has Rey Niima been living in her studio?”

“What on earth makes you think I would ever divulge a student’s personal information?”

“Why isn’t she in student housing?” 

“She’s 25,” Hux explained quietly.

"There’s no age limit on your student housing; I just looked it up.”

"Goodbye.”

“Hux!”

☾

Rey didn’t realize her back ached until she stood up. she hadn’t moved in the hours since Ben’s departure, she had been sketching non-stop. Her artwork had shifted over the years from drawing to photography to performance. But she always came back to pencil and paper; back to the beginning. 

Growing up, The Princess Bride had been her favorite movie. Again and again, she had let herself get lost in the winding story. There had been too much turmoil in her life for action or horror movies; she needed heroes and happy endings. She needed to believe that true love and revenge were possible.

Inigo Montoya, the great swordsman, had always been her favorite character. His unwavering focus appealed to her, his loyalty, his determination. After he was bested by the Man in Black, his life spared, Inigo fell apart. His leader, the smart Vincini, was gone so Inigo went back to the Valley of Thieves, where he was eventually found by Fezzik. Drunk and dispirited, he yells that, 'if anything goes wrong Vincent told us to come back to the beginning and so I have.’ 

Drawing was Rey’s beginning . It was what had set her apart from her classmates in elementary school, what had gotten the attention of her high school teachers and what had secured her admission to Illium University. If she was going to toss out her entire thesis show and start over, she needed to return to the comfort zone of drawing.

Her new project was going to be a series of paintings using the leftover ashes in her studio. She wanted to paint the leftover pieces of her own family. Her cousin Plutt, her little cousin Mashra who had been adopted by a couple in Texas, her Uncle Ivano who lived in Wisconsin and the Grandfather, who she prayed would die in prison. 

After two hours of work, she had sketches for each of the works. The first would be a self portrait; a painting of the neglected girl who was called Pig.

The snow fell outside in a curtain. She loved the silence and the magical quality of a blanketed landscape. 

She reread Ben’s text and allowed herself to be lifted by the thrill of newness. He was moving to Illium. And he wished he knew her face better. She caught her own reflection in a window and was surprised at how happy she looked. 

She gripped the hotel key card in her hand. It might be a good excuse to message him.

☾

Ben was sitting in Hux’s basement, absentmindedly watching Hux's sons play Mario Carts. He silently scrolled through the images he’d taken of Rey’s sketchbook and the bookshelf in her studio. He’d planned to purchase a copy of every single book she owned. It seemed like a wise investment and would give him a variety of conversation starters. 

Ben’s last girlfriend had complained that they had nothing in common. Nothing to talk about. When he’d actually gone through her bookshelf, he’d discovered that he didn’t want to know her better. Not only did she have books by Steve Bannon and David Duke, she had a copy of genocidal book, The Camp of the Saints. 

That wasn’t the case with Rey. He had already had 12 of her books in his Amazon cart. As You Wish, the making of the Princess Bride, 3 Michael Ondaatje titles, books on street photography and outsider art. She was interesting and sentimental. He’d gotten stuck on one particular volume, an older printing of the Princess Bride book. He knew they probably didn’t need to have the exact same cover but it pissed him off to no end that he couldn’t find the book. 

What the fuck? He threw his phone in frustration. It bounced off a Minecraft pillow, landing in a bin of Legos. He jumped when he heard it ping from across the room.

Reybees: Forgot to ask the hotel room number

Ben Solo: Let me check 

What could he say to keep her texting? Should he send a picture of Hux’s kids so she could see that he was a responsible adult? Maybe she’d think they were his kids and get scared off. Or maybe she wouldn’t be impressed that they had been playing video games since their parents left?

“We should go outside and see the snow.” Ben announced, phone in hand. He'd take pictures of the boys making a snowman.

“It’s dark outside.” Cossimo answered without looking up.

“We do have a bedtime. You know that, right?” Atticus shoved a chicken nugget in his mouth. 

Reybees: ?

Ben scrambled to find the hotel’s cardboard key holder in his Northface jacket. 

Ben Solo: 404

Reybees: thx

☾

Rey stood in front of the art building. Was she really going to stay at this hotel? She stared at the sign, glowing in the distance. Rose’s apartment was in the opposite direction, downhill. She knew she was always welcome on Rose’s couch but she felt weird creeping in on her friends who were probably cuddling on the couch.

What would she do if he randomly showed up in the middle of the night? Oh right, that’s what deadbolt locks were designed for.

☾

Ben stood over the shoulder of Hux’s son, Cosimo. The 9 year old was wiring some sort of box. “Whatcha working on there, Cos?”

“A stun gun like Mommy’s.”

Ben struggled not to curse. “Oh geezus. Does it work?”

“Not yet.” Cosimo looked up at him with an angelic smile.

Ben breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Hux and Phasma call down for him. The children robotically turned off Mario Carts in an instant and charged upstairs.

“Mommy!” Atticus threw himself into Phasma’s velvet tunic. “Are you putting me to bed?” 

“Of course. Let me just clean up your mess.”

Ben held up the unfinished stun gun for Hux who frowned at it, turning it over. “He’s getting closer. My days are numbered. They were OK, otherwise?”

Phasma stood in the kitchen staring in the trash can. She held up the empty box of Boost Muscle Gain Protein Powder, her eyes wide. “Did you eat this, Ben?!”

Hux and Ben froze. 

“Good lord Ben, no wonder you look bloated!”

“Don’t rat me out!” Hux whispered under his breath.

“I’m uhhhh, trying to increase my muscle mass.” Ben tried to sound sincere. 

“Good heavens. You’re far too big already. This summer you and Hux are going to work with my trainer, Mitaka. You need to lengthen and tighten your muscles. I’ve already put you on the waitlist for our pool.”

“Um, OK.”

“We need to increase your cardio and decrease your weight training.” 

Hux elbowed him. “Lengthen and tighten up, Solo.”

Ben smiled mischievously. “I think it would strengthen my motivation if Hux trained with me.”

“No, no, no. I’m at my target weight.” Hux protested.

“Good idea, Ben. Huxy needs to increase his core strength.” She handed her husband a bottle of vitamins. “Take your B-12, I’ll walk Ben out.”

☾

Ben and Phasma stood in front of his rented Ford Explorer.

“Are you OK driving in this snow, city boy?”

Ben started to wipe his windshield off with his sleeve. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Look, I know Hux would never say anything but I would.” Phasma handed him an index card, folded in half. 

“What’s this?” Ben unfolded the card to read two words: Sheev Palpatine. 

“You’re going to have to read between the lines; see if you recognize anyone.” Phasma tucked the card in the pocket of his jacket. 

“Phasma Hux, you are a strange and beautiful woman.” Ben kissed her on the cheek. “Thank god, those boys got your looks.”

“Try to stay out of trouble, Solo.”

Ben started listening to Disintegration by the Cure as he started down the snowy street. He liked turning onto side streets and driving where there were no tracks in the snow. Rey had a old copy of this cd cover in her studio; it must mean something to her. He and Hux had both dressed up as Robert Smith for Halloween one year in high school. Everyone had thought they were the Joker. It had been Hux’s idea and Ben had been proud to have a cool friend.

He was stopped at an intersection when he noticed she’d messaged.

Reybees: Room key doesn’t work. Not sure what to do 

BenSolo: I’ll be right there 

Chapter Text

Rey made up a pretend conversation with Ben in her head to distract herself from the cold. Sh wanted to ask him about New York City, without sounding dumb. New York people always rattled off neighborhoods and street names in a way that made her feel stupid. How could she side step that? She wanted to ask about his gallery. Did he like Marlene Dumas’ work? Why did magazine articles about the gallery always mention the staircase? Did he hang out with other artists? She made a list of questions to help keep her mind off the cold as she stood outside of the hotel.

Ben closing Luke's Ahcho-To gallery weighed on her mind. Was he closing the high end gallery because he was moving here? It didn't make sense to let go of a high end gallery to take a 2 year visiting artist job at Ilium University.  Luke's gallery showed established artists and signed prints. According to Poe, it was a goldmine. Luke's own artwork was everywhere; calendars, t-shirts at the Gap, a line of dishware at Saks Fifth Avenue. Despite the lucrative marketing deals, was Ben going to dismantle Luke's legacy out of spite? It didn't make sense that he would hate anyone that much. At least, not someone like Luke Skywalker.

Her legs were getting cold and she rose up on her toes, up and down to keep the muscles moving. Maybe Ben wasn't coming after all? She looked at her phone and decided she would give him 5 more minutes before she walked to Rose's apartment.

She quietly imitated the way Poe pronounced artist’s names. He’d been an Army brat and had lived all over the world. Accents and emphasis on certain syllables came so naturally to him. There were names that she had to memorize phonetically as they sounded different than they looked: Cai Guo-Qiang. Francis Alÿs. Lisa Yuskavage. Rirkrit Tiravanija. The last one had always tripped her up in critiques and she was determined to conquer it so Ben didn’t think she was an idiot. Poe had pronounced it Tea-rah-vah-nit. Tea-rah-vah-nit. Tea-rah-vah-nit.

She walked to the curb and back, counting cars. She could still feel the glare of the hotel manager who had asked her to leave. He and the desk clerk were still watching her, probably trying to decide if it was worth it to call the police on a night like this. She didn’t need to see their expressions to know what they thought of her.

She heard a car door slam and Ben was suddenly beside her.

“What happened?”
“The key didn’t work." Her teeth chattered. "Are you sure it’s the right number?” 
“Let’s go inside.”
“Maybe I should just go?”
He looked at her face, cheeks flushed from the cold. “You’re freezing. Why are you outside?”
“They asked me to leave.” Her voice grew quiet. “I’m pretty sure they think I’m homeless.”

Suddenly his demeanor shifted. His face went blank. He turned on his heel and stormed into the lobby. She started to follow him but turned her back when he smashed a floral arrangement on the lobby floor.

“Can I help you, Mr. Solo?!” The voice sounded scared. It was same manager who had threatened to call the police on Rey.

A rack of brochures hit the floor and Rey moved silently toward the entrance. Ben’s voice dropped to a low snarl and she was glad that she couldn’t make out his words over the sound of a passing salt truck.

Ben returned to her side, hands jammed deep in his pockets. His eyes darted around the room. He was looking everywhere but into her eyes.

“You didn’t have to break that vase.”
“They didn’t have to put you out in the snow.” His eyes finally met hers. “It was my fault, I gave you the wrong number. Can I walk you up? Let me carry your bag?”
“I’ve got it." 
“Let me do something? Please?”
She handed him her Hello Kitty tote bag and they walked past the broken vase. She looked down at her worn combat boots, regretting how much snow she’d tracked inside. “I wish you hadn’t done that.” The flowers weren’t real but they were nice fakes.

“They can’t treat you like you’re no one.”

Rey met his eyes defiantly. “I am no one.”

His voice dropped. “Not to me.”

She stood with her back to him in the elevator. He watched her in the mirrored surface. Her face was unreadable, strained with stress. She took off her knit hat and smoothed her hair, tucking it behind her ears.

“I’m sorry, Rey.”

“I felt so stupid. I should have just left”

“They could have checked the room number. They could have called me.”

Her lips trembled. He’d forgotten what it was like to be young and invisible. Or maybe he’d never known. Maybe people like him had never felt inferior or worthless. With his Prada bag and Northface coat, no one was ever going to tell him that he didn't belong. The elevator door closed but neither of them pushed any buttons. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there? What is it?”

Rey shook her head. 

“You’re shaking. You don’t want to be here.” He felt sick. “I made - I make you uncomfortable.”

She looked down at her hands. "It's not that. It's this place."

The elevator doors opened uselessly and he pressed the close door button. "Let’s leave. Let’s just go." 

She looked up at him in exasperation, he didn’t seem to understand that some people had no place to go. “The studio locked at 9. I can’t go back there.”

He looked up at the ceiling, wondering if the hotel manager was watching them. "Rey, do you like Julian Schnabel's paintings?"

"Honestly? I don’t like his work." 

"Good answer." Ben's low chuckle that somehow took the edge off her nerves. "I don't like it either. What about Yves Klein?"

"Um, I love the color blue?"

"Rey would you like to go to my Mother’s house?"

☾

They drove through the snow covered streets to the turning, twisting neighborhood of Juranno Heights. He had started The Cure's Disintegration album from the beginning, thinking that Plainsong was the perfect song for driving in the falling snow. Ben checked Rey’s expression and registered her silence. The hotel had been a dumb idea. He had thought he was doing something nice but it made her feel embarrassed. He wanted to burn the hotel straight to the ground. He wanted to murder whoever or whatever had hurt her in the past. In one violent shudder, he realized that he cared about her. He was beyond basic curiosity, beyond his own obsessive tendencies.

Rey felt a jolt of panic when he pulled over. They were at the edge of a metropark. Had she misjudged the situation? Was he going to attack her? Were the doors locked? How far could she get if he chased her? She gripped her backpack, ready to bolt. 

"I’m not lost." He muttered to himself as he plugged in his phone. He continued to fiddle with the screen. He was studying Google Maps, turning his screen to the side, zooming in and out.

"I thought we were going to your Mom’s house?" Her hand was on the door. 

His eyes followed her hers. "You should tell someone where you’re going, to be safe." 

"I-I don’t know where I’m going."

"246 Corellia Boulevard, if I can find it. I must have missed a street. Geezus, everything in this fucking neighborhood looks the same."

She texted Rose. 

Reybees: I'm going to hang out with Ben Solo tonight. If anything happens to me, he did it ...

Rose8me: Prince of Darkness? Again?
Rose8me: Kidding. He's cute.

Reybees: He's not unattractive. We're going to his Mother's house in Juranno Heights. 246 Corellia blvd. 

Rose8me: Take a picture. 

Rey took a selfie with Ben in the background, a surprised look on his face. Her lips twitched as she sent the picture. 

Rose8me: I meant take a picture inside the house. Poe says she has an amazing art collection
Rose8me: 2 Yves Kleins.

Rose8me: I'd sleep inside a shipping container with a werewolf to see those Kleins.

Rose8me: Those were Poe's words, not mine. I don't care that much about blue paintings
Rose8me: Poe says she has a Picasso but I don’t think that’s true. We've been drinking scotch with Finn's Nana

Reybees: Glad you're so concerned about me. 

She looked up to see Ben watching her, an amused expression on his face. "Are you friends worried I'm going to kill you or something?"

"They would be if they saw the hotel lobby."

"Is that why you wanted to leave? You were embarrassed of me? I'm sorry."

She looked out the window. It fogged with her breath and she slowly drew a smiley face. "I don’t have a lot of good experiences with hotels. Motels, really. When I was little, we'd go back and forth between relative’s houses. When things were bad, we stayed at motels. I liked the little shampoos but the rest of it was bad."

Ben studied her. "Are you parents still around?"

"No, they died when I was 8. And then things got really bad."

He waited for her to explain but she turned up the Cure instead. Her jaw was set, as though she was ready for a fight. After the song ended, he hit the pause button. She turned back to the window and wiped away the fog.

"You aren’t alone, Rey."

She watched him in the reflection. "Neither are you."

Chapter Text

Ben pulled onto the street where his Mother had lived. “It’s an eclectic neighborhood.”

“Is that rich-people-talk for not having a driveway?” Rey laughed.

He looked over at her, overwhelmed by gratitude. Having her here was making the situation bearable. “What do you think of it?”

“What a dump," she deadpanned.

☾

He didn’t feel like he had known this new version of his Mother; the widow. Leia2.0  She had bought the house for the view and for a change of scenery. She had shed the past like an old coat, slipping into a second life without looking back.

His parent’s old Tudor house had been a showplace for parties and fundraisers. His childhood home. There had been a hill out back for sledding and an electric fence for the rotation of golden retrievers who had all been named Butterscotch.

When his Father died, Leia bought a townhouse and a kitten. Ben stopped in front of the ultra modern house on Corellia Boulevard and wondered if this was the life his Mother had wanted for herself all along. He had looked up the house on the realtor’s website so he’d have a visual reference; it had a large outdoor courtyard, local sandstone floors, glass walls, crisp lines and white walls. Built into the side of the hill, it had a spectacular view of the city. Sunsets — his mother always liked to have a clear view of the sun setting. Ben had heard from Hux that his Mother had bought the house without even stepping through the front door. 

Everything about the house felt wrong and he’d been avoiding coming. It felt like Leia had built a secret clubhouse and left him out. He ripped open the manilla envelope from the estate lawyer’s office and pulled out the keys. There were no key rings or ornamentation; just a set of three keys for the house that now belonged to him.

☾

A gray cat with blue eyes sat in front of the door, staring them down. It retreated to the backyard as they opened the car doors. He felt his heart pounding. He hefted his suitcase and Rey’s Hello Kitty tote before she could argue. Concentrating on the additional baggage helped him focus. Snowflakes quickly covered their hair and it occurred to him that even their footprints would quickly disappear in the heavy snow.

“This is it?”

He shrugged. “I hope so.”

She looked at him quizzically. “It’s funny that you’re planning to live here and you’ve never been inside.”

“Hux said that my Mother bought the place without ever setting foot inside.”

“Great minds think alike.”

“That’s a genuinely nice way of pointing that I’m impulsive and have poor judgment.”

“Like asking me to come here because you felt sorry for me?”

In the silence of the snow, he wanted to tell her that he had brought her here to protect himself. He couldn’t face coming to his Mother’s house alone. “My Mom died here. Her neighbor, Mrs. Kanata, found her. They were supposed to go out to brunch.”

“I’m sorry.” 

He shifted the bags around, having his hands full was a welcome distraction. He felt like the world was caving in around him. He didn’t need to look up the security code, he knew it would be his birthday. 

Ben set their bags on the mudroom bench. He felt lightheaded, Leia’s shoes were by the door. Her lavender coat and Coach purse still hung on a hook. He gripped the doorframe to steady himself. Maybe he could sleep in the car? No, Rey would think he was weird.

Ben forced himself to close the door behind them to keep out the cold. He didn’t want her to know that he was steadily sliding toward a panic attack. He could feel his heart racing as he fumbled to find a light switch.

“Get the fuck out!” Rey had stopped in the foyer, staring at a drawing by Elizabeth Peyton. 

Ben stood behind her. “Luke commissioned it. I always forget how small it is.” He straightened the picture frame with shaky hands. He was relieved that she didn’t seem to notice his anxiety. Being near her soothed his nerves.  

Rey turned, a hesitant smile on her face. “She’s my favorite artist. I can’t believe there’s an Elizabeth Peyton drawing of you! How old were you?”

“15. Look at my nose.” 

“You’re so cute. This is such a beautiful drawing.” 

Something tight and ugly seemed to uncoil in his chest. He was no longer standing alone in the house where his Mother died. He was standing beside her, swept up in her energy. He could breathe. His heart could keep beating. 

He tried to see the drawing through her eyes. His long nose and messy hair. He’d met the artist in Luke’s gallery and she’d sketched him while they talked about music. He remembered that she had liked Bright Eyes . He had recently started listening to Jawbreaker and she let him play Accident Prone while she worked. He felt grown up and valued. In the drawing, he didn’t look like a kid who had to take Xanax in order to walk into the lunch room. She hadn’t drawn him with acne and dark circles from insomnia; he looked cool. When he’d seen himself in the drawing, it was the first time in his entire life that he had been able to recognize himself as someone worth knowing. 

Rey studied the picture silently. She looked from the drawing to Ben’s face and back again. She already viewed him as handsome. Intimidating, overbearing, overwhelming. In life, his face was complex, as though collaged together, a group of mismatched features that made sense at some moments, not at others. But in the drawing, he was at peace. Somewhat tranquil. He was actually kind of beautiful. 

Rey turned to him, aglow, as though they were sharing a magical secret instead of staring at a $50,000 drawing. “I can’t believe how much I love this!”

“There is another,” he said quietly. And, almost of its own will, his hand brushed her elbow. He pointed to a painting on the opposite wall, above the mudroom bench stacked with his mother’s small shoes. Even through Rey’s puffer coat, he was conscious of her warmth below the layers.

She inhaled sharply and decided to ignore the reverberations of his touch. It wasn’t really a touch. It was a redirection like you’d give a stranger who was about to step off the curb. 

She turned to see a second drawing by Elizabeth Peyton. Her brain didn’t work like Poe’s, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the artworld, but she was astute enough to realize that there was at least $100,000 dollars worth of art in the room. This painting was of a teenage girl, standing in front of a window, her hair arranged in two messy side buns. “Is that your mother?”

“Luke commissioned the portraits. He represented Elizabeth Peyton for a while. There’s a painting of Luke somewhere too. He always kept her portrait and she had his. When he died, I guess she got them both.”

“And now they’re all yours?” Rey asked.

“Yes.” His anxiety returned like an avalanche. Their legacies belonged to him now. It weighed him down like an anchor.

Rey ventured into the living room. “Oh my god, there’s a drawing by Rirkrit Tiravanija in here. Is it OK if I take a picture of it? My friend Poe is going to have a heart attack. Holy fucking shit.”

Ben struggled to find a thermostat. The house was too cold. 58 degrees? Geezus. He couldn’t figure out if he’d set it correctly.

Rey leaned against the doorframe. “Poe just texted that Rirkrit Tiravanija drawing hasn't been exhibited in 20 years.”

Ben focused on Rey’s face. Her easy smile was always at odds with the hesitation in her flashing eyes. Were they hazel green or a warm brown? Breathe, breathe, breathe. He felt like he was walking on a tightrope toward her. If he looked at his parent’s furniture, he would get sick. If he saw their wedding picture, he’d collapse into the floor. 

He reached her side, his eyes trained only on her face. He was suddenly aware that she had freckles. Across the bridge of her nose and scattered along her hairline. It felt like sunshine in this dark cave of a house where his Mother had come to die. 

“Tiravanija shows at the same gallery as you, right?” She grinned, pleased with herself for pronouncing the name correctly.

She was talking but he was missing pieces of their conversation like he was drunk or translating another language. “I’m sorry, yes. Rirkrit shows at Zwirner. But Luke used to represent him, too. My Mom and Luke bought art from each other’s galleries all the time. My mom bought that drawing before it even left his studio. Luke thought this series was too important to put on the open market.”

“Why didn’t Luke buy them himself?”

“Appearances.” Ben heard a hollowness in his voice. “Sometimes, they’d conspire together if one of them wanted an art show to sell out. Or if they were holding onto work that was losing value. Other times, it was to keep a collector they didn’t like from buying art. Sometimes it was simply an investment. They bought the Yves Klein set together because Luke thought they would increase in value.”

“Have they?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to sell them?”

“Maybe. I'm hoping his prices will run up. They were investment pieces.”

She squinted at him. He seemed so comfortable discussing art. It was funny; she’d never heard anyone talk about Yves Klein’s work so casually. “Are they in the house?”

“Maybe upstairs? My mom wanted to sell them but I think one of them needs to be in a museum. I am going to sell all of Luke’s collection of Julian Schnabel paintings and a Jaume Plensa. I’m getting rid of Mom’s Rookwood pottery.”

“Why?” 

“You can’t keep everything.”

Ben stayed in the living room while Rey roamed through the house. The living room was dominated by a massive sectional couch with royal blue throw pillows. A chubby orange tabby cat sat squarely in the center, staring at them. 

Ben approached the cat cautiously. “You must be BB-8. I’ve heard all about you killing birds.”

“BB-8 is an odd name for a cat.”

“My Mom named her cats after product serial numbers. I think BB-8 was the model number of a Roomba vacuum. There are two other cats: C3PO and R2D2, who might have been on the porch. God, I should have asked if you’re allergic.”

“I’m not. Wait- who takes care of them?”

“Her neighbor Mrs. Kanata has a key but she’s about 700 years old.” He went back to the thermostat and obsessively checked the temperature. He watched as a calico peaked through the cat door, bolting when it spotted him. Ben paused, an idea occurring to him. She could take care of the cats. It gave his obsessive mind a direction and a new purpose. He turned questions around in his mind, allowing himself to puzzle over it from all angles. 

Ben stared at the cat door as if he could will the creature to return.

☾

Rey drifted upstairs, trying to take in her surroundings. It seemed as though the downstairs rooms were dedicated to contemporary art but the upstairs was a different matter.

“Whoa. Your Mom was a pretty big Tarantino fan!” She called down the stairwell.

“Huge.” He forced himself to the bottom of the stairs, one step at a time, to the hall where she stood in front of a row of signed movie posters. 

He pointed to a poorly lit picture of his Mother grinning next to the famous director. “She stood in line for two hours at Comic-Con to get a picture with him.”

“You’re kidding?”

“She read an article about him driving a beat up yellow Saab 900 and bought the exact same car.” Ben frowned, momentarily struck by how similar he and his mothers were in their obsessive tendencies. That was something to consider later. Maybe tomorrow.

“Were you and your Mother close?”

“No. We didn’t speak for 4 years.” 

“Because of your dad?”

He didn't answer her. His gaze turned to the window. Was the snow still falling? He wasn't sure if he wanted it to stop. Maybe everything could simply slow down.

☾

A grey cat appeared on the back of the sectional. 

Ben sunk down into the couch. The cat sidled up next to him. He looked at the cat’s collar. “Is your name R2D2?” His Mother’s first kitten. The cat stood on his lap, tail swishing in his face until he smiled. “You were a good friend to my Mom.” The cat curled up against him and the exhaustion he’d been holding back for days seemed to unfold. 

Ben scuffed off his boots and lay down on the couch. As long as he focused on Rey’s face, he felt calmer.

"You and your mother didn’t talk? 

"Not until the end. I mean, I didn’t know she was sick. We talked 3 times before she died. I was in line for coffee the first time she called. We talked about her cats and art. She wanted to know what my house was like."

"You have another house?" Rey suddenly had the sense that she was glimpsing the tip of an iceberg. He had a whole other life. Or a routine in the shape of a life.

"I had a house. In Beacon, North of the city. The closing is Friday. My Mom wanted me to tell her what my days were like; what I did in the morning." He smiled weakly. "It’s chilling how boring my routine is."

"Is it exhausting to walk around all day with a brooding stare?" 

"I’m exhausting." he laughed. He liked that he laughed at himself around her. "My Mom wanted to tell me that she hated my new work but she understood why I needed to make it."

"Did she blame you for your father’s death?”

“My Mom had sent him to Positino to bring me home.”

Rey nodded, processing the information. Ben’s most recent artwork had been based on airport security footage of Han in Italy. There had been a slew of articles about the works which had been painted using his own blood mixed with cocaine. 

Ben heaved a sigh. “All of the choices I've made: Buy this art, go to this party, rent this apartment, not that apartment... I made so many stupid choices that went into my Dad dying. I was selfish and shitty and I don’t deserve to have his name. It was an accident but I think the shitty negativity that I put into the universe collected around me like a cloud and just - poof.”

“I can assure you that you can’t protect yourself from bad things happening.”

He wished he could protect her. 

“Are you hungry?”

“What? Yeah. But it’s would take forever to get delivery in this weather.”

She hopped up and pulled out her old lunch bag. “Here.” And just like that, she was offering him half of a peanut butter sandwich. She picked off the Food Bank label, hoping he hadn’t noticed. 

He forced himself to look away. His face flushed thinking about how she had so willingly shared her food with him. She had almost nothing but she was sharing it with him.

As he ate, he let his eyes cast around the room. There were pictures on the mantle. Ben was relieved to see they were pictures of his childhood dogs. He noticed that there were no family pictures. Had his Mother gotten rid of them or were her memories boxed up somewhere, hidden from view?

His eyelids were getting heavy. He stared at Rey on the opposite side of the massive sectional. 

“Tell me why Elizabeth Peyton is your favorite artist.”

“I like that everyone gets to be imperfect and beautiful in her paintings.”

He yawned. “Even monsters like me?”

“Even monsters like you, Ben Solo.”

He liked her voice. He liked the dimples when she smiled. Why hadn’t he noticed then sooner? “What do you think of Marilyn Minter’s art?”

Rey rolled her eyes. “My friend Rose loves her. It’s a little too voluptuous and steamy for me but I see the appeal.”

She looked over to see that Ben Solo had fallen asleep. She tiptoed to where he lay and covered him with a fluffy blanket that perfectly matched the grey cat curled up by his side. 

The street outside was quiet and dark. She turned the lock and scooped up BB-8 as he crept through the cat door. A draft of freezing air hit her and she nuzzled the cold from the cat’s fur. She looked outside again, pleased to see the undisturbed snowy streets. 

“Goodnight monsters,” she whispered softly to the night.

Chapter Text

Ben woke with morning light. The cats stared him down as he scrounged around the kitchen looking for coffee.

He was used to dogs. Dogs listened and mostly obeyed. His childhood dogs had been his constant companions, sometimes his only friends. After long days of disappointing his teachers and classmates, it was always a relief to come home to his dogs. They didn't care what he'd done; they only cared that he was with them. Jumping at the doors, tails thumping away in joy. His dogs infectious love made him glad to be alive.  

His mother’s cats, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to him. Curling around his ankles one minute, then a split second later they looked like they wanted to murder him.

He opened and closed cabinets, trying to be quiet. Rey was still asleep on the couch. Perfect, adorable. She'd slept with her boots on but otherwise, she seemed at peace.

☾

He wrestled his phone out of his sweatpants. "Hux, what are you doing?"

"I’m using Phasma’s Peloton."

"What’s that, a vibrator?" He stared at the coffee maker, wondering if he could make it work any faster by shaking it. 

"It’s a stationery bike, Solo. I’d like to think that even an idiot like you might absorb certain things by simply being on earth."

"Good god, you’re testy."

"I’m riding my little bike to nowhere and I’m starving to death."

"No food at the Hux house?"

"Not for me. Phas has me doing intermittent fasting."

"Do you think Rey is beautiful?"

"Good lord, you know I can’t answer that." Hux snapped. "Please rephrase your question."

"Rey seems like a good person." 

"Correct."

"What happened to her parents? Why is she living in the studio? What kind of music does she like?"

"You know I’m not going to answer you."

"Damnit Hux!" He stopped himself and took a deep breath. "Hux, please?"

"Not in a million years, Solo. Not only is it unethical for me to discuss my students personal information but it’s none of your business. Go to your Mom’s house. Geezus Ben, there could be squirrels eating your Mom's Piccinini."

"I’m at my moms house right now. We slept here last night."

"We?"

"Rey and I slept on separate couches but there’s a definite vibe. I like her." Ben's voice dropped to a low whisper. "Do you think it's wrong to take pictures of someone while they're asleep?"

"I don’t know how I feel about that."

"And my Mom sold her Piccinini to Luke 5 years ago." He huffed. "Well, you’ve been useless to talk to and I hope you fall off your little bike."

☾

Hux called back while Ben was staging a scene outside in the courtyard. 

"So you actually like her?" Hux asked, his voice neutral.

"Yes."

"Rey Niima is one of the best students I've ever had. No one wants to be in school as much as she does. No one is more adaptable or harder working than that girl." Hux cleared his throat. "I trust you won’t tell her I said that. Or that I called her a girl. She's 25; she's a woman. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I won’t tell anyone that you’re a human. Your secret is safe with me." 

"I found a very large bag of fruit snacks in Cosimo’s backpack. I haven’t had these things in years. They are absolutely delicious. Sour Apple - have you had these things?"

Ben emptied an entire bag of cat food on the ground. "Uh huh."

"What was that sound?"

"I didn’t say anything." Ben quickly folded the bag, looking around to see if anyone had seen him.

"You two are well suited for each other, like two foreigners who speak another language. Like a storm cloud meeting the sea."

Ben kicked over the cat's water bowl. "That’s damn poetic, Huxy."

"I’m riding a sugar high, Solo. I feel like I could levitate."

☾

She woke up to the sound of typing. Ben smiled over his laptop. "Do you want coffee?"

"Yes."

He bolted up and returned with a steaming mug and 2 boxes. "There’s almond milk and soy milk. Both are within moments of their expiration dates."

"Almond milk, please." She shook up the box before pouring it in. "You showered?"

Ben copied her, pouring his own. "Showered and shaved. The cats watched me the entire time." 

Lucky cats. Rey blushed at the thought.

“How is your thesis coming along?” 

She grabbed her sketchbook perched next to him on the edge of couch. Too close. She scooted over slightly. "I’m going to use the leftover pet ashes to paint the leftovers remains of my family. My cousin Plutt, my baby cousin Mashra, my Uncle Ivano and this last one is my Grandfather, who is in prison.

Ben studied the sketches. "I really like these."

"This first is a self portrait." She showed him a painting of a teenage girl wearing clothes that didn’t fit her. The word Pig was scrawled above it. "You don’t think it’s too similar to Zhang Huan's ash paintings?"

"No. They're stylistically different with different intentions. I like that you’re using text. I always like seeing the hand of the artist. It’s personal and it makes it feel sharper." 

"You think I should keep the words?"

"Definitely."

He let himself stare at her. He wanted to say a million different things. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was beautiful. Beautiful in the drawing. Beautiful drinking coffee. He wanted to tell her that she had made coming to his Mother's house bearable. "I was wondering if I could ask you something? A favor?"

She set down her coffee cup and untangled herself from blankets. Was it time to run?

"I was wondering if you would housesit. Catsit, I mean." His words rushed out together. 

"I thought you were going to ask me for some kind of weird kinky thing like stepping barefoot on a cake."

He laughed. "Well I'd take that too. Is that a thing?"

"You want me to stay here?"

"I'm getting more coffee. Do you want some?" 

She followed him to the immaculate kitchen. Immaculate except for the cat sitting in the sink. He frowned at R2D2 and reached for the faucet. The cat's tail wagged for an instant before it hissed at him. "No cats in the sink." He turned the faucet on quickly and was rewarded with a scratch. 

Rey noticed there were no spices in the cupboards, a few lonely bottles of Ensure on the shelves. 

"Mrs. Kanata comes by everyday to feed the cats but she's ancient. I don't think her mind is all there." Ben pointed to the outside courtyard where the cat's bowls had been overfilled, spilling onto the ground.

Rey stood beside him at the backdoor. Their shoulders touched for a fleeting second. He held his breath.

"Poor cats," she said softly.

Ben nodded. "I worry she's going to forget them or feed them to death." He hoped he sounded convincing. 

"How would I get to work? I guess I'm near downtown."

"There's a bike in the garage," Ben lied. There would be a bike in the garage. He wondered how quickly he could get one delivered. "And you're on a bus line. It would only take you 15 minutes to school - I checked. I could get you a bus pass." He hoped that last one didn't sound too crazy. He knew he sounded too eager. He needed to to shut the hell up.

"How long are you gone?" 

"Two months? Maybe less. I need to sell the house. Get rid of Luke's apartment somehow. Close up his gallery, the storage, deal with the loan contracts. I'm a little freaked thinking about all of it."

Rey pressed her lips together, overwhelmed on his behalf. "OK."

"OK?! You'll do it?! I'm so relieved." He looked over at R2D2 who had one paw in the sink. It gave him a knowing look. Thank god you can't talk. The gray cat's eyes narrowed and it stepped back into the sink.

☾

Rey stepped into the shower, door locked, clothes folded neatly on the sink. Unlike the kitchen, the bathroom was full stocked. Body wash, perfumes, a dazzling array of shampoos. Rey had taken a moment to memorize the deep whirlpool bath tub. She imagined what it would be like to slip into a hot bath at the end of a long day. If there were some nice days, she could paint outside. Or just stare at the painting of Ben. 

☾

She sat at the top of the steps, tying the worn laces her boots. She didn't want Ben to see that her socks had holes in them. She was wearing her favorite blue sweater and faded jeans. The hot  shower and unfamiliar scent of her hair had made her feel like a new person. She walked down the steps to see Ben waiting for her, a toothbrush in his mouth. It felt strangely comfortable. She had to remind herself that she had only known him for a few days. 

"Are you busy today?" 

She froze, trying to think. "I’m working." 

"Oh." His disappointment was evident. 

"I mean but that’s not til later so I could - oh wait! Shitbiscuits, I said I’d go sledding with my friends. We always go sledding."

"That's sounds OK." 

She smiled, wheels turning in her mind. "I’m sure I can get out it."

"If it’s alright with you, I’d like to go with you."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You want to go sledding with me and friends with our garbage sleds?"

"If that’s OK with you?"

Chapter Text

As they walked out to the car, Rey saw a petite woman with thick coke bottle glasses and an asymmetrical black Comme des Garçons coat standing in the yard. She stood at the base of a sycamore tree, staring up at BB-8 who had climbed up to a high branch.

"BB-8, come down at once!" 

Ben smiled at her, hoping she remembered him from the funeral. “Maz, this is Rey. She is going to housesit until I move here.”

Maz looked him up and down, slowly. “But you are here, Ben Solo.”

“I guess I am. At least for now.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Rey extended her hand. 

“You seem like a sensible girl. Maybe you can tell me how to get a cat to come down from a tree.”

Rey looked up at the cat. “I think BB-8 will come down when he wants to.”

“He’s a she,” Maz corrected.

“She will come down when she gets hungry enough. People will do anything when they’re starving; I imagine the same thing is true for cats.”

Maz's stern gaze returned to Ben. “Why did your Mother let her cats go outside if they alway end up climbing trees?” 

“Optimism, I guess.” 

☾

Ben had let Rey drive. She looked small behind the wheel of the Ford Explorer. Though her expression was placid, he could tell that she enjoyed driving. She was cautious on the snowy roads, her elbows tense.

Ben dialed Hux. "What are you doing right now?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I was snowboarding?" Hux pulled ski googles off his face. 

"I would require photographic evidence." 

Hux showed Ben the view of the bunny hill where he was watching his youngest son’s skiing lesson. He turned the camera on himself, holding his arm out to show his Supreme logo. "Phasma bought me snowpants. They're oddly flattering."

"I find that incredibly hard to believe. Do people think you’re Shaun White? 

Hux laughed and Rey took her eyes off the road for long enough to see her professor sucking his cheeks for the camera. Ben chuckled, his wide shoulders shook with laughter. He was cute when he laughed, she had not expected him to be cute.

Hux adjusted the camera to show off the view. "Yes, there’s a line for autographs forming around me as we speak. I’m about to shoot a Diet Pepsi commercial. Can you believe Shaun White’s lifestyle brand is called Whitespace? Where are you?"

Ben turned his camera on Rey, who pretended to be focused on driving. "I’m on my way to go sledding with Rey and her friends."

"Don’t you fly out today?"

"I switched my flight. I’m leaving at 1 am."

Hux sighed heavily. "I don’t know what to say about that."

"Say you’re happy for me." 

"OK."

☾

They sat in the car waiting for her friends. Ben had insisted on treating her to ice cream to celebrate the housesitting arrangement. He watched her eat at a glacier's pace.

"Who knew they made vegan cookies and cream?"

Rey smiled happily. "It's magic. Pure chemical goodness." 

"I'll take your word for it." He was eating a scoop of coffee ice cream and drinking jasmine tea. It was a terrible combination, a bit like floral vomit. He tried not to react and concentrated on her profile. He imagined what it would feel like to trace his fingers along her perfect ear lobes.

Rey wasn't sure how to react to Ben staring at her so intensely. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, but there’s someone I see once a week.” 

Her eyes widened “A professional?”

He laughed and coughed at the same time. “No, no, no. She’s in an open relationship and I’m the current plus one.”

”Oh”

"Its just sex. Stress relief. We have sex at her office." 

“That sounds like a professional.” 

Be threw his head back, laughing. She was the only person besides Hux who made him laugh.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me if I’m seeing someone?" Rey blushed when he didn’t respond 

”If you were seeing someone you wouldn’t have been sleeping in your studio.”

“Maybe I have a fabulous boyfriend who lives out of town.” 

"There’s no way someone would be able to stay away from you."

She flushed deeper. "There was someone and he was perfect. I thought he was the one." 

Ben sat up straighter.

Rey folded her napkin into squares. "He was worldly and dashing and very smart."

"Are we talking about a real person or a Disney prince?" Ben's tone was playful but his intense stare had returned.

"He's was very real. I loved his family, I loved his dog. But then he met someone else and I could tell they were right for each other so I stepped aside." 

"Noble. Maybe you’re the Disney Prince." 

Rey shrugged. "That’s him." She pointed to a couple pulling up in a new Subaru Outback.

Ben squinted at the man. Dark hair, toothy grin, confident. "Tomato guy? You were in love with the guy who threw a tomato at me?"

Rey felt the old pull of humiliation looking at Poe. Ben watched as she straightened her posture. Rey's expression tightened into a smile and froze in place. 

Feelings rolled past her in waves. Whenever she saw Kaydel and Poe together, she always felt like she’d done something wrong. No matter how much she reasoned with herself, the feeling that remained was an ache that she couldn’t classify or rid herself of. It settled into her jaw, making itself known at times like this; when she had an audience.

“We were together for almost two years.” She knew her voice sounded pathetic, idiotic. Her pain was like a childish prayer forever tucked into the back of her throat. She had wanted so badly to belong somewhere, to someone.

"When he moved out, and I ended up with rent I couldn’t really afford." She looked over at Ben. "You had asked why I’m living in the studio and that’s it. He moved on." 

Ben’s hands gripped the edge of his seat. He had never felt so grateful for someone else's poor judgement.

Rey watched as Kaydel struggled Poe's French Bulldog into a red snowflake sweater to match her own. The dog's legs flailed, trying desperately to escape. Poe got plastic sleds out of the trunk, pausing to playfully bat at the pompoms on Kaydel's hat. 

“She can give him a better life than I could.”

“What does that mean?” 

"Kaydel's parents are richer than god. Her dad is lawyer or something. They go to Switzerland every Christmas and have a condo in the Virgin Islands. They’re going to Israel as a graduation present. 

"And you didn’t feel like you couldn’t compete with international travel?"

“Let's see, student loan debt and my scumbag relatives versus New Years Eve in Costa Rica?” She tipped her hands up and down “Yeah, how to choose?”

“Rey?”

"Yes?" She turned, surprised to see the strange, open expression on his face. 

“There are men who would tear the world apart for a chance with you.”

She stared at him for a second. Was he being funny? Chills ran up and down her spine and back. "I take back what I said about you before. Maybe you are scary."

He laughed but his eyes never left hers. She got out of the car and waved Poe over. She held back a giggle when Poe and Kaydel noticed Ben Solo beside her. They pivoted, their expressions registered shock.

Ben stepped closer to her, bending down to whisper in her ear. "Do you still love him?"

His breath tickled her neck. "No. Not anymore."

"Good."

The French Bulldog raced to Rey who scooped him up. "Hey Zorii!" The wriggling dog's tail wagged as she cuddled her. "I've missed you, sweet girl." She set the dog down and watched her attack a stick. 

"Ben Solo, meet Poe Dameron. And this is his fiancé, Kaydel Ko Connix."

"Holy shit. I’m sorry, I mean it’s nice to meet you." Poe gripped his hand in greeting, Ben gripped harder.

Kaydel seemed less fazed. "I'm glad to finally meet you. I'm sorry we missed your Artist Workshop. Pelli said it was great." She extended her small hand. 

"Kaydel works at the Art Museum," Rey explained. 

"Just part time. I’m a Preparator and aspiring Registrar. Poe said you have an Yves Klein."

"A pair of globes and a torso. That sounds suggestive, doesn’t it?" Ben said, turning up the charm. 

"Holy shit, you have 3?!" Poe picked up the dog by the armpits and stared at its wide eyes. It snorted and sneezed repeatedly into Poe's face. 

Ben watched with amusement as Poe wiped a web of dog snot off his jacket. Zorii launched herself at at tree, barking at a bird. A squirrel hopped past her and the dog spun around, getting her leg stuck in her sweater. 

"You poor thing.' Zorii flopped down on her back for Rey to rub her belly. Rey pulled the small dog's leg out of the sweater. She looked up as a Jeep pulled up. "Oh look, there’s Rose."

Rose walked toward them, pulling two sleds. 

Finn had stopped to take pictures of the snowy landscape.

Rose paced quickened, a smile plastered on her face. "I need you guys to be supportive and not ruin this for me." She clenched her teeth in a smile. "I mean it, bitch." 

"Are you talking to me?” Ben looked around, checking to see if there was someone behind him. "Am I in trouble?" 

"No Ben Solo, I don't even know what you're doing here. I was mainly talking to Poe." She pulled open her collar to reveal a large necklace. "Finn's Nana gave me a this beautiful piece of jewelry this morning." The name Rose was written in cursive letters. 

Rey squinted. "What's that giant character beside the E?"

She closed her eyes, trying hard not to laugh. "It's Mandarin for Rose. Guys, Finn's Nana thinks I'm Chinese." 

"My god. No she doesn't."

"Kaydel, tell me this necklace is not real."

Kaydel leaned closer. "No, it's real gold. And the polka-dots are garnets and emeralds. Your birth month and his." Kaydel sighed. 

Rose hiccuped a laugh. "She was so excited to give it to me."

"I'm so sorry, Rose. It’s hideous."

"So, my brand new reality is that I have to wear this fugly necklace for as long as I date Finn." 

Rose looked over Kaydel's head. "Shit, he's coming. Act natural. Look Finn - Ben Solo is here!"

Finn's handsome face shifted into a mild grimace. "Oh hey, man."

Ben shook Finn's hand. "Hi, we were just admiring Rose's necklace. It's tremendous."

"Thanks. Are you here with Poe?"

"No, Rey is going to be housesitting for me."

Rose turned to Rey. "Ummm. When did this happen?" 

"Well, I did a studio visit with Rey and we got to talking about my Mom's house which is sitting empty. I’ve been concerned about the elderly neighbor who has been watching her cats." 

Rey bit her lip. It all sounded so logical when Ben said it. He made it sound casual and normal. She enjoyed her friend's star struck expressions around Ben. They'd been too intimidated to interact with him in person and now they were comparing cheap sleds, all trying to act natural. If she wasn't mistaken, Ben seemed to be enjoying the attention. 

☾

Any trepidation Rey had about meeting Ben meeting her friends vanished quickly. Poe and Ben had rushed to a small hill, trying to figure out how to ride sleds standing up. 

"Hey Solo, good catch on the tomato." Poe's smooth voice dripped with sarcasm. 

Rey watched Ben's posture stiffen.

"That was you?" Ben pretended to act surprised. His voice was even, emotionless.

"I thought you’d think it was funny. I wanted to throw a vase because your work so directly references Ai Weiwei’s Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn."

Ben's jaw relaxed. "Not everybody sees the connection in my work."

"I told Poe thought he should throw a tomato instead. A vase might've actually hurt you." Kaydel explained. 

‘The only way of building a new world is by destroying the old one, right?’ Poe quoted Ai Weiwei. "You were honoring the past by destroying it."

Ben grinned. "Will you marry me, Poe Dameron?" 

"Sorry, I’m taken."

Kaydel shrugged. "I'll trade him for an Yves Klein globe."

☾

Ben set a blue plastic sled down in the snow in front of Rey's feet. It threatened to slide down the hill without them at any moment. He held it steady and motioned for Rey to get on. "Why library science? It seems like a pain in the ass major."

"What’s wrong with being a librarian?" Rey snapped. She sat down in the sled awkwardly, tucking her knees up in front of her. A moment later, she felt Ben’s body weight behind her.

"Nothing. Why does me asking make you mad?"

"It sounds like you're mocking me." She didn't want to turn around.

He leaned forward. His voice was low and soft. "I apologize, I'm not mocking you. I’m curious why you’re double majoring."

She finally forced herself turned to look at him. His eyes held boyish uncertainty. She could see the insecure 15 year old from the Elizabeth Peyton drawing was still there. Her voice softened.  "When I was in high school, there was this great guy at our library named Mr. Jinn. He was an artist and played cool music all the time. I mean, all anyone really has to do is show up. Kids need someone who shows up and does what they’re supposed to. Like my job; all I have to do is show up and not be as scary as the people at home and the kids love me."

Without warning, Ben pushed the sled forward and suddenly they were flying. Cold air rushed into her lungs and laughter broke free from inside her. Halfway down the hill, the sled began to tilt and tipped over. Rey pitched forward into the snow. Ben tumbled onto her back, pressing her face into the snow. His warmth was everywhere. As he sat up, his breath ghosted over the back of Rey's neck.  "Are you OK?"

She wiped snow out of her eyes and looked up at his worried expression. The cold had stopped mattering; she wanted to stay in this spot forever. She stretched out in the snow and looked up at the tree branches. He flopped down beside her, side by side. Rey could tell that her friends were watching them but she didn't care.

"Tell me more about the library," he said.

She adjusted her snow crusted scarf. "Mr. Jinn helped me so much. He told me I should go to college. He helped me put together a portfolio and talked to me about art. Not just Monet or Van Gogh but like, the challenging contemporary art like Marina Abramović and Tehching Hsieh."

"Mr. Jinn sounds pretty awesome."

"I hung out at the library all the time because I hated going home. I mainly lived with my cousin Plutt who was a metal scrapper. He was like 25 and never around, which was fine. But sometimes Grandfather came by looking for a ride or someone to make deliveries. They called him The Chemist because he cut stuff like ketamine and fentanyl. He was the scariest person I’ve ever known in my life. He wore this Grandpa of the Year hat, which he must have bought for himself. We lived in total fear of him. He used to tell me that if I made him mad that he’d kill me in my sleep and make it look like an accident. 'I’ll see you in the morning, Pig. Or will I?' And then he’d laugh."

The big, bad wolf. Ben felt the world grow silent. Nothing but her voice mattered. 

Rey nodded. "My Grandfather came looking for me in the library after school, he was all strung out. I hid in the bathroom which was a huge mistake. He punched Mr. Jinn in the face. It was awful. And it was all my fault.”

"It’s not your fault -"

"Mr. Jinn quit and I decided to call the County Drug Tip Hotline." She looked at him proudly. "My Grandfather almost beat me and my cousin Plutt to death but it was worth it. He’s in jail because of me.” She held up two hands. “8 years and counting. Hopefully, he’ll die in jail."

Ben studied her face. Her eyes were cold and steely. "So you’re going to take Mr. Jinn’s place at the library?"

"Yes, I am." She looked over at her friends. Poe was trying to put the dog on the sled but Zorii bit the rope handle and shook it mightily. "They don't know about my Grandfather. I'd appreciate it if you don't say anything.”

He nodded. Ben wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away from the entire world. He wanted to hold her but she looked like she'd hit him if he tried. Instead, he grabbed the sled by the rope handle. He started back up the hill. "Do you want to go again?" 

“Yeah.” Rey watched Ben stomp through the snow. She liked that he hadn’t asked too many questions. He turned and stared back at her, the same intense expression as before. What she’d told him hadn’t changed the way he looked at her.

☾

Chapter Text

Rey sorted books by reading level. The hour before school dismissal was her favorite time. Getting the library’s teen space ready for the afternoon was soothing. She  couldn’t control what had happened to the kids during the day or after they left but she could control the variables at the library. She always wiped the tables with lavender scented cleaner, she always played strange music, she always had granola bars from the FoodPantry. 

She knew some of her freshman students needed to do reports  about WWII. She reminded herself to make a display of graphic novels set during the time period.

Rose was clearing off the table they used for informal art lessons. Most of their students came to play Roblox or watch YouTube but occasionally students would wander over to where Rey set up art supplies. “Is today colored pencils?”

”Yeah, we have these cool watercolor pencils I get at the FreeStore. Someone donated a mountain of them. We just need to be careful sharpening them because they’re so brittle.” 

Rey pulled out a tray of brushes with a sigh. So many of them disappeared every week. She knew her students didn’t have art supplies at home so she tried to be optimistic about the constant theft.

Rey had stolen when she was younger. Each small theft had become a treasure to her; a reminder that the outside world existed. She would make up stories, elaborate fantasies where her Mother had been an artist. Rey had kept her stolen brushes and pens in a special box she had decorated with sequins. She had painstakingly spelled out the word daughter.

“So you're housesitting for the crown prince of darkness?” Rose interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s not like he wears a cape or anything. I think I might actually like his artwork. Have you seen those blood paintings of his Dad?” 

“Yeah, there's two in Hux's office. Those are like 40,000 a piece. And they're teeny tiny. Rose looked around, making sure none of the library staff was listening. “It’s sort of nuts that Hux keeps stuff that valuable in his office. Is it weird thinking about being in his Mom's house, surrounded by crazy expensive-ass art?”

“I'm taking care of his Mother's cats. He's so concerned about them. I think it's kind of sweet.”

“So, this is a house he's going to move into that he's never visited before. And cats that he's super concerned about but never met before yesterday?”

”Correct.”

“Does anything sound strange about that?”

“Maybe?”

“Ben Solo cut a culturally significant artwork into little pieces. Which he was arrested for, so he has a criminal record.”

“He was arrested but the charges were dismissed. I looked it up.”

“Never mind, ReyRey, I'm glad you're out of the studio and up living up on the hill.”

Rey's eyes lit up. “The house is so amazing. I keep waiting for him to say some bizarre shit like he expects me to drink his pee or eat crayons while he masterbates.” 

“I love the way your mind works.” 

☾

“What do you think?”

Ben and Hux stood in the doorway of Leia’s Gallery. Hux’s hand hovered over the light switch for a moment before he let it fall. Maybe it was better to let it stay dark. Their steps echoed on the polished concrete floor. 

“When did my Mom redo the floor?”

“Leia thought the wood was starting to warp.”

Ben’s heart raced. He felt like he was walking backwards into a dream. He had spent so much time here as a child and so very little as an adult. Everything seemed empty and worn down. He hated seeing scuffs on the walls, hated the faded wall vinyl. Ben hesitated to venture any further inside feeling like his Mother was going to walk through the door any minute and offer up an icy stare of disapproval.

“I'm a shitty son. I'm a horrible, shitty person.”

Ben leaned against the stark white gallery wall. Hux didn't try to talk Ben out of his mood. He knew his friend's anguish ran too deep to smooth away the edges. There were undercurrents of pain that would need to ebb and flow. It wouldn't help to say that everything was going to be OK. His pain wouldn’t go away with a few nice words.

The Resistance Gallery had been Leia’s second home. Her castle. The gallery had an open layout, for rotating exhibits,  and a large loft office. Her permanent collection dominated the loft’s limited wall space. And spilled into the built in bookshelves.

She had started her gallery before Luke had become successful and kept it running until she the day she died. 

Maz had told him that Leia’s last message was to her gallery assistant, reminding her to pay for repair of a painting. It shook him to the core to think that his Mother’s last thoughts had been about some damaged painting.

“What’s your stress level, Solo?”

“A solid 11. Do you think I should take Rey dinner at work? She’s at the downtown library until 8.”

“You’re going to the airport.”

“I don't have to be there until midnight. Did I tell you she’s moving in?”

Hux sighed. “Umm, yes. Twice. And to clarify, housesitting is not the same as dating.”

“For now. Where would you go for vegan carryout? Is Karmash still open? We could swing by there.”

Hux studied his friend. Standing in the dark gallery, Ben seemed to be slowly inching toward the door. His shoulders seemed folded in, like he was trying to make himself smaller and smaller. “Remember the Grand Canyon? How you got obsessed with us riding those little mules down to the bottom.”

Ben glanced at the photos of Rey’s driver’s licenses he'd taken while she slept. “I wouldn't say that I was obsessed.”

Hux narrowed his eyes.

”OK.” Ben conceded. “I made reservations two years in advance, only to be told at the last minute that I'm too heavy to ride a fucking mule.”

“It said the weight limit on their website.”

Ben frowned. “I was not technically over the weight limit. They should have let me take off my clothes when they weighed me."

"Your Mother had just died and you put all your energy into obsessing over those damn creatures. They probably slaughtered their entire stable of mules and shuttered their business just to get away from you.”

“So, you don't think I should take Rey dinner at work? I could just stop in to say hi. Who's to say I don't need a book to read on the plane?” 

“You have a long history of distracting yourself and falling into obsessive mindsets.”

Ben didn't flinch. “But it's never been about a woman before so that's good, right?"

"Well, it’s never been a woman you had a chance with."

”Who are you talking about?”

"Mila Kunis?"

“That could have worked out.”

Hux rolled his eyes. “You met her once at an art opening and she was there with her husband."

"I bought Rey a bicycle. I hope they took the tags off of it so she doesn't find out it's new. Oh geezus, I forgot to buy her a bike lock.”

Hux sighed, exasperated. “Let's go in the office and make sure the Piccinini sculpture isn’t being used as a doorstop. You’re need to get an inventory of all this shit. And the stuff in storage. Geezus, that Anselm Kiefer straw painting is probably home to the Rats from NIMH.”

Ben’s brow creased in concentration. “She lent that piece to Luke. It’s in New York.”

Hux relaxed slightly. At least his friend was capable of obsessing on something work related.

Ben checked his phone for messages from Rey. "I just met one of your grad students named Kaydel something or other who’s doing preparator work. Do you think I should hire her to inventory my Mom's stuff?

"Kaydel swears like redneck on PCP but she’s very trust worthy."

"I thought you didn't trust the rich kids.”

“Eh, she'd be more likely to break in and organize your bookshelves. Let's go to one of those fried cheese places. Kaluumi or whatever they’re calling fried cheese.”

“Halloumi is state fair food. Hux, you'll end up in the ER if you eat fried cheese. Let's go to that weird little sandwich place you like.”

Hux pouted. “Fine but I'm getting sweet potato fries and I have no intention of sharing.”

“Fine. I'll get my own fucking fries.”

“Phasma has plans to sign us up for a triathlon.”

"That seems like the sort of thing that I'd have to sign a waiver for or something."

"She has your social security number and she can copy your signature flawlessly. There's really no stopping her."

"Maybe I'll lose enough weight to ride those fucking mules. I can get down to 180 again."

"Your bones alone weigh 180 pounds." Hux turned on the gallery lights and they walked to Leia's office. "Remember to weigh yourself at night and while you're wearing clothes."

"That mule lady was so strict about weighing me with all my clothes on." 

"I don't think she enjoyed being called Mule Lady and honestly, it's not like they were going to let us ride the mules naked down into the Grand Canyon."

Ben grinned. "We would have been majestic, wouldn't we?"

Ben stared at Leia's desk. Her house had been devoid of family pictures but her desk was covered with photos of Ben and Han. His parents wedding picture stared back and him and he felt himself crumble. He sat down on her desk and closed his eyes.

"How am I going to do this, Hux? How am I going to run my Mother’s gallery?"

☾

Ben had stopped by the pharmacy for antacid for Hux before driving him home. His heart hummed happily looking at the take out bag in the backseat. He would take the avocado sandwich to Rey and give her a ride home from work. And then - he wasn't sure what would happen then. He remembered how she seemed so hesitant to sit on the sled next to him. He would need to figure out how to earn her affection. 

Hux ran past Phasma into the house, clutching his stomach. 

Phasma met Ben's eyes slowly. "What on earth did he eat?"

"He had a sip of my milkshake - well, most of it. He did take one of those lactose pills if that helps to know."

Ben waited for Phasma’s lecture but she stared down at her feet. "Did you look at that name I gave you? Sheev Palpatine?"

"I forgot. I'm sorry."

"That's OK. You'll have plenty of time when you get back to New York. Do you need a ride to the airport or anything?"

Ben shook his head. "No. I've got the rental car." 

Phasma continued to look down. "I think he’s cheating on me."

"Hux? No. No way. Not a chance."

Phasma's lips twitched. "You didn’t even hesitate before you answered."

"I’ve known Hux for almost 20 years. He’s my best friend."

Tears welled up in Phasma’s eyes. "I don't know what's going on with him; he’s so distant. He smells weird. He says it’s from the studio but it’s not. And he hides in the basement, staying up late doing god knows what. He’s secretive and moody."

"Phas, he’s starving on this diet."

"His father died at the same age, I’m trying to help him be healthy."

Ben pressed his lips together. He twisted his sleeve like Rey, the gesture connecting him to her. "The basement is me; we play Minecraft together online."

Phasma frowned. "What’s Minecraft?"

"It’s a video game. You like, build stuff out of blocks and blow it up or whatever. We’re making this really massive Zaha Hadid museum. It’s relaxing. And - um, the smell  is clove cigarettes."

"What are you 17?” she hesitated. “And why didn’t he tell me about the Minecraft? It sounds somewhat educational." 

"It’s all good Phas, he's not cheating on you. You're the best thing that ever happened to him and he knows it. He always says that you getting knocked up was like winning the Lotto for him."

"We weren't even dating." She crossed her arms, a frown on her face. “I got to travel so much when I was modeling. God, I was so pretty back then."

"Phas, you're gorgeous and you always will be. You could harvest all the organs in Hux's body, one by one and he'd give them to you freely."

She sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "I just feel like it’s me against them. They run off and do their stupid secret boy stuff. Like right now, they’re doing yoga and I’m never invited."

Ben looked up at the flickering lights in Cosimo’s room. He could hear the calming loop of Minecraft music. 

He could feel the waves of Phasma’s despair . "Maybe you could ease up a little, Phas? Not be so strict?"

Phasma's lips quivered. "I have to be strict because if I’m not, no one will be. I can’t let go because if I do, everything is going to fall apart. No one will remember to give the dog his heartworm pills, Atticus will be illiterate, Cosimo will become a serial killer."

Ben gave her a skeptical look.

"And Hux will have a heart attack at 39 like his father and I’ll be all alone."

Ben inhaled slowly. There it was. Hux had never told her how his father really died. "Hux is not going to have a heart attack."

"You don’t know that."

"Come here." Ben hugged her. “See, you should have gone out with me instead. I would have made a brilliant husband." 

"I love you Solo, but you're an absolute mess and you always have been. Plus, I like redheads. I should have gone after one of those fellows from the Harry Potter movies."

☾

Rey looked up from her painting to see her student volunteer, D'Shauna watching the library front door nervously. "Miss Rey, that man is asking for ya."

Rey followed her to the door where Ben stood carrying a brown bag.

"What are you doing here?" She stomped on his toe as he started toward the art table. "Not a toe over this line, Mister. This section is teens only."

Unfazed, Ben cocked his head. "What are you listening to? Are you playing Bela Legosi is Dead for little kids?"

D'Shauna returned. "Is he bothering you, Miss Rey?"

A smaller, petite girl with long braids came and stood beside her. "Is that your boyfriend Miss Rey?"

“No.”

Ben frowned at Rey's quick dismissal of him. 

“Ben Solo, this is Qira””

“Whatcha gonna get Miss Rey for her birthday” 

“He’s on his way out of town. Leaving tonight.” Rey explained.

Ben was suddenly fascinated. “February 22nd, correct? Do you happen to know what Miss Rey wants."

"She wants pictures. She always likes when we make her pictures. But you gotta draw for real. No tracing.” D'Shauna warned him.

☾

Rey had herded Ben back to the library vestibule. The students watched him like predators. "They're staring at us."

"I don't have a lot of gentleman callers." She said in a lilting voice. 

"That’s good news for me. Can I drive you home?” Ben failed to keep eagerness out of his voice.

"I work for another hour."

He nodded. "I know; I can wait.”

She clutched at her paintbrush. "Don’t you have anything else to do?"

"No. I mean yes but nothing important.  I have a lot of emails to return."

"60 minutes, OK?"

"As you wish."

Chapter Text

Ben had not waited an hour. He had reappeared in the library after 30 minutes with a sandwich wrapped in fancy wax paper.

The teenagers who came to hang out at the library after school tended to leave around 7; walking home or drifting away to the bus stop outside. They weren’t the type of clients that were picked up by parents. Her library patrons were mainly neighborhood kids who were going home to an evening of screen time and empty refrigerators. As such, there were no witnesses as Ben Solo, acclaimed contemporary artist, rinsed out paint brushes for Rey. 

He watched with concern as she disassembled her sandwich.

“Did they put cheese on it by mistake? I can take it back.” Or burn the fucking restaurant down to the ground. He had specifically said no cheese. 

“No.” She smiled. “I just- I thought I’d save half of it for breakfast tomorrow.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. There was no food in his mother’s house. He’d spent the entire day dicking around and had not even given it a thought. How the fuck was he going to get her to fall in love with him if she accidentally starved to death first?

She interrupted his thoughts with a smile. “Hey, how did you know my birthday was February 22nd?”

His eyes shifted up. “Your birthday is on the wall calendar; Miss Rey’s birthday.” And I took a picture of your drivers license. While you were asleep. As well as a 4 minute video.

“Oh.” She took the brushes from him and put them into an old coffee can.

“I know your age, your birthday, your major and I could probably guess your shoe size. 9?”

“8 1/2,” she corrected him. “Are you hoping to alarm me?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

She laughed. “You're a ridiculous man, you know that?”

“That’s what they say in the papers,” he deadpanned. That wasn’t what the papers said at all. The New York Times had labeled him as a sulking monster, Vanity Fair called him an art world cannibal. He swallowed back those insults as he sorted colored pencils, sharpening them and lining them up in a perfect row.

“Why are you doing this?” Rey stood behind him.

”Uh.”

“I mean all this bringing me dinner, waiting around?” Rey challenged. “Aren’t there any charities in New York?” 

”I find you fascinating.”

She laughed. “Then I just feel sorry for you because I’m nothing special.”

Ben was suddenly in her space. He was too large, too close. “If you had any idea how much time I’ve been thinking about you, I think you would be concerned.” 

She shrugged, “You’re leaving tonight, you won’t give me a second thought once you’re back in New York.”

Ben smiled sadly. His perfect girl was so accustomed to disappointment that even he might stand a chance. 

☾

Rey turned off the lights and locked up. Ben’s heart hummed happily as he imagined this being the way he ended his evenings. He would arrange his teaching schedule around hers. His life could easily wrap around hers. He could bring her dinner every night and help her close up. 

He wanted to buy her a car so she’d also have the option of getting away from him when he got too clingy. He would convince her to make use of his mother’s old Saab. Surely at least one of his Mother’s cats needed to go to the vet or get their teeth cleaned? Rey would look cute in Mini-Cooper but it might draw too much attention in this part of town. Maybe he could get the Saab repainted to match her eyes.

They walked to his rental car and he opened the car door for her, imagining how she would look in a vintage Volkswagen Bug. Maybe a used Prius?

“Why are you mumbling about a Prius?”

Had he started thinking out loud again? He talked to himself it all the time in New York, where there was no downside to acting strange in public. No one would give a flying fuck if you talked to yourself, wore a Darth Vader costume or set yourself on fire. Now they he was back in the Midwest, he had to remember that odd behavior was catalogued.  

“Did you know that our birthdays are exactly 6 months apart?” He blurted out. “And we’re six years apart? Six plus six equals twelve and then the 1 and 2 reduce to 3 which in numerology is the number of balance partnership and polarity.”

“Now you’re just trying to show off your weirdness. So I’m a Pisces and you’re a Leo? Let’s look it up. Oh shit, we are a terrible match!”

She’d talked the entire drive to Leia’s house, reading out loud from astrology sites. They were doomed; a legendary mismatch. He couldn’t keep his eyes on the road. He loved her smile, the dimples that disappeared far too quickly. Even as she logically explained the reasons that they would cause each other untold misery, he imagined them growing old together. 

☾

They sat on opposite ends of the sectional. Leia’s house was still too cold. She was curled into the corner of the couch. “Poe said you’re closing Luke’s gallery in Brooklyn. I was reading about it online.” The orange cat, BB8, curled up behind her.

“I have to close it. There’s no way I can do what he did. I've been doing the physical day to day stuff but I suck at selling to his collectors. They’re too rich, too demanding. I’d rather have it close than run it into the ground.”

“I guess that's practical but it’s kind of sad.”

He grabbed a fluffy blanket and draped it over Rey’s legs.  “I had to choose between Luke’s gallery and my Mom’s.”

“Wait - You’re going to run your mom’s gallery? Here in Illium?”

“That’s my plan,” he said with more confidence than he felt.

“I can’t believe you’re going from NYC to here? That's seems crazy.”

“It’s crazy to think of me becoming the face of the Skywalker Gallery.” He shook his head. “I've polluted my Uncle's memory every single time I've set foot in his gallery. Luke was a hero to the art world. He was somebody people could look up to, somebody artists admired, somebody collectors wanted to buy art from. I need his gallery to close so people remember it for what it was, not let his legacy dim because of the shadow I’m casting over it.”

Rey was caught off guard by ferocity in his voice. “You're not a villain, Ben.”

“I am Luke’s villian. And I won't let allow people to view me as his sucessor. Because it will look like I won. And my Uncle deserves better.” 

“I thought you hated him.”

“No. Sorry to disappoint you.”

The two cats, R2D2 and C3PO appeared on the back of the couch. Ben let the cats sniff his hand, trying to look at their collars. Did it say anything about shots on their tags? He wondered if they’d bite if he attempted to check their dental hygiene. He caught a glimpse of himself and Rey in the reflection of the living room window. They looked like a real couple. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Ben’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Cutting up the painting was Luke’s idea.”

“What?!”

“We talked about it for years.” Ben explained. “What it would symbolize, what messages it would send but he wanted me to cut up the portrait of me.”

“The Elizabeth Peyton?! You were going to cut that up!” Rey glanced over at the drawing of Ben as a teenager. It was quickly becoming her favorite artwork. 

“I changed my mind at the last minute - I couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t want to do it. It felt shitty to be a guy cutting up a drawing by a female artist. But Luke’s gallery represented Peyton, at the time, and he knew the publicity would drive up her prices. He kept pushing me until I freaked out and cut up his painting instead.”

“Holy shit. And nobody else knows about this?”

“I didn’t want to tell my Mom because she immediately took Luke’s side without even talking to me. His work was so important to her.”

Rey’s mind was spinning. “Luke had you arrested. He did his TEDtalk about the insincerity of your artwork, he called you a mediawhore. My god, how did it get so out of control?”

Ben stretched his arms over the back of the couch. “The whole thing was like this distorted mask that I eventually grew into.”

Rey thought of the angry voices at his lecture, the way he’d broken down at the mention of his father’s death, the magazine articles, Luke’s lecture series. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could have stopped it all if you had just explained what happened.”

“Luke could have explained it too. Or at least explain it to my Mom.” He sighed. “It sounds so stupid now but when my Dad said he was coming to Positino, I thought Luke had finally told them the truth. I thought everything was forgiven.”

“Did he tell them?”

“Nope. And I dug in because I felt like my Mother was choosing Luke over me. Even after he died, his legacy was the most important thing in the world to her.” Ben’s expression was stoic.

“I’m really sorry.”

He shrugged. “It made my career.”

”Your parents stopped talking to you! Your Uncle demonized you in the art world.”

“Here’s the crazy thing. After everything we did to each other, Luke left his entire estate to me.”

“What?”

Ben gathered R2D2, the gray cat, on his lap. “I know. I was shocked. His art collection, the gallery, all the licensing for all his work, which is a full time job. His lawyer said he changed his will a month before his heart attack. His gallery and Leia’s were so intertwined, I think it was his way of making sure we had to communicate with each other.”

“The gallery has stayed open since he died. I never heard anything about you running it. Or that you were even involved.”

Ben tried to discreetly lift a corner of the cat’s mouth and was greeted with a hiss. “I had his gallery manager keeping things going but he's retiring. I can't do it without him. Or maybe I don't want to. When my Mom died, I realized that I didn't want to keep trying.” 

“How does it work, closing it?” Rey smiled as the cat batted at Ben’s hair.

"I have a meeting at 10 am to tell the gallery staff that the official closing is in a month. Then I have to dissolve the Skywalker Foundation. I wish my Mom and I could have done this together."

Rey had an impulse to touch him, to reach out in some way. "She didn't want you to know she had cancer?" 

"When she finally told me she was sick, it was too late. I always thought there'd be more time to figure out our relationship. I thought - I don't know. I thought I'd meet someone and start a family and then she'd have to forgive me.”

Rey couldn't help but laugh. "You'd have children to manipulate your Mother into forgiving you?” 

"No but I knew she couldn't stay mad at me forever. And my children couldn't possibly be as much of a disappointment to her as I was.”

She shook her head. "Dark stuff, Solo.” Rey’s eyes strayed to the wall clock. She knew Ben had to leave for the airport soon. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and comfort him. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and suggest sex. Quick mindless sex. Her eyes fixed on the creases of his jeans. She could imagine the sweat on his thick arms, his lips and teeth attacking her neck. She would push his jeans down past his hips-

"Rey?”

He was talking but she had been imagining him naked. "What was that?” 

Ben watched in wonder as a flush spread across Rey's cheeks. "I asked when you broke up with Poe.”

"Um fall. I mean, September.” 

"Do you miss him?”

Rey played with her earrings, trying to push thoughts of sex out of her mind. "I miss Poe's family but when it happened, I was relieved.”

"Why?”

Rey looked down at the cat in her lap. Her memory flashed back to hiding out in Poe's Mother's kitchen, rewashing dishes to avoid socializing with his extended family. "It was hard pretending to be something I wasn’t.”

"What does that mean?” 

She finally looked up. “I wasn't someone who belonged in a family. His family had all these dinners and parties and trips to Hilton Head. I felt like I was on a sitcom and I was the only thing ruining it. I don’t mean that in a sad way - I just don’t know how to be a sister or a daughter or girlfriend.”

"I don’t think that can be anything but sad, Rey.”

Rey set her chin defensively. She hated pity. "What about you and office worker. That sounds very modern. Did you meet on tinder?”

"Yes. I had known her before. Kinda a friend of a friend." His voice was flat. "I don’t know if I want to talk about this.”

She didn't want to talk about it either but it gave her a slight thrill to push him away. Pain was easier than the alternative. "So is your relationship standard sex or do you pretend to be her boss and punish her for writing bad reports?”

He met the challenge in her eyes. "Nothing imaginative like that. She does wear underwear that I like.” 

"Which is?”

"Black.” His voice was cold.

"I'm disappointed. That seems kind of basic as far as fantasies go.”

“Get used to disappointment.” He hoped to distract her with Princess Bride quotes. 

She wasn't sure why she couldn't stop herself from pushing. "So was it a standing appointment or do you wake up one morning and decide that it's a good day to fuck her on her desk?”

"Sometimes under her desk. Sometimes it's against the door. Do you want me to stop seeing her?” 

"No, not at all. I want you to keep doing whatever makes you happy.” 

“I’m not happy.” His wide lips twitched. 

"Well, don't change your life on my account." Rey said sharply.

“I want to change my life because of you. I’d rather miss my flight and stay up all night talking to you. This is the only place I want to be.” His voice strained.

His eyes searched hers. She didn't want to feel anything, she wanted to push him away so when he left it wouldn't mean anything. But there was something in his expression that held her rooted in place. He was going to physically leave but she could sense that he wasn't truly going anywhere. The strange way he looked at her in the art studio - the openness, the longing, the look of recognition - had become permanent. Suddenly she felt gravity shift.

Her fluctuating perception of him had changed as well. He wasn't the imposing Ben Solo from the lecture or the man who had stood with his arms crossed as he criticized her artwork. He wasn't the distant face on the cover of ArtForum. This was a different person. This was the man from Elizabeth Peyton drawing; fear and hope dwelling in his dark eyes, lips closed but ready to share sweet words. He looked sad and scared and like he wanted to kiss her.

An alarm sounded on his phone but he was frozen in space.

"You need to go. Your flight." Rey whispered.

"I don’t want to leave."

"I wish you didn't have to go. I wish I knew your face better." She repeated the same words he'd texted her.

Ben watched in awe as a wide smile spread across Rey’s face. She was starting to like him. His face ached, realizing that he was smiling back. 

She stood up abruptly. "I'll walk you out.”

"I don't care about missing my flight."

"You have appointments in the morning. I have school."

His hands checked his own pockets as he gathered his things. And walked out. "You have the keys to the backdoor? The Saab, just in case?"

"Yes." She slipped in the snow.

He steadied her by the elbow. Her arms reached out to him of their own accord, her hand clamped down on his forearm. There were so many feelings all at once. He was warm and solid, he smelled like laundry detergent and cinnamon. Her hand slipped down the length of his arm and her hand brushed against his. As they walked out to his rental car, his pinky finger hooked around hers. 

As he opened the door, her hand reached out and brushed along the front neckline of his sweater. His breath caught the same moment his phone fell from his pocket, the screen cracking as it on the pavement. He growled and batted at his phone. "Fuck!" His voice echoed on the quiet street. 

Rey pulled her finger away from his. She shoved her hands into her coat pocket for good measure. "It’s been nice meeting you, Ben Solo."

Ben couldn’t think of anything to say. He was overwhelmed, his mind completely blank. "Goodbye, Rey."

Chapter Text

Phasma woke up to the sound of Hux whispering. She had fallen asleep on the couch, her head resting on a throw pillow, her husband’s arms clutched around her waist. Over the years, she had adjusted to the way he clung to her while she slept; attached to her like velcro. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.” Hux replied.

“Why are you still up?” She had fallen asleep watching Game of Thrones but woke to find Hux watching an episode of Antiques Roadshow on mute. She sighed when she saw who he was talking to.

“Ben’s at the airport, he got in a fight.” Hux said.

She sat up. “Oh my god. What happened?”

Hux’s eyes sparkled, unable to conceal his delight. “Improbably, the manager at the car rental place recognized him from Luke’s TedTalk.”

Phasma gaped. “Why are you smiling about that?”

Ben’s low voice spoke through the screen. “This is the Midwest, you’d think people would universally want me to destroy anti-papal art.”

“Are you ok?”

“He’s having a minor meltdown,” Hux explained. “He has a meeting with the Skywalker Foundation tomorrow and he is going to have a black eye.” 

“It will give them something to focus on while he tells them that he’s closing the gallery.” She tried to sound positive.

“Good point.” Hux chuckled for a moment before Phasma elbowed him. “Perhaps it will appease them if they think somebody has kicked your ass in advance.”

“I dropped him, Huxy.” Ben’s voice turned arrogant. “You should have seen me. I was like a rugby player, I totally took him down. There were brochures and pens everywhere. It was so great.”

“Ben, I can sign you up for a mixed martial arts cardio class.” Phasma interjected helpfully. “It’s the same teacher as our spin class.”

“I hate that guy,” Hux pouted. “He’s always trying to touch you and make it seem instructional .”

“You’re just jealous because I get to be in the front row.”

“Words can’t convey how very pleased I am to be seated directly behind you. Your ass makes the class bearable.” 

Phasma rolled her eyes at Hux as he detangled himself from her arms.

“Cup of tea, my love?”

She nodded. Her voice took on a soothing tone. “Ben honey, did you get kicked out of the airport?”

“No. There were a bunch of people who saw the car rental guy go apeshit. He came over the counter like in a zombie movie.” 

“Oh Ben, why does this stuff always happen to you? Show me your eye.”

Ben pulled the small ice pack away from his face, showing off his swelling eye. 

“On the plus side, the airport police guy showed me this app that helps you be a better boyfriend. It’s called HeroBoyfriend. Like it has a schedule for how often to send messages and give gifts.”

Hux handed Phasma a cup of chamomile tea. “You are not dating that poor girl. Rey is housesitting for you.” Hux snapped.

“Go to bed honey, I’ve got this.” Phasma squeezed his hand.

“But there's something incredibly depressing about needing an app to be nice to your girlfriend,” Hux said.

“Ben doesn’t need help being attentive, he needs guidance in order to conduct a healthy human relationship. The app suggesting for him to send flowers might prevent him from buying her a jet ski.”

“I want a jet ski.” Hux grumbled.

“Get some sleep dear. I don’t have to work until 10.” 

Hux leaned over and kissed her between the eyes. “You are now, and will forever be a goddess.”

“Go to bed, Huxy.”

“You deserve a million jet skis.” Hux mumbled as he shuffled back to the kitchen to start the dishwasher.

He marveled at his wife who was able to reason with Ben when he would have hung up on him.

“…I think the app is designed for people who are in established relationships. It’s like ideas for fun dates and gift ideas.”

He could hear Ben, sounding comically boyish. “Is it too soon for jewelry?”

“Yes Ben, it’s a bit too soon.”

“This app says I should send flowers in 2 to 3 days but I don’t think she seems like the flower type.”

“We’ll figure out something.”

☾

Ben and Hux had met in detention as high school freshman. Ben was a regular fixture at detention, having received two solid months for pulling the fire alarm before a pep-rally. Hux had gotten caught looking up prostitutes on a school computer. The two had known each other from the swim team but had never been friends. No one was really friends with Ben Solo. He got in fights, smoked and was the worst swimmer on the team. Hux wasn’t the best but he wasn’t the worst. He aimed for the middle. He tried his hardest to be invisible. 

After a fall semester filled with funeral arrangements, worthless grief counselors and surrounded by a wall of pity, Hux had become increasingly detached from his grade school friends. He’d stare at screens while they played Call of Duty or watched Saw movies. The advantage of having vapid friends was that they didn’t notice if he cried during commercials. There was an ad for Kraft macaroni and cheese that never failed to set him off. A single mom and her son. If his vacant eyed friends noticed anything, they would assume he missed his father, not that he was overwhelmed by relief. 

Unfortunately, Ben Solo noticed everything; he studied Hux like an insect. They had been placed at tables alphabetically by first name. No one had listened when he suggested using last names instead. Hux hoped to be put at a table by himself so he could draw in peace. He wanted to get out his good markers without anyone noticing. There were only six kids in detention and their teacher was zoned out, reading Twilight with a far away look on his face.

Hux drew quietly and stealth-ate pretzels leftover from his lunch.

“What are you drawing?” Ben Solo managed to somehow be simultaneously annoyed and annoying. 

“We’re not supposed to talk to each other.” Hux had whispered back.

Ben squinted at his sketchbook, upside down. “What’s that character from?”

Hux shrugged. “I don’t know.” In truth, Hux had an entire cast of characters he liked to draw. His own world with his own cast of characters. A team of merciful executioners who hunted down and killed those who most deserved to die.

Hux recoiled as Ben yanked the sketchbook out of his hands. He slumped in his seat and stared out the window, preparing to endure humiliation. It was, he reasoned, his own fault for drawing in public.

“These are good.” Ben said simply as he flipped through the pages. “I wish I could draw like this.” He casually stole one of Hux’s pretzels. 

And then Ben started digging through his own backpack for a stack of graphic novels. Ben had Watchmen, Maus, and Persepolis. Hux’s taste was more eclectic: Ghostworld, Sandman and A Contract with God. The second they exchanged books, Hux’s fate was sealed. There was no unfriending Ben Solo, he simply grafted himself onto Hux’s life. Luckily, Hux quickly found that Ben’s personality suited him better than the one that he had spent 14 years creating for himself. He couldn’t be friends with Ben Solo and be invisible. 

It was a relief to find that people steered clear of them. It was far better to regarded as a weirdo with Ben than to go back to being normal alone. 

☾

Rey had offered to clear out Leia’s bedroom. She’d worked a couple jobs for a woman who managed estate auctions and had learned that most relatives didn’t like cleaning up after the deceased. They took what they wanted and preferred the rest to simply vanish.

It was astonishing how much stuff one single person could leave behind. ‘You don’t get to take anything with you when you leave this life,’ her boss liked to tell her. Rey had liked the job on many levels: it paid well, she could steal as much as she wanted and it felt like she was the last person to get to know the deceased. 

There were always surprises in the corners of drawers: lockets, vibrators, prescription drugs, containers of baby teeth. She had to pitch so many treasures - hospital wristbands, photographs of pets whose names had been lost to time, postcards and pressed flowers. She stole little things that were easy to hide from her employer; cash, perfume samples and the forgotten gift cards that ended up at the bottom of drawers. Rey took pictures of what interested her, what couldn’t be saved. She had a folder of thousands of pictures of these treasures. 

She felt gutted by the thought that her own family pictures had been thrown out by someone. Her parent’s wedding pictures had been left behind at some apartment or hotel. Her mother’s books, her father’s guitar, her own baby teeth, their puzzles and decks of cards. A little had been lost with every frantic move,  every shitty apartment they’d fled until there was nothing left. She wished there was some magical person trailing behind them from a distance, archiving the memories they’d left behind. 

☾

It was 9:23 am. Hux had checked his phone several times to make sure time was not standing still. He stared at the pictures on his desk. A student was complaining bitterly about transfer credits. He knew from experience that the only way to make the conversation end was to allow the student to talk themselves out. They wouldn’t listen to reason, they didn’t care about solutions, they only wanted to hear themselves complain until they got bored or hungry.

He studied a framed picture of Ben and himself in Postino. They were smiling at the camera proudly, holding kayak paddles. Leia had paid to fly Hux over to Italy to bring Ben home for Han’s  funeral. He had expected Ben to be a train wreck, fused to the floor of his apartment. Instead he found that his friend was in a pleasant state of full denial. At Ben’s insistence, they had spent a day kayaking in Postino and then traveled to visit beaches in Naples. Ben didn’t break down until they reached the airport in Naples. TV stations at the airport were running reports of Han’s death. There was a montage of Han’s days as an astronaut. When he saw a picture of his father smiling for cameras at the White House, Ben sat down in the middle of the terminal and couldn’t stand up again. 

As often happened when he was thinking of his friend, a text appeared. 

BenSolo: I think we should have babies together 

A Hux: You wouldn’t be my first choice but sure, I’ll give it a try 

Hux’s student frowned as he texted. They rifled through a folder of poorly organized paperwork. 

BenSolo: No, I meant we could have babies together at the same time. We could coach pee-wee soccer together, push strollers and whatever. We could be dads together and then we could make our sons be best friends.

A Hux: That would be nice. The dads at our school suck.

BenSolo: I read that you should put your kid on a waiting list for preschool before they’re born.

A Hux: Might be wise to hold off on that one until you and Rey are actually dating. Don’t you have an app that’s supposed to stop you from saying stuff like this?

BenSolo: I wish there was an app that would read my texts in advance and stop me from sending crazy stuff.

A Hux: Yes, that would really be something

☾

Ben clutched his phone like a weapon as he trudged toward to the offices of the Skywalker Foundation. He paused in front of the window of a health food store. He imagined what it would look like if Rey was standing beside him, their pinky fingers linked together. 

BenSolo: Would it be weird to send Rey vitamins?

A Hux: Yes, it would be weird. Please don’t do that

He was about to grill Hux about maternity vitamins and how soon a woman should start taking them for optimum benefit when a text appeared. From her. 

Reybees: Are you in New York?

Ben’s heart caught in his throat as he read and reread her message. He steadied his phone to take a picture of the view of the New York skyline from where he stood in Hoboken. He debated sending her a selfie but he didn’t want to explain his black eye.

BenSolo: I’m in New Jersey. Luke owns a warehouse here.

He stopped himself from texting I miss you. I’m thinking of you. I wish you were here. For now, a picture of the cold, lonely view would have to speak for him.

Chapter Text

Ben sat in the dark offices of The Skywalker Foundation. On the wall behind the empty reception desk was an imposing portrait of Luke. Ben exhaled slowly reminding himself that the point of today’s meeting was to ensure that his picture would never hang beside his Uncle’s. The Skywalker legacy was going to come to an end. 

A message appeared on his phone. The blue light seemed too bright in the silent room. It was from her. Thank god, it was from her. 

Reybees: Hope your flight was ok 

He paused, trying to decide if there would be any advantage to confessing that he’d been attacked at the airport, called a artworld parasite and wrestled to the ground. It seemed like a needless distraction.

BenSolo: Blessedly eneventful. Thank you for asking. How are the cats?

Reybees: Hungry. I’ll buy some cat food today 

Holy fuck. He had dumped out their food in the yard. Now she would need to take a bus to the grocery store to buy a heavyass bag of cat chow. He was the world’s worst potential boyfriend/cat owner.

BenSolo: I ordered some pet food already. It will be there in a few hours 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why hadn’t he ordered food? 

He texted Hux. He knew his friend hated morning interruptions but this was an emergency.

BenSolo: I need the name of a grocery store that will deliver to my Mom’s house ASAP 

A Hux: Aren’t you in a meeting soon?

BenSolo: That’s why it would be helpful if you fucking gave me the name of a grocery store 

Ben stared at his phone, waiting for the three dots that would offer him a lifeline. The screen had a long deep crack in it but it reminded him of Rey. He wished he could go back in time and be standing on the street outside his Mother’s house. 

A Hux: How fucking privileged and detached from reality are you that you don’t know the names of any grocery stores in the town you grew up in?

BenSolo: Please
BenSolo: I’m sorry. I’m a dick. 
BenSolo: I dumped all the cat food on the back porch so Rey would think Leia’s elderly neighbor was too incompetent to be trusted to take care of the cats.

A Hux: You are such an asshole. Maz Kanata is still teaching in the theology department!

BenSolo: Rey was sleeping in her studio and it scared me to death to think of something happening to her
BenSolo: I had to do something
BenSolo: Help me?

A Hux: I don’t work for you btw

BenSolo: Hux! I’m having an anxiety attack. I’m wearing the dumbest blazer I’ve ever owned. My shoes are so shiny. I look like a warlord.

A Hux: You’re wearing the Church’s Chetwynds, right? I picked them out myself.

BenSolo: Fuck. I want to go back and kick the shit out of that rental car guy. He said I was post modernism at its worst.

A Hux: This rental car guy is clearly the most interesting person we’ve ever met 

Hux sent him links to three grocery stores with delivery service. Ben relaxed as he quickly binge shopped for Rey. And the cats. I need to act like I love those god damn cats. Not that I hate them, I don't hate them. I just don’t know them. Why did my Mom want cats? We were always dog people.

Reybees: How was your meeting this morning?

BenSolo: It’s going to start in 15 minutes 

Reybees: Are you nervous?

BenSolo: A little

He felt like he was going to throw up. His past two meetings with Luke's Foundation had been disastrous and those had been uneventful. Today he had to tell them that the gallery was closed and he would be ending the Skywalker organization as well.

The board members had deep pockets and had given generously over the years in exchange for dinner parties, trips to art fairs and invitations to art openings. Luke had given his donors personal tours of art shows and studio visits with the artists he represented. Back in the day, Ben had followed Luke around to these events like a puppy dog. He’d watch in wonder as his famous Uncle worked a room. Charisma had oozed forth without effort. No one was immune from Luke’s charm.

Ben had felt disconnected from the Foundation from the very beginning and only attended the most critical meetings. He mostly ignored the Skywalker Foundation and paid Luke's gallery manager to play host on his behalf. But that was going to end today. No more pretending like Luke was still hovering in the background.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine his Uncle in his black jeans and wrinkled blazer. He knew exactly what Luke would say. He would take one look at Ben sitting in the dark room and he'd start to laugh. Who the hell are you pretending to be, kid?

Ben opened the pictures he had taken off Rey's studio. According to her schedule, she had an Art History seminar class in 20 minutes which meant she was probably writing to him from the bus. Ben could imagine her cheek pressed against the cold window, the fog of her breath. Were her feet cold? Had she eaten the sandwich for breakfast? 

Reybees: Sometimes, I try to imagine a braver person. I try to imagine what the view from their eyes would look like and then I pretend to be that person instead of me.

The reception desk buzzed, alerting him that the board members were ready to come in.

Ben stared at the the empty chair at the head of the table. Luke’s voice seemed to rise up out of thin air. Don’t worry about the wolves at the door, kid. They can huff and puff but there’s no house left to blow down.

☾

His phone had run out of batteries during the meeting. He had been too focused on his presentation to plug it in. Plus he didn’t want to look weak. The members of The Skywalker Foundation wanted him to fail, wanted him to give up and let them go back to the status quo. Licensing deals with Target. Limited edition prints. Coffee table books. Skywalker Cologne, only available in Shanghai. He had to honor his Uncle by destroying all the weeds that had sprouted around his legacy. 

It couldn’t go on like this. He stared at the presentation he’d painstakingly created. The presentation that no one on the board had wanted to read. He plugged his phone into the outlet on the wall, letting it sit by itself on the floor. It slowly came back to life, instantly greeting him with multiple messages.

ReyBees: Thanks for getting cat food! But you didn’t have to get anything for me!

She had sent him a picture of herself in the kitchen, surrounded by cloth grocery bags. 

Ben was momentarily stunned. He sat down on the carpet of the empty conference room, suddenly glad he was alone. His fingers nimbly zoomed in on Rey’s image. She was wearing Carhartt overalls, her knit wool hat and a sports bra. His brain sputtered to a halt. Exposed skin. Warm freckles. The exposed sides of her stomach.

She sent another picture, holding two grapefruits in front of her chest with a playful grin. 

‘Holy cantaloupes.” He mumbled, his mouth wasn’t working right. 

His PowerPoint presentation was still on the large screen. He turned away from the 3 point plan of dissolution, the checklists to be filed with the state, the donors to be honored for their years of support. Seconds ago, the stress was yanking through his heart. Now he saw a to-do list that would happen with or without him.

He felt like the light shifted colors. Everything was warmer, a shade sweeter. Rey was happy. He had made her happy. After hours of disappointing people, he had finally made someone happy. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair and focused on her smile as he typed. 

BenSolo: None of those groceries were for you. It’s all for the cats.

Reybees: Protein bars and oranges? Grapefruit and brown rice?

BenSolo: I am a strong believer in the food pyramid

Reybees: Flour, sugar, peanut butter and White Claw?

BenSolor: We were out of everything.

He held his breath, waiting for her reply. We. We. We were out of everything. Would she correct him? Make fun of him? Had he gone too far? 

Reybees: The cats and I are most grateful. 

She sent a picture of herself holding a cat, in front of the Rirkrit drawing. Which cat was it? His mind went blank. Sort of a beigish orange. Fuck. He needed to make a chart. C3PO?

BenSolo: I hope this keeps them out of the trees. 

Was that funny enough? What if she thought he was being serious? A second later, a heart icon appeared and he sank into the office chair with a sigh of contentment.

☾

Rey did the math she cleaned out dresser drawers and cabinets. Leia had died at age 60. Ben was 31, so Leia had been 29 when Ben was born. 

Leia had graduated college, lived abroad, and met Ben’s Father while she was working for the UN. Rey knew the basics from watching Luke’s TedTalk and his interview on Art21. Leia’s personal history was written out in tandem with Luke’s. His artistic successes, triumphs and accolades were interspersed with her milestones. Her marriage, motherhood, art collecting, her small gallery served as a contrast to Luke’s meteoric rise to prominence in the art world. 

His controversies still seemed relevant, even by modern standards. His self portraits depicting himself shooting at commercial airplanes with an air rifle, a photo series where he pretended to kidnap Yoko Ono, a well documented performance where Luke had hung out of a 30th floor window, a long white cape swirling in the wind heroically behind him. And then Luke had started painting on flags. Images of genoicide on the flag of Rwanda, figures crumpling in front of a firing squad on the flag of Columbia. And finally the anti-papal imagery on the Vatican flag. 

Luke had actively courted controversy but had only gained more and more acclaim. Even after being denounced by two Popes, the Vatican had commissioned him to create a mosaic at the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore.

Luke, it seemed, was nearly impossible to hate. 

☾

Rey moved onto the large walk-in closet. She bagged up underwear, sleek black pantsuits with Japanese labels, shoes and glasses. Ben had told her that she could keep anything she wanted. She set aside a set of satin pajamas, a sparkly white tunic, wool socks and 3 fentanyl lozenges that she’d found in the sock drawer. They were under polar fleece slippers in an envelope marked ‘in case’. Rey had memorized fentanyl dosages in elementary school. She knew a fatal dose when she saw one.

After years of cleaning up after the dead, she had acquired a minor stockpile of drugs. There would come a time when she would be forced to make use of them. Her past would come knocking on her door someday and she needed to be ready to defend herself.

Reybees: I need to show you something 

BenSolo: I like the way this conversation is starting 

Reybees: I found this in your mom’s closet. 

She pulled out a set of curved wires and several red and blue shapes.

Reybees: Any ideas?

BenSolo: That’s an Alexander Calder mobile. I was wondering what happened to it. 

Rey set the pieces down gently. Holy hell. She had considered tossing it out.

Reybees: Is this a real Calder?

BenSolo: Probably about $500,000. It’s an ok piece but it isn’t great since it’s so small. The market for Calder is running hot along with the whole mid-century market. We need to get it repaired.

Reybees: There’s paperwork in the same box.  It’s some sort of contract with an art restoration place. Do you want me to send it to you?

BenSolo: Your friend Kaydel is doing inventory of my Mom’s warehouse. Maybe give it to her. but you’d have to take it by car. You remember where the keys to the Saab are?

She debated showing him the other item she’d found: an empty black box. It was identical to the ones Ben had used to sell off the 12 squares of Luke’s painting that he'd cut into pieces. Had Leia really bought one?

☾

Four days later, Ben was jogging uphill. He wasn’t sure how far he’d gone and he didn’t care. He pretended the photographers were still chasing him. Over here! Do you miss your Father? Over here! The press had turned Han’s funeral into a media event. Leia told him to look down. Her instructions were to be followed without question. Do not make eye contact. Make sure you never give away your emotions.

He ran the paved nature trail of the Hudson Highlands State Park. It didn’t matter how far he ran. It wasn’t far enough. Phasma had signed Hux and Ben up to do a kids Triathlon with Cossimo. When did they start making triathlons for 9 year olds? Ben knew he probably couldn’t out swim Hux or beat him on that stupid bike but he’d be damned if he get left behind. He could make up ground on the running section. 

His Uncle Lando had come up from the city to help him pack up his house. They had gone for a recording breaking time of two hours without arguing before his Uncle told him to get the fuck out. He took ‘get the fuck out’ to mean that he could come back in an hour. It was still his home, after all. 

☾

His small craftsman house was ridiculous. Lando had laughed for a solid five minutes as he walked through it. After 3 years, Ben had never truly gotten around to unpacking, let alone redecorating. There was burnt orange carpets and green wallpaper. 

“Laugh all you want. Leia’s house in Illium is awesome.” He’d told his Uncle smugly. He would have a beautiful house and a beautiful girlfriend. As long as he didn’t fuck it up before it started. “I’m selling this heap for $850,000. That’s double what I paid for it.”

“Double? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Lando had burst out laughing at the pink and white checkered kitchen floor. “My god, your Father would have loved seeing this place. It is absolutely hilarious that you live here.” 

Ben and Han had always found something to argue about. Speed limits, grades, diets, even the proper way to make a cup of coffee. They would yell, Ben would sulk and Han would eventually find some goofy way of smoothing things over. More often than not, it involved ice cream. Han loved making milkshakes, running the blender until the entire house smelled of over heated metal. 

Lando seemed determined to take over the role of instigator. Their current argument centered on a set of multicolored Charlotte Perriand pivoting wall lights. It was one of the few changes Ben had made to the house. The realtor insisted that lighting fixtures should stay with the house but Ben was intent on swapping them out with a set of lookalikes from Walmart. Lando said Ben was being ridiculous and petty. It was a lot cuter when Rey called him ridiculous. 

That had been 20 minutes ago. From a distance, it seemed genuinely bizarre that a crotchety old man in a lavender sweater vest could kick him out of his own house.  But he did need the exercise.

He made a mental note to send Phasma a thank you note for picking out his new balance sneakers. She had also bought Hux a pair of the shoes with the toes in them and he couldn’t wait to make fun of them in person. 

He cranked up his Airpods, running at top speed to the Dear You album by Jawbreaker. The record had always made him feel connected to Illium, to the dumb optimist kid he used to be.

He and Hux had taken a bus to buy the album. Hux had argued with the record store owner about it for a solid 20 minutes. It was the first time he’d understood that his best friend had profoundly good taste. Ben had his Mother’s ability to read the artworld like the stock market; he could see past trends and predict what to buy and sell. Hux operated outside the hive mind, he appreciated all the right things but he loved selectively. Over time, Ben had come to trust his best friend’s judgment more than his own.

Ben didn’t care about pacing himself for the way home. He wanted to run until his heart gave out and stumble home in pain. Uncle Lando would be nicer if he came back sweaty and pathetic. 

He took out his phone to check his distance and found the index card Phasma had given him. He unfolded it slowly. Sheev Palpatine. It must be someone from Illium. He Googled the name as he paced back and forth. He let his heart rate adjust before turning in the direction of his soon-to-be former home.

Sheev Palpatine. 

The search results were not pleasant. He clicked on the first news story and stopped in his tracks. He immediately texted Phasma.

BenSolo: Can you talk?

Chapter Text

Phasma was in the produce section of the grocery store, searching for mangos, when she received Ben’s text. She FaceTimed Ben immediately and was surprised to find he was in the woods. His black eye had turned yellow around the edges. “Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not. I finally looked up the name you gave me.”

“Palpatine?”

Ben skimmed over the news story again. He stammered as he read out loud:

Ilium Man Arrested on Drug Trafficking Charges 

On Monday, October 11th, Thomaston police arrested Sheev Palpative outside the Pasana Elementary school in Illium’s in Thomaston neighborhood. Palpatine was found in his vehicle with an unnamed minor. Both were taken into custody without incident.

According to police, seized from Palpatine at the time of his arrest was one ounce (28 grams) of fentanyl, one ounce (28 grams) of cocaine, a digital scale, and $45,000 in suspected drug proceeds. Two additional counts of Aggravated Trafficking charges were added based on the quantity of the seized fentanyl and the proximity to an elementary school, according to officials.

Ben’s voice shook. “The article doesn’t say what happened to the minor.”

“No, they don’t usually say anything about minors.”

“But this is her, isn’t it? My her.” My Rey.

“You should ask her yourself.” Phasma’s voice broke. She had never heard Ben sound so scared. 

“This Sheev guy is her grandfather? This is the asshole who raised her?”

“I’m guessing she raised herself, Ben.”

Aggravated Trafficking. His girl. His perfect girl had been taken into custody without incident. He felt physically sick. 

He’d known it was bad. She’d said it was bad but he hadn’t been prepared for this. He swallowed hard. She had been surrounded by all this shit growing up. No wonder houses and kindness and stability seemed like abstractions to her. No wonder she was getting two degrees instead of one. Stability was her only concern. Rey was scared for her life. She was accustomed to the people around her making the worst possible choices. 

He was suddenly glad that he had a long walk home. “Why are people so shitty, Phas?”

She sighed. “I see it everyday at court. People choose money over their family. Drugs and greed and unhealthy relationships that destroy families from the inside out. The routine of hurting people becomes normal. They can’t see that they’re destroying the lives of their kids and the people they love.”

”Phas?” Ben spoke her name in the silence of the forest like a he was encoding a magic spell. There couldn’t be a world where mothers like Phasma existed at the same time as drug dealers who called his beautiful girlfriend a pig.

☾

He sat down on a park bench, watching traffic go past. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Phasma had told him to concentrate on the strong person Rey had become. She reminded him that she was graduating at the top of her class. Despite everything, she had an inner strength that sustained her.  Ben could feel his panic rising. It felt like a loose sail, flapping uselessly against the wind. His heart thudded in his chest. He felt helpless and disconnected from his body; his sense of physical dimension shifting in sickening waves. He concentrated on his breath, in and out, counting to 100. 

☾

Ben returned to find Lando talking down one of the Perriand lights. He was unexpectedly grateful for the company, he didn’t want to be alone with his anxiety. Grateful that that Lando was distracted.

Lando didn’t look at him as he handed over a light. "So these lights are actually worth saving?"

"They’re iconic." Ben wiped his eye on his sleeve. 

"You always had a good eye for quality. Like your Mother."

"Are you done being mad at me?"

"For now." Lando flashed a smile. "Tell me what art should I be buying these days?"

"You’ve got money to waste?"

"Yes. Always." Lando handed him a light.

"How much can you afford?" He wrapped the red lacquer light in an old t-shirt. 

"Geezus kid, how long have you known me?"

Ben smiled, that was Lando’s way of saying to keep it under 5 million. "OK then, I think you should invest in a really big Yayoi Kusama painting."

Lando peered over his bifocals. "Are you fuckin with me, kid?" 

Ben typed in the name on his Uncle’s phone. Lando’s expression shifted to a goofy smile. "Oh, I do like this. Leia took me to see her show. Spirit of pumpkin seeds or something?"

Ben grabbed a screw driver, happy to have something to do. “It’s so cute that you can still remember things at your age.”

“Young man, I could still wipe the floor with your smug face.”

“Do you need a 4 to 5 thousand year head start? I can get your cane.”

“I’ll have you know that canes are very much in style.”

“According to who, Count Chocula?”

“You better pour me a drink, kid. You’re wearing me out.”

☾

While his Uncle ran out for bourbon, Ben arranged the purchase of a 20 foot Yayoi Kusama, an Elizabeth Catlett woodcut and a pair of Gavin Turk egg shaped paintings. In minutes, he spent $3,000,000. He knew his uncle would complain; the Kusama was too big, the eggs were too weird, the woodcut was too small. Lando loved to complain. In the end, he’d buy whatever Ben recommended because he had more money than patience to choose his own art. 

Art purchased, Ben’s thoughts returned to Rey. He searched for Sheev Palpatine’s court records. Driving under the influence, possession, child endangerment, theft… How had this man been left to care for a child? He found a mug shot and shut down completely. He was staring at the face of someone who had hurt his (soon to be) girlfriend/ future wife. He dialed Hux.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ben’s voice was quiet and there was no question in Hux’s mind who the call was about.

Hux was stuck in the car line at his son’s elementary school. Turning down the Buzzcocks, he rummaged through his messenger bag for his emergency pack of cigarettes and lighter. As he lit up, he was treated to the glare of his son’s soccer coach who was walked past. He inched the car forward without making eye contact.

“You know that I don’t share my student’s personal information.”

“You’re not a doctor Hux; there’s no patient/teacher privilege.” 

”I don’t know who the fuck you think you are that you assume I'm going to gossip like a -"

"I’m your best friend." Ben interrupted. "You should have fucking told me that Rey’s family was involved with drug trafficking."  

HUx rolled down his window, and watched in horror as smoked billowed out toward the music teacher who was directing traffic. “I cannot be responsible for what information your housesitter chooses to share with you about her past.”

“Rey not just my housesitter. My fucking god Hux.”

“Fuck you for yelling at me when I’m picking up my fucking kids,” he snapped. 

A parent passed by his window and he sheepishly rolled up his window. “Sorry, so sorry,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“You should be sorry,” Ben grumbled.

“I wasn’t talking to you - you fucking overfed, lazy shithead.”

“Fuck you!”

”Fuck you, too. I hope your Picasso is a forgery and your Kleins were stolen by Nazis.”

Ben paused. "You know that’s mathematically impossible because time is still linear!” 

“I didn’t tell you anything about Rey because I assumed you would have fucked things up by now," Hux snarled. "You know she’s too good for you.”

There was silence at the end of the line and Hux realized he’d gone too far. He tried to grind the lit cigarette into an empty cupcake wrapper and watched in horror as ashes spilled in all directions, drifting onto the seats. 

Atticus, his youngest son, bounded toward the car carrying a box of Milk Duds. “Here Dad, you can have these. You look sad.”

☾

Rose helped Rey stretch 3x3 foot canvases. Rose pulled the fabric tight on the wooden frame for Rey to staple in place. 

"Ben Solo looks like he’d have a big dick."

Rey coughed and laughed at the same time, her eyes growing wide in shock. "Oh my god, who are you?"

Rose dramatically pulled back her collar, gesturing to her large necklace. "I’m Rose. Your Chinese friend."

"Oh my god Rose, you don’t like talking about sex. You won’t even acknowledge having your period. You didn’t live in the dorms because you couldn’t stand the idea of sharing a laundry facility with strangers."

"Tampons are not to be discussed and my laundry is private."

Rey folded the corner of the canvas. "And now we’re going to talk about dicks?"

"I’ve been watching that Bridgerton show and I just feel like we should celebrate our sexuality. Wouldn’t we be happier if we were all having healthy, happy sex on the lawns of our palatial estates?"

"The second season doesn’t have as much sex." Rey shook her aching hand, muscles sore from the ancient staple gun.

"I think the brother looks like he wears a hair piece." Rose frowned. "I kind of hope they kill off his character."

"They don’t. The second season is about him."

"I prefer the bisexual artist brother. The oldest and youngest brothers should get killed in some sort of carriage incident. Back to the dick situation. Have you slept with Ben?"

"I’ve slept in the same room as him. And we kind of held hands." Rey flushed scarlet. "He said that if I had any idea how much time he thought about me, I would be concerned."

"Oh." An incandescent smile took over Rose’s face. "Oh, I like that. That’s kinda menacing in such a cute way. Like Edward in Twilight."

"Except he’s not creeping around my bedroom at night." But he’d like to. He referred to his mother’s home as our house. "Ben is sweet but odd."

"It must be at least kind of nice to have someone obsessed with you. Finn doesn’t always remember that I’m in the same room. I was reading him my thesis paper last night and he actually fell asleep." Rose touched the massive necklace absentmindedly. "God, I hate this thing."

"Maybe the clasp will break?"

"I can dream." They finished the first canvas and leaned it against the wall. Rose read the names Rey had written on the stretch bars. "Plutt?"

"Just my cousin. We were close growing up."

"Is he still around?" Rose spoke cautiously, knowing that Rey often sidestepped questions about her family.

"No. He and his boyfriend, Jeremy moved to Virginia." 

"Do you keep in touch?

"No." Rey's voice was flat, inviting no further questions. It wasn't that she didn't trust Rose, it was simply that she didn't want her past to engulf her; she couldn't be that person anymore. 

☾

The neon bright koi pond that dominated Lando’s living room had always concerned Ben. Having a recessed pool with a bridge seemed out of step with the rest of his Uncle’s ultra modern home. Even worse, the red tiled koi pond had been installed less than 3 feet away from what Ben considered to be one of E.M. Bannister’s finest paintings. He stared down at Lando’s beloved coy fish, Ellethree. He wondered how his uncle could possibly care so much about a pet that he couldn’t even touch. 

He poked his fork at a mound of jalapeño corn pudding, as he watched the fish swim in circles. Lando and his daughter, Jannah were discussing Ellethree’s mental health. They had recently purchased two other fish as company for the octogenarian coy fish. Jannah was positive that any company would be better than allowing the fish to go on living alone. Lando was skeptical, noting that Ellethree had ruthlessly killed off all her previous companions.

"What are you planning to do about Luke’s property?" Jannah was the director of a community  outreach program for recent immigrants and had her eye on the plot of land adjacent to Luke’s warehouse in Hoboken. "Is it held by the foundation or was it Luke’s?"

Ben looked up, he hadn’t listened to a word. "Oh yeah, this is good. Good soup."

"That's not soup, Ben. You’re drinking salsa with a spoon."

"Oh sorry. I’m spacing out - "

"Are you worried about moving?" Jannah nudged a bowl of guacamole and a basket of chips toward him.

"I think he’s got a girlfriend," Lando mused.

"Ben Solo doesn’t date." Jannah teased. "He always says that romantic attachment is an outdated social construct that-" She stopped mid-sentence, noticing that Ben’s eyes had filled with tears.

He inhaled slowly. "I don’t know what to do."

☾

Lando found Ben awake at 1 am, reading through Sheev Palpatine's court transcripts online. He studied the contents of the screen and Ben’s jagged breath. Lando sat down beside him on the couch. "Where’s your Xanax, son?"

"I don’t need -" 

"You do," Lando interrupted. "There’s no shame in needing medication, Ben." 

Ben nodded and looked helplessly at his Uncle. Lando fished around in Ben's messenger bag until he heard the telltale shake of a medicine bottle. He opened it and handed Ben a pill.

He looked in the messenger bag. "Where’s that book you always read? The graphic novel?"

"I let her borrow it.”

”Your girlfriend?” Lando asked gently.

“Her name is Rey."

He pulled out another book, worn with age. Lando smiled and looked at the cover; The Knights of Ren #7 by Armitage Hux. He handed it to Ben who immediately gripped it tightly to his chest.

Lando rested his hand between Ben’s shoulder blades, tapping one finger at a time against his back. "Count,” he whispered. It was the routine he had watched Han and Leia perform a hundred times. Ben’s forehead creased as he forced himself to count. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5..." Lando whispered softly, watching Ben's breathing slow down.

"I wish your Dad was here. Not just because he was your father. Han had a rough childhood. Even after everything he did at NASA, all the magazine articles, all the parties, he never felt like he deserved to be with your Mom. He didn’t want to let himself be loved. It didn’t make sense to him. Han had to keep proving himself, even if it wasn’t to the right people."

Ben shuddered, thinking about how hard Rey worked. How hesitant she was to accept the smallest tokens of kindness. She was a lot like Han. His Father had retired at 55 but kept taking on bigger and bigger consulting projects. He and Leia always talked about traveling when they retired but it never happened. 

They watched the fish tank in silence. The large fish swam slowly in loops around the massive tank. "I bought two tank-mates for Ellethree. I bet they’ll be dead within a week." 

"That fish will outlive us all." Ben watched Lando’s beloved koi gaping at her own reflection. He liked that the black and white fish wasn’t particularly valuable but Lando had fallen in love with its distinct sumi ink-like pattern. "Are you leaving Elle to Jannah?"

"Hell no. She’d dump her in the Hudson River. I’m gifting her to the New England Aquarium. Jannah gets all my property and you will get my art collection."

Ben gulped air at the thought. "Shit.”

”Thank you is the customary response.”  

“Umm, what am I supposed to do with your stolen stuff?" 

"I don’t have any stolen artwork," Lando said evenly. He had an incredible pokerface.

"Should we call the Kunsthal Museum and see if they’re missing anything?" Ben’s eyes shifted toward the door to Lando’s bedroom which had been painted pale blue to match Monet’s Waterloo Bridge hanging over his bed.

"People assume it's a reproduction. The esteemed Charlotte Newman was here last week and she didn’t bat an eye at it."

"Zero chance that she was in your bedroom."

"True. We were in a photoshoot together for the Top African American Art Collectors. We were in front of my Murakami. I looked magnificent."

"What did you wear?"

"Purple suit, red shirt, red tie."

"Geezus. No cape?"

Lando was relieved to see Ben smile. He slowly closed the screen of the laptop. 

"My jacket has a purple cape. It’s detachable. I want to get a red suit to match my new painting. What do you think? Velvet?"

"I think you are totally insane for letting people in your house with a 35 million dollar, stolen Monet hanging above your bed. What if someone actually got close enough to see it?"

Lando shrugged. "Well, that’s another reason for me to avoid serious relationships. But you - it sounds like you finally met someone. What’s her name?”

"Rey,” he croaked. 

☾

It had been strange to have several days of radio silence from Ben. He had sent cat toys, an array of rice crackers, hummus and fruit. Rey had sent him texts, thanking him but there had been no reply. She nibbled a rice cake as she measured the distance of the studio's crit space. She wanted to try setting up her canvases. 5 seemed like a good number but she wasn't sure it would look right. She was pacing out her steps when she saw Poe. She looked down sheepishly at her feet.

"Sorry, I'm using your shoes." She had borrowed his boots from the corner of his studio. His size 12 feet were the perfect means of measuring a space. He had taught her this trick for measuring a room when they had been together and she had come to rely on it over time. Kaydel wandered in, carrying a box of pizza. "This was leftover from the sculpture crit," Kaydel offered. Rey looked at the box, trying not think about hunger. 

"The slices with tomatoes have vegan cheese."

Poe smiled. "We thought you might need a break. You’ve been here all day."

It stung Rey when Poe looked at her the same kind expression as when they were dating. She hated thinking that he might pity her, bringing her scraps of food like a dog.

"Um, we were wondering if maybe we might be able to see Solo’s house?" Kaydel ventured. "Poe’s been too nervous to ask you."

"Sure. Uh, let me check." Rey hedged. "I don’t want to invite people over to the house unless he's OK with it, you know."

She turned away from her friends. Without meaning to, she accidentally FaceTime called him. Ben was on his Uncle's treadmill, trying to build up his endurance when he saw her call. He knocked the phone over and tumbled off the treadmill sideways trying to grab it. Lando chuckled as he rolled to the floor. He answered her call on his back, staring up at her face. 

Rey's face looked tense. "Hi, I'm sorry. I meant to text but I hit the wrong button."

"No, it's great. It's great to see you. You look really great.' Why did he keep saying great?  What was wrong with him? Lando gave him a pointed look on the elliptical machine next to him. Ben’s scowl made him laugh harder.

"It's nice to see you too." Rey couldn't help grinning at him. She liked it when he was nervous. "Are you at a gym?"

"This is my Uncle's house."

"Luke?!"

Ben turned the phone to show her Lando waving and trying to look dignified in his lumbar support harness. "Lando Calrissian,  astronaut billionaire and my Dad's best friend. I'm staying here until I move. Or until I drive him crazy and he moves me into an Airbnb."

Rey continuing shyly. "Would it be ok if I had a few people over to the house tonight?"

"Of course. It's your house too." He wanted to hit himself in the face. Why had he said that? What the hell was wrong with his brain? He sounded like the creepiest creep. 

Rey gave him a radiant smile. "Thanks. You're kind to share your home with me."

Ben thought he might collapse in relief. Despite not texting for days and answering her simple question in the creepiest way possible, she was still being nice to him. Lando gave him a thumbs up and wheezed.

☾

"My god, I can’t believe he has these!" Poe’s nose was inches away from the Elizabeth Peyton drawing and Rey was worried he’d fog up the glass. 

Kaydel was in the living room, inspecting a large Normas Lewis painting. "My god, I love this."

Finn seemed unfazed. "So, you’re like housesitting or something? Are you dating him?"

"NO!" Rey answered too quickly. "I mean, he probably chooses a poor grad student to fuck every every spring."

Kaydel smirked. "Oh please. Tell me that you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you when we were sledding?"

"He looked like a lovestruck teenager. Like, all goofy and cute," Rose sighed. 

"Rey, he gave me a job because of you," Kaydel said without emotion.

"Kaydel is quitting the museum so she can work on the inventory in Leia's gallery, full time." Poe explained.

"What?"

"You know that scene at the end of Indiana Jones where they put the Ark of the Covenant in that big warehouse of boxes? It looks like that." Kaydel grinned "It’s truly shocking."

"Kay, tell them what you found." Poe prompted.

"Luke and Leia bought everything together so there’s two of everything." Kaydel sounded breathless. "Two Cecil Beatons, Two Mapplethorpe Lily prints, two Chihuly vases. It’s nuts. Get this, yesterday I found Ben’s blood paintings."

"The blood and cocaine paintings? I thought they were recent?"

"She bought a set of them on the night of the opening. And to make it creepier, one crate is marked Luke and one is marked Leia. She kept buying stuff for her brother even after he died. Isn't that so beyond weird?"

"I’m getting chills." Rey swallowed hard. "Do you want to see the Kleins?"

☾

"I expected them to be bigger." Poe was, once again, far too close to the art. 

"Leia didn’t like moving them so they sort of stay here in her office," Rey waved to the globes and a large torso of a woman.

"I’ve never seen a Klein torso with a head before." Rose grinned. "It's so pretty."

"I don’t like Klein." Finn sniffed, looking out the window.

"Don't be so shitty," Rose scolded. "You liked him up until the second we got here. You totally like him, everyone likes him."

"I don’t have to like everything that everyone else likes." Finn snapped. 

"He’s just hungry." Rose apologized as Finn stomped off. 

"I’m starving. I’m gonna eat some of that leftover pizza." He grumbled and wandered downstairs.

Kaydel and Poe stared at the Kleins, entranced. Poe recited from memory because he was Poe. "In 1947, three young men were sitting on a beach in Nice in the south of France. To pass the time, they decided to play a game and divide up the world between them. One chose the animal kingdom, another the province of plants. Klein, the third man opted for the mineral realm, before lying back and staring up at the ultramarine infinity of the heavens. Then, with the contentment of someone who had suddenly decided what course his life should take, he turned to his friends and announced, 'The blue sky is my first artwork.'"

"I’ve never seen a sky that blue." Rey said softly. 

"We’ll have to see when we go to France. Maybe the sky is bluer there?" Kaydel's voice took on a dreamy quality.

Poe turned to her, his face filled with joy. "I’d love to travel the world with you and look for the bluest skies."

Rey left them alone in Leia's office. She felt like she was trespassing on an intimate moment. 

☾

As her friends were preparing to leave, Rey stopped in front of the drawing of Ben. Rose stood over her shoulder. "You said this one is his, so why doesn’t he have it with him in New York?" 

"I don’t know." Rey had wondered the same thing.

"Didn’t he have a house in New York?"

"Ben just sold it. It’s in Beacon." Kaydel said from the stairs. 

Rey fought off the impulse to glare at her. Ben selling his house was hardly news but Rey felt a little robbed of the chance to talk about him. 

"You said this drawing is his favorite piece, right?" Kaydel straightened the frame slightly. "I wonder why it’s here?"

Rey fought the urge to kick her in the back of the knees. What kind of person touched someone else's art? "There’s supposedly a picture of Luke too but I haven’t found it. Maybe you'll find it in the warehouse?"

"God, I hope so. I feel like a treasure hunter." Kaydel spun in a happy circle.

☾

Later, Rey called Ben again. He and Hux had struck up a sullen truce and had been working on a Minecraft build together. When Hux fell asleep, he created a moat around their replica of Zaha Hadid’s Vitra Fire Station .

Rey stood at the window of the living room, looking out at the quiet street. It struck her as interesting how quickly she had become accustomed to living at this house. BB8, the orange cat followed her from room to room like a bodyguard. R2D2 sat in the sink, batting at a sponge. She could see C3PO sitting on a low tree branch just outside the window. He was surveying the evening sky, just like her. 

"Hey." He answered the phone, pausing the game. 

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly. 

"Playing Minecraft." He sipped the scotch Lando had left him, trying his best to sound nonchalent. "What are you doing?" He was thrilled she was, once again, calling him instead of texting. He loved to hear her voice. She sounded so close. His obsessiveness tugged at him and he wondered for a moment if he could figure out how to record their conversation. No, he’d have to listen to the sound of his own voice which would be straight up torture. Nope. "Did your friends come over?"

"Yeah, it was nice." She folded up the pizza box they'd left behind. "Hey, why didn’t you take your Elizabeth Peyton drawing with you when you moved away?"

"I guess I never felt like any place I lived was permanent. In Beacon, I felt like I was holed up in the middle of nowhere."

"Nowhere is not a place?"

"I’m glad it’s there with my Mom’s painting."  And with you. If she was looking at it, maybe she was thinking of him. Maybe she missed him like he missed her. He could hear her walking up the stairs and wondered which room she was in.

"Have you ever seen a sky the color of an Yves Klein painting?" 

"No."

"Maybe you haven’t been to the right places?" Her voice sounded sad.

"I traveled all over Italy, I went to Nice where Klein was supposed to have come up with the color." Please let me see you. He wanted to scream.  I want to know what you’re thinking about. I need to see your face. "The water is that blue but not the sky. Maybe Klein got mixed up, seeing the reflection?"

Rey stood at the window of Leia's office, her nose touched the glass. Seeing the smudge, she scrubbed at the glass with her sleeve. "I don't think skies are ever that blue. Maybe he was just painting the color he wanted to see, not what actually exists."

Ben was standing at the window of Lando's guest room, looking out at the night. "Or maybe it was a night sky? We just assume everything is light and sunshine but maybe the truth isn’t that simple." 

Ben thought of the pages of court transcripts he’d tried to read, searching for mentions of Rey’s arrest. There was never a name, just the minor, the minor in question, did the minor have prior knowledge, what was the minor’s role in the drug trafficking?  The truth was never simple. What remained was shorthand and simplified. 

"Ben?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you were still awake. It's nice to talk to you."

"I hope you sleep ok, Rey." I miss your face.

"I hope you sleep ok too, Ben."

Chapter Text

Rey tried to shake off a chill; she had walked from the bustop in a downpour. Her best attempts to angle her umbrella against the blustery wind had been unsuccessful. Before housesitting, she would have had her bags with her, a change of clothes ready. Now that her bags were unpacked at Leia's house, she was traveling lighter. Unexpected consequences. She set up a sketch alongside a square canvas. She had already primed it with gesso and was going to add a thicker layer mixed with ashes. She gathered up an old battered cake pan and a painting trowel. 

Peli Motto seemed to materialize out of thin air in her studio. Rey wondered for a moment how she hadn't heard her until she realized that her teacher was barefoot. Barefoot and dressed in a full length red dress, so vibrant that it almost hurt her eyes. Rey wondered if she should tell her teacher that there were still tags attached to the dress.

"You look very nice, Pelli."

"Do I? Oh, that's nice of you to say! It's just one of those Tuesdays. I like to dress up for couple's therapy. I feel like it gives me an edge." She grinned and Rey noticed that she had a pack of cigarettes tucked into the strap of her bra.

"Did you get a chance to read my paper?" After restarting her thesis work, she had asked Pelli to be on her committee. Rey assumed that her bookarts teacher was going to flake out on her. 

Pelli rummaged through a large shopping bag for a tattered stack of papers. "They aren't in order but these are my notes. You should have Armitage Hux read it too, he's an insightful little foxhound. Good lord, if I was 10 years younger, I would hop aboard that choo-choo train, do you know what I mean? Careful dear, you're going to get paint on your blazer."

"Oh yeah, you're right. Thanks." She hung it on the back of a chair, suddenly aware that she had forgotten to wear a bra. 

"This is what you're painting?" Peli tapped the sketch with a glossy red fingernail. 

"Yes, this is my - my cousin, Mashra. She was 5 in this picture but she's 7 now." Rey had drawn her small cousin from a school picture. Her adopted parents had emailed Rey once or twice a year, updating her on Mashra. "Um, what do you think?"

☾

Rose8me: Where are you? I have a margarita with your name on it.

Reybees: I'm at the studio. Go ahead without me

Rose8me: Are you OK? You've been there all day.

Reybees: I'm re-doing a sketch. Raincheck?

Rose8me: Finn's Nana is coming over and she's bring his baby book. I like him but this is getting weird.

Reybees: Careful what you wish for, Rosie.

Rey caught a look at her reflection in the window of the painting studio. There was no way she could see her friend looking like this and pretend like she was doing OK. Her eyes were swollen from crying.

☾

Reybees: Can I get your opinion on something? 

Ben snapped awake as his phone pinged. He'd fallen asleep on the couch while trying to make sense of the endless court transcripts from Rey's Grandfather's trial. He scrambled upright. What time was it?

BenSolo: Of course. Anything.

Reybees: I'm stuck on one of my paintings. I thought I had it figured out but I just met with Peli Motto and she sort of derailed me.

He responded with a thumbs up. Rey wished she had called him instead. It would be nice to hear his voice. She sent him a picture of the sketch of her little cousin.

Reybees: I had this idea that I would paint it sideways or something. IDK. Peli said it doesn't work. 

BenSolo: What do you think?

Rey bit her lip. Everything felt too close to the surface. Her cousin's smiling face stared back at her. 

Reybees: I think Peli was right. These portraits should be more than just documentation. This is what my cousin looks like now but it's not how I remember her. 

BenSolo: How do you remember her?

Reybees: She wasn't safe.

BenSolo: I'm sorry. That sounds hard.

Reybees: I went with the social worker and prison caseworker to meet her adoptive parents. Her Mom was in jail for assault. Maybe I should paint Mashra the way she looked when I saw her last.

BenSolo: How did she look?

Rey’s hands shook as she typed. Alone in her studio, tears rolled down her cheeks. She had planned to carve the word Pig into her self portrait. Now she knew what word to write on Mashra’s picture.

Reybees: She looked terrified.

☾

Ben sat beside the red tiled koi pond, trying to meditate. He didn’t know if fish ever slept or just slowed down. His Uncle was watching Ponyo, his eyelids drooping. Lando had lectured him earlier when he had asked if fish had ears so he decided not to ask more questions. 

He thought about Rey’s words. These portraits should be more than just documentation. He was trying to understand Rey by reading about her Grandfather’s criminal record. Factual accounts didn’t tell him about her feelings or memories. 

He walked back to bed and closed the tabs on his laptop: court transcripts, mug shots, newspaper articles. This wasn’t Rey’s life. It was a crime.

☾

Rey had gotten used to hearing from Ben daily. It had started to seem strange if she didn’t hear from him several times throughout the day.

She looked outside the window at Maz Kanata who was trying to walk her cat on a leash. The small black cat was low to the ground, hissing and refusing to move. Maz waved at Rey and picked the cat up, carrying it tucked under her arm like a football. 

She sent a picture to Ben. He immediately marked it with a heart, changed it to a thumbs up, then back to a heart. 

Reybees: Long day, Solo?

BenSolo: Kaydel sent me a line item inventory of my mom’s storage and gallery

Reybees: Any surprises?

Rey waited for him to mention that his mother had continued to purchase artwork for Luke, even after his death.

BenSolo: Luke bought one of the pieces of his own cut up painting. I never knew that. He must have bought it anonymously.

Rey had not mentioned the empty black box she’d found in Leia’s drawer. Another matched set of artwork. It was all so incredibly strange.

BenSolo: She also bought two of my blood paintings. I wish she hadn’t. 

Reybees: Why does that bother you? 

BenSolo: I don’t know. A hundred reasons. I wish I could have given one to her. I wish those paintings never existed in the first place. I feel like I shouldn’t have made them.

Reybees: You made 160 of those paintings of your Father. I don’t think you made the same mistake that many times in a row.

BenSolo: You’d be surprised how many mistakes I make. 

Reybees: Men who admit that they make mistakes are more appealing. 

BenSolo: I can’t figure out where the Elizabeth Peyton painting of Luke is. You haven’t seen it have you?

Reybees: No. I’ll look in the basement tomorrow. 

Some immature, childish part of Ben's heart hoped that Leia had sold the painting of Luke. He wanted to believe that she had hung the portrait of herself near Ben’s as a final message to him; a way of saying that she loved him more. In reality, he knew there would be records if Leia had sold or donated the work. 

So much was simply missing: his Father’s medals, her jewelry, the Willow-ware china, Luke’s ashes. He wished he was at the house with Rey. He should be the one searching through the basement.

Ben suddenly felt overwhelmed by his longing for Rey and pulled a pillow to his chest. Landa smiled at him from the doorway of the guest room. 

“You OK, kid?” 

Ben nodded and Lando ruffled his hair like a toddler. He looked at the trail of messages on Ben's phone. 

"Remember to ask her questions once and awhile. I know you’re accustomed to being the center of the universe but this isn’t the Ben Solo show."

"Thanks Uncle Lando," Ben deadpanned. "You’re so nurturing."

BenSolo: Where are you? At the painting studio? 

Reybees: I’m at home 

She froze staring at the words, wishing she hadn’t hit send. Shit.

Surrounded by moving boxes, in Lando’s guest room, Ben closed his eyes in pure gutted joy. She thought of his house as home . Best not to alarm her by being strange. Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. It was not the right time to ask what side of the bed she liked to sleep on. Act like a normal person. The boyfriend app he’d downloaded, and deleted several times, suggested he concentrate on their shared interests. 

BenSolo: How are the cats?

Reybees: When I came home there was an extra cat in the kitchen. 

BenSolo: What? 

Reybees: It turns out, Maz's cat comes through the cat door. I’m not really sure what to do. It’s just staring at me.

She sent a picture of a black cat with knowing eyes.  Lando reappeared a moment later, setting a lavender candle and a shallow glass of scotch beside his bed. 

“Look at you, I haven’t seen that smile in a while! What are you looking at?”

Ben showed him the picture of the cat and Lando bristled. “You’re not getting a pet. No cats in my house.” 

“This is at my Mom’s.”

Lando stared at the picture with an uneasy expression. “Keep those demons away from me.”

Ben grinned. Suddenly, his world felt bigger.

BenSolo: Do you want to come to NY for the weekend? 

Reybees: I have to work at the library and I need to work on a bunch of paintings.

BenSolo: I could buy you a ticket 

Reybees: Why are you asking me? 

BenSolo: I have dinner party tonight and I don’t want to go 

Reybees: Boo-hoo

BenSolo: : (

Reybees: Text me during dinner. I’ll keep you company 

BenSolo: : )

Reybees:  Will you send me pictures of your food 

BenSolo: As you wish 

Reybees: You’re trying to make me like you

BenSolo: Is it working?

☾

The next day, Rey was eating popcorn with BB8 on her lap when Ben sent her a selfie. His pained expression reminded her of Rose when someone complimented her large necklace.

Reybees: Where are you now?

BenSolo: Tyger Restaurant. It’s by the Drawing Center. 

Reybees: What’s for dinner?

BenSolo: Pumpkin Curry, I think. I hate every single person in this room 

ReyBees: Who’s there?

BenSolo: Luke’s board members; Collector douchebags. The meanest people you could ever hope to imagine are on the board of art foundations. 

Reybees: Like Nazis and ax murderers?

BenSolo: Yes. They were making fun of one of the Drawing Center curators because she’s pregnant. Like it’s a character flaw 

Reybees: ! ! !

BenSolo: I said she looked beautiful because it’s true. Frida Escobedo was there.  

Reybees: Looking her up now. Oh. She’s pretty. Do you like her?

BenSolo: Not particularly. She’s not my type.

Rey wasn’t sure how to respond. She wanted to make a joke about his tinder office worker or  the black underwear. But mainly, she wanted to ask him what his type was. 

BenSolo: This is why I can’t keeping run Luke’s gallery. I’d end up murdering them all. They fucking all hate my guts. 

Reybees: They can’t all be bad

BenSolo: There’s a trophy husband here who seems nice. He’s really high

Reybees: Talk to him. I bet he’s funny

☾

Hours later, Rey was brushing her teeth when Ben texted back.

BenSolo: Trophy husband was out of his mind, totally high as a kite. I gave up and got Hux to download Pokémon Go. Oh god, it’s late. You must be tired.

Reybees: I tried to get Maz’s cat to go outside. I gave up and it’s just sitting here on my bed, staring at me. 

BenSolo: Lucky cat. 

Reybees: Goodnight Ben. Good luck.

BenSolo: : )

She had said my bed. My house, my bed. She had called the house home. It was like they were living together, apart from crucial detail that he was not actually there. 

☾

Ben texted the next day from Luke’s Foundation. The key members of the board were signing the paperwork to dissolve the foundation. Everything was a discussion and he was ready to tear his fucking hair out. Just sign the papers and get the hell out of if his sight.

He had overheard one of the senior members, whispering about him. She called him a ‘pissy man-child’. He had first met the woman when he was in high school when he and Han had flown in for one of Luke’s openings. Upon hearing that he was going to art school, the leatherface blond had suggested that he change his last name to Skywalker. It had been the first and only occasion that he had heard his Father call anyone a cunt.

Ben stared at the rainy afternoon sky and wished he was anywhere else. He stood in front of the the large window and swallowed back a wave of anxiety.

BenSolo: How are your paintings coming along? 

Reybees: I was painting outside. It was 61 degrees

BenSolo: Painting el fresco 

Reybees: Don’t make fun of me 

BenSolo: That might be challenging 

Reybees: I was out in the courtyard working on commission piece; An ash painting of a pig named Bowser, when Maz stopped by with a board member of the Illium Zoo. 

Ben watched board members compare facelift scars with two other board members. Why was this taking these assholes so long?

Reybees: They want me to make ash paintings of their leopard Fanny! I’m freaking out. Compared to a dog, a leopard has a ton of ashes. Maz said she told the Cleveland Zoo to contact me - their Giraffe just died.

BenSolo: Strange life you’re living.

Reybees: Morbid but it’s kind of bittersweet. The zoo is going to pay $3,000. I’ve never made this much money in my life. In a couple years, I might be able to put a down payment on a house or a condo.

Bey stared at his phone, unable to think straight. Fuck, she was thinking about houses. A house away from him. This was not helpful. Fuck.

☾

Phasma watched Hux play Minecraft, her long legs tucked under a blanket. She sipped a cup of mint tea spiked with bourbon. “Why are you killing that pig?”

“He’s in my way.” Hux was building his version of the mammoth red X La Equis sculpture from the Ciudad Juárez and El Paso border. He intended to add a green H & U. His excitement was lost on his wife who was searching WebMD.

“I feel like we should ask Atticus’ doctor about his nails.”

“What about his nails?”

“I haven’t trimmed them in forever. I wonder if he has a vitamin deficiency?”

“You think our insanely healthy children are vitamin deficient?”  Their sons took after Phasma; tall for their age with unruly blond hair and clear blue eyes.

Phasma frowned. “I don’t think I’ve trimmed Atti’s toenails in months” 

“Oh, Atticus bites his nails.”

“What? He bites his toenails? That’s disgusting.”

“I’ll admit that it’s a bit monkey but it’s easier than trimming them with clippers.”

“Hux! That’s unsanitary.”

He looked up from Minecraft to see her starting a new WebMD search. Damnit. He was relieved to see his phone ring. He put Ben on speaker.

“She made me a playlist.” 

Phasma smiled. “Aww. that’s sweet.” 

Hux was suspicious. “This could be bad. What’s on it? Did she make a playlist for you or did you ask her for a playlist?” 

“I told her that I started jogging for this biathlon-“

“Triathlon.” Phasma corrected. 

“She shared her workout playlist with me.”

Ben sent a screenshot.

Hux recoiled. “Ew, it’s on Spotify!”

Phasma snatched the phone away from her husband. “If I have to listen to the two of you to complain about Spotify, I’m going to buy you one of those old person phones with the big numbers. You can turn off the suggested songs feature, you know that right?” 

Hux pouted. “It suggested Gwen Stefani. I’ll never get over it.” 

Phasma rolled her eyes. “That was what, 9 years ago?”

“I was trying to listen to 10,000 Maniacs like any normal person. And it had the audacity to suggest that I listen to a Gwen Stefani song.” 

“Oh my god, you’re like an old vindictive man!” Phasma swatted at Hux as he tried to peek down her shirt. 

He placed a gentle kiss on the crook of her neck. “At a certain age, all you have left is your good taste.” 

“Well said, Huxster.” Ben lifted his crystal glass of scotch.

Phasma’s lips curled into a half smile as Hux pulled her socks off to massage her feet. “You are both turning into old men.” 

Hux studied the list as he admired his wife’s perfect toes. “Want me to nibble your little nails?”

“You’re very gross.” Phasma whispered.

“This isn’t a bad playlist,” Ben said slowly. “Lots of Nirvana, Smoking Popes, Green Day. Those are all perfectly acceptable. Oh look, Birdhouse in Your Soul; that’s romantic.” 

“Oh, I love that song.” Phasma piped in. “It’s so optimistic.”

“Is it? Oh my god, it is! Maybe she’s making space in her heart for me?”

”May I remind you that this is a pre-existing playlist, not a girlfriend-boyfriend thing.” Hux interjected.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” She put Want on by Jawbreaker. That's our wedding song."

“What?” Ben fumbled with his phone, cursing the cracked screen for the millionth time. 

“She might like you!” Hux punched the air triumphantly.

“Oh my god, she might actually like me.” 

Ben fell back into the soft guest room bed. He hugged armful of pillows and let himself daydream about his future. They would name their first child Wesley, whether it was a boy or a girl. He could imagine himself on the couch, a newborn sleeping on his chest. Rey would be curled up beside him, exhausted from painting dead zoo animals.

He popped in airpods and listened to the first song.

We could plant a house, we could build a tree…

Chapter Text

There was no one word that could describe the way Rey felt waking up at Leia’s house. It was serene and slightly chilly, clinical and welcoming. Peaceful. She hadn’t figured out the thermostat or how to set the timer on the coffee maker. She hadn't put her clothing in drawers. Most of the time, she felt like a ghost moving through the silent house. 

The rawest edges of her nerves were mending. Her anxiety quelled by simply knowing where she was going to sleep from one day to the next. She could feel herself slowing down. The mental energy she put into survival was being rechanneled into her artwork. 

The pages of her sketchbooks were steadily being filled. She drew on the bus and at the library. It felt decadent to be so free.

The cats seemed to like having her there. BB8 followed her everywhere and R2D2 had started wagging his tail like a happy dog when he saw her. C-3PO was aloof but meowed at her like he was trying to tell her some important news. He was probably just hungry but she liked the sound of his voice echoing through the house 

-

Hux sat on his bed and held out teaspoon to Phasma. "You have to drink it."

"I’m not that sick." 

He advanced toward her. "I can hold your arms and pour it down your throat."

"Is that a promise?" She raised her eyebrow at him. 

He bit his lip suggestively. "Phas, if you hadn’t been throwing up all morning I’d tear that revolting bathrobe off you in a second. God, you’re so sexy when you’re sick." 

Phasma groaned. "It’s not fair- you didn’t get sick."

"You went out for tacos without me so it certainly does seems very fair to me."

She took the spoon from him and stared at the medicine glumly. "Huxy? I’m so tired of being sick."  

His phone pinged. "I hope Ben got into a fight with a sommelier or something. Phasma reached past him weakly and clicked to put Ben on speakerphone.

"Can you please pick me up at the airport? 

"Absolutely not," Hux answered dismissively.

"You’re in Illium?!" Phasma croaked.

"Um, just today." 

Phasma flopped down headfirst into bed.

Hux nodded at the teaspoon. "Darling, you have to take your medicine." 

"What’s wrong with Phasma?

"Poison tacos," she groaned, finally taking the medicine.

Hux smiled in relief. "The boys have vomited everything they’ve ever eaten. Imagine, if you will, the scent of regurgitated lettuce. And cumin."

"Why are you in town? Should I even ask?"

"Can you give me a ride back to the airport. I need to be there at 4." Ben asked over the sound of Phasma gagging.

☾

"Hello there." 

Rey looked up to see Ben filling the door frame of the painting studio crit room. "Oh my god! Holy shit! Sorry, you scared me." 

"Sorry." He wanted to kick himself in the head. He was off to a bad start already.  

"I didn’t - I didn’t know you were in town." He seemed even taller than she remembered. The room’s low ceiling made him seem severely out of place. He yawned and his long arms hit the ceiling fan.

Rey clutched at her heart. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?" 

"I came for the day. I have to fly out at 5:15 today."

"You came here for 6 hours? That’s crazy."

Was it crazy? Was he scaring her? He studied her. There was no fear in her eyes. She wasn’t scared of him. Her expression was welcoming yet guarded.  It had been impulsive and crazy coming here. He should have called her. 

☾

He had been completely wrong in his assumption that his Uncle didn’t touch his pet fish. After staying at Lando’s house for a week, he realized Lando frequently hand fed his koi, often lying on the floor beside the pond. He would scrub up like a surgeon before petting Ellethree’s broad head, softly singing Taylor Swift songs to her.

His uncle had been getting a craniosacral therapy massage when Ben had mistakenly fed the beloved koi fish frozen shrimp. Lando had seen the empty box in the trash and gone ballastic. Ben had been ordered into the car without further conversation. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the White Plains airport.

"Get out of the fucking car, Solo."

"But- I didn’t know they couldn’t have frozen food."

"Ellethree could have choked." Lando hissed.

"She could have gotten brain freeze?" Ben countered.

"That's not funny and I need you out of my house for the day. My assistant booked you nonstop to Illium."

"I don’t even have a coat." Ben complained. "You told me we were going to Pilates."

Lando unlocked the car doors. "That sounds like a you problem." 

☾

“I’d stay longer but I have to meet Luke’s gallery manager tonight and get a bunch shit straightened out.”

She took in his rumpled hair and stubble. He folded his arms across his broad chest, as trying to make himself smaller.

“Hux told me you were in the studio.” It wasn’t true. Ben wasn’t even sure why he’d lied. He had printed out a copy of her schedule and was using it as a bookmark. 

She looked adorable. Her hair was in tight braids and she was wearing her Cardhardt overalls with a cropped NY sweatshirt.  

“Is that the shirt I sent you? It’s so so-“ he fumbled his words staring at the exposed sides of her stomach. He lost his train of thought. Soft sunlit skin. So close.   

“It’s a child’s small. I had to cut the neck hole to get it on.”

“It’s looks good on you - you look good and nice. It’s good.” He closed his eyes tightly trying to get his brain under control. Stop saying good and no erections.

He turned his attention to her paintings. “These are different from your sketches.” 

“They’re not finished. Everything is still in progress but I wanted to block out the show.” She showed him the layout. “I have four square canvases for individuals; myself and 3 of my cousins. Then this 3x6 of my cousin Plutt and his boyfriend.”

“The scrap metal people?” Ben didn’t like the way his voice sounded snotty but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“What do you think?”

Ben stood back for a minute and then rearranged two images. “I think when people walk in, they should face the screaming child.” He pointed to the painting with the word terrified scrawled into the ashy paint.

“You don’t think it’s too confrontational?”

“Isn’t that the point?” He asked.

“I don’t know what to do with the other big end walls.”

“Aren’t you showing with anyone else?” He had remembered that she was supposed to share the gallery with a landscape painter.

“I was supposed to but they sort of had a flaked out; they opted to take a later slot.” She gestured at a solid neon yellow canvas pinned to the far wall. “One wall is a big painting.”

“It’s huge.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to mount in the gallery, it’s too big to put on stretchers in here. It wouldn’t make it out the door.”

“It’s kind of a sickening color.”

“I want the neon to reflect on the walls and look like it’s coloring the other work. I’m painting the wallspace directly behind each of the other pieces so you sort of see a little glow of yellow bleeding out. It won’t be obvious, just a slight glow.”

He studied the unfinished canvas. “Is the big yellow painting going to be your grandfather?”

“Everyone else is close ups or medium shots but he will be life size, cut off at the knees.”

Her speech had a rehearsed quality that gave him chills but he kept his voice neutral. “You’ve given this a lot of thought?”

She continued on, talking about the lighting. In the space of a moment, he realized he had made a mistake in showing up unannounced. His presence was a distraction. He’d hoped they would pick up where they left off; hands entwined but he realized that he was in the way. He needed to start over. Reestablishing himself in her eyes.

In his overwhelming desire to be near her, he had forgotten that there was still a gulf of space between them. The open window to intimacy was damaged. He had failed to notice because he had skipped so far ahead. Ben had spent a week processing the extent of her grandfather’s crimes - a piece of her history that she had yet to give him. He was desperate for her to catch up to the closeness he felt.

He was in love with her and she was just getting used to the idea of him. The thought of it almost knocked him over.

“I just realized that I barely know anything about you.” He said out loud. Why did he keep saying shit out loud? What the living fuck was wrong with him?

“No kidding. You’ve let a stranger into your life. I meant into your house.” Her eyes dropped to their feet. 

“Will you tell me about these people?” He gestured at the canvases. “Will you tell me about your family?”

“Maybe?” Her demeanor seemed to shift instantly. Her voice suddenly turned evasive and flirty. Batting her eyelashes. Smiling a fake smile. “Will you buy me ice cream?”

“What?”

“Can we go to the old fashion ice cream parkour by the park?”

Rey’s quiet voice was freaking him out. He found himself backing away. “Are you hungry?”

“The social worker at my school always said that she would buy me ice cream if I’d talked about my family but she never did.”

He squared his shoulders. “I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“Can I please have cookies and cream on sugar cone? Maybe we can sit at a booth and talk about our lives.” Her tone was  was flat and sounded like a corporate training video.

He froze staring into her eyes, he felt like he’d been clubbed in the head. He was an idiot, an absolute idiot. There were so many barriers in place, her eyes were cold. He had expected her to simply open up her chest and hand over her heart. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid that he assumed she would be grateful for the opportunity to share her memories with him. It had never occurred to him that her memories were a commodity that she couldn’t afford to give away. 

She stared at his shirt, stretched tight across his broad chest. His perfect fitting adidas track pants and long legs. “Or maybe we should just go somewhere.” 

“No.”

“Oh wait, you like you like to do it in an office setting.”

“No. I mean no thank you.” His heart was thudding in his chest.

“But I thought you liked me,” She whispered eerily.

“We aren’t going anywhere. Not today. I want to be at home with you.”

“Home?”

“Get in the car.”

“Is this how you talked to your office friend from tinder?” She leveled her hazel eyes at him.

“What?”

“Do you order her around? Is that one of your turn-ons?”

“Rey, you’re freaking me out.”

“Good. I can play along. You’ll give me orders and I’ll resist you.”

"We’re not role-playing." 

She scoffed. "Everything is a performance, isn’t it?"

"No." Ben thought of Lando's face at Jannah’s graduation, Han’s expression when he was giving him flight lessons, the calm, even voice Hux had used when he pushed Ben through the airport in a wheelchair. “No, it doesn’t have to be.”

Rey was looking at him with a strange expression. He started for the door. "We’re leaving. Wait, I took an Uber here. Did you happen to drive?"

“Yes. I’m embarrassed to say that I did.” Her voice shifted back to the Rey he knew or thought he knew.

"Why are you embarrassed? I want you to use the car."

"I don't want to take advantage of you."

Ben laughed. "I would love it if you did."

She smiled. "OK then, will you help me put these paintings back in my studio? Ben?" 

He had already started taking down the yellow canvas.  

☾

Ben drove to the upscale grocery store, stomping on the brakes and driving so aggressively that Rey felt like she was going to have whiplash. 

Rey pointed at the ice cream counter. "So you’re not gonna buy me an ice cream cone?"

"No. We don’t have time for that." He walked to the freezer section, returning with two tubs of vegan cookies and cream, stacked up. "Whatever it takes," he whispered.

She grabbed a bottle of white wine and looked for his approval. "Is it too early for wine?"

"Get two bottles. I could give a flying fuck about the time of day." 

Rey grimaced. "Oh shit, these are $12 a piece."

"I couldn’t care less, c’mon."

"So stern," she murmured. 

☾

They sat at opposite ends of the large sectional couch, cats between them. Beige and orange. According to his notes, these were BB8 and C3PO. 

C3PO meowed loudly. Ben pet it and watched as it moved slowly to the back of the couch, where it perched and continued to meow. "Is it hungry?" 

"No, he just meows a lot. I’m not sure why. I think it just likes to talk. Unlike us." 

"Rey, tell me about your parents." 

"I don’t really want to talk about my family."

Ben didn’t want to either. He wanted to talk about the tent he’d bought for them. The camping gear stacked up in Lando's guest suite suddenly seemed like an insane purchase. He’d forgotten to ask her if she even liked camping. 

"Most of my memories of my parents aren’t worth sharing." 

He stared her down. "They must have loved you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so - "

"Easy to abandon? Disposable?" She challenged.

"Otherwise, you wouldn’t have such a good heart."

"Plastic bags," She started hesitantly. "My memories are about bags."

He handed her a glass and struggled with the screw top Chardonnay.

"We didn’t always have an apartment but we always had our car. It was full of bags. We had our stuff in black garbage bags which sound terrible but it was kind of fun. I’d always find stuff in the corners and get excited. I had these PollyPocket dolls with tiny shoes and glasses. I’d get so stressed out and worried about my dolls but then I’d find them under a sweatshirt or something."

Her lips twitched and her voice felt gagged with emotion. "We had bags full of gas station food: Little Debbie’s, Pepsi and Cheetos. She grabbed the bottle from Ben and poured herself a tall glass. I was that kid at school with no socks and my lunch in a plastic bag. Doritos or hostess donuts and pudding cups. 

Ben tried to nod convincingly but she could tell he didn’t have a reference point for poor . She always heard people ask why poor people didn’t shop for food more logically and she always shrugged. Secretly she wanted to push their faces into the ground. When you’re living day to day, you aren’t thinking logically about how many serving a bag of rice might yield. And how were they supposed to make rice? "You probably went to a private school with sushi on Fridays."

"Mondays. Sushi was on Monday, pizza on Friday." 

She heard herself laugh but didn’t feel anything. "My mom had bags with cute sample sized deodorant and shampoos from the food bank. We never had regular sizes. I liked to use the empties for my dolls; I’d pretend the caps were cups. I’m making it sounds sad but it wasn’t. My parents loved music. They’d play Nirvana and we’d sing along or play tic tac toe or hangman. My dad had a guitar - he had a great voice." 

Ben wasn’t sure what kind of expression his face should have so he concentrated on the way she moved her hands when she spoke. He refused to be scared of her pain. His foot rested against hers and it suddenly occurred to her that she was freezing cold. Fucking thermostat. He pulled a blanket over her legs.

"And then there were tiny baggies of pills. I wasn’t allowed to touch those. Then later, there were bags of makeup my mother would use to cover bruises. They were addicts. They’d take me to school and then go to my grandfathers to get high while I was at school."

"I’m sorry, Rey."

She nodded. "I never tell anybody this stuff. I used to when I was like 14 but then I realized that telling people didn’t change anything. Pity is OK but it limits you. When people put you in a damaged category and it ends up meaning different things than it should."

"Like what?"

"Like that you are a lost cause or you’re not worth as much as regular people." 

He gently rested a hand on her ankle. "I don’t think of you like that."

His warmth felt soothing on her leg. She stared at his hand as though it was a foreign life form. "How do you think of me, Ben?"

"You’re in your own category. That’s unlikely to change." 

"We’ll see about that." She drained her glass. Her voice grew cold. "My parents died on my birthday. I used to love my birthday. They took me to school and they said they were going to get cupcakes from the store. They were supposed to bring them before lunch but they didn’t show up. I found out later that They OD’d in the grocery store parking lot. My mom died on the spot. My dad died on the way to the hospital."

"Heroin?"

"It was a combination of Ecstasy, Fentanyl, Percocet. It took me a very long time to stop thinking that they chose drugs over me. Maybe I still think that." She looked up at the ceiling. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Painted copper tiles. This ceiling was worth a small fortune. "I know the whole addiction is a disease thing but it’s different when it’s your parents. I needed them. I miss them. I missed being a regular kid. I don’t know how to be mature about it. I still haven’t gotten to that point where I can feel compassion. That part of me is still 7."

"It’s OK to be mad." 

She liked that he didn’t try to comfort her or correct her. 

"So then I went to live with my grandfather. He was absolutely terrifying; like a switch that turned on and off. Happy, drinking beer in the backyard, then a cloud would pass and he’d say I was a little pig and throw my clothes in the garbage. My cousin Plutt had it so much worse and I never did anything to help him. Or any of my cousins who got stranded there by my shitty Aunt and Uncles. We just survived I - I made myself useful and I didn’t get hit as much." 

She had stopped looking at him, her feet nervously tapped out an unknown rhythm. His hand stayed grounded on her ankle. 

"My grandfather would make jokes about my cousin’s weight and we’d all laugh. I feel sick about it now. I was happy for him when he moved out. He started dating this older guy and dropped out of high school. When I got older, things got really bad, I’d ride my bike to my cousin Plutt’s for days. Plutt was a shitty person but he was consistently shitty. No surprises. His boyfriend was a metal scrapper and we would break into places stealing copper pipes and tools from construction sites. They lived in this horror movie apartment in Jakku Heights, it’s a garbage part of town."

"I know where it is,” he said quickly. "I did habitat for humanity there in high school. For community service hours."

"Plutt and his boyfriend were only around a couple days a week but they kept the water running and the electricity stayed on most of the time." 

"They were OK to you?" Ben couldn't bring himself to ask if they'd hurt her. 

"Most of the time they forgot about me which was fine. I took care of myself. When I got older I started going to the library after school." A peaceful expression settled on her face thinking about her library.

"And things got better?"

"Sort of." She inhaled sharply. "I didn’t tell you the truth about Mr. Jinn."

Ben didn’t react, waiting for her to continue.

"I um, I helped my grandfather. I wasn’t just a bystander. I made stuff, cut stuff together. Weighed stuff. Dissolved pills. Everything. We melted jolly ranchers and infused them with water boiled with used fentanyl patches. Gross, I know." 

Ben had forgotten to breathe. 

"I’d do runs with my Grandfather, sometimes make the deliveries. When he came to the library that day it was because I was supposed to drive him to his supplier. And I also lied to you when I said I called the drug hotline. That makes it sound so simple."

"It didn't happen like that?" 

"No. I called it on myself. Did my research. I waited until the first of the month in the morning so we’d have a higher quantity. I made sure we had the scales and drug crap in the car. I pretended like there was something wrong with the tires and I stopped in front of a school so there would be aggravated charges. If you’re near a school it, it makes it worse." 

"You - you planned on getting caught?"

She looked away. "I thought I’d be charged as a juvenile. I was 17. But I spent six months in jail. I missed my graduation. I had gotten into SVA, in New York - my dream school. But they dropped me."

"That’s terrible."

"Life is pain," she quoted from The Princess Bride.

"Anyone who says different is selling something." He finished the line for her.

"So I went back to the other two schools I’d gotten into, Illium and Wellesley College. I begged to be admitted. I wrote to somebody at Illium but it was Hux who called me.” Her lips started to twitch. “He let me in, despite everything. Full scholarship for the first year which let me get back on my feet. It was called the Alderaan scholarship." 

"Alderaan Scholarship?" Ben felt a chill run through him. 

"I don’t know how he managed to make it happen so fast but he said that the Alderaan Scholarship was for students who had been incarcerated. It was such godsend." Tears started to pool in her eyes. "I can’t begin to tell you how it felt when Hux told me I could come to Illium. I went back to my cell and I just knew I could survive anything. Everything after that day has been bearable. Everything."

Rey stood up with her glass. "I don’t think I can finish this wine. Maybe it was too early." She left him on the couch. Her leg felt strange, where his hand had been. She felt like she missed him, even though he was only in the other room.  She stood at the kitchen window, determined not to cry. R2-D2 sat in the sink, his tail wagged like a puppy.

She froze hearing Ben’s footsteps approaching. She couldn’t even look at him, certain that pity in his eyes would destroy her. She drew up to her full height, jaw clenched. "You got what you wanted, so what happens now?"

"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously.

"You wanted to hear my sad tragic story and you got it. Now you can feel sorry for me or whatever. Maybe you’ve got a little kink for crying, impoverished women."

The anger in her voice cooled his blood. "I don’t -"

She couldn't bear the way he was looking at her. There was too much tenderness in his eyes. Her eye twitched. "So do we fuck now? It’s your house, I’ll let you choose the room. You can even choose the position. I’m a fairly vanilla girl but you did listen to my sob story so you should get some kind of reward." 

"Stop it. Please. I’m not here to fuck you."

"Just a pity party then? You just wanted to watch me cry. Do you just like hearing about people’s shitty lives? Are you going to make art about my fucked up childhood now?"

"No." 

"Why are you doing this, Ben? Why are you asking about my life? Why on earth do you care?"

"Because I like you."

She inhaled sharply. "And you think that I’m going to somehow going to like you better if I unload my garbage memories on you? You think I’m just desperate to pour out my soul to someone? Because I’m not; it doesn’t matter if someone knows what I went through. It doesn’t magically make someone care about you."

Ben watched her eye twitching and made his voice softer. "I’m not asking about your family because I think it will make you like me."

"Then why fucking bother?" Her anger surprised her and she raised her hand as if she could catch the words out of the air.

"Because I want to be your boyfriend."

It wasn't the response she expected. "Why - why do you think you need to know about my past to be my boyfriend?"

"Because in order to be a good boyfriend, I need to understand you. You deserve that."

"Are you attracted to me?" 

Ben couldn't hold back a small smile. "I think about you all the time. All the time."

"You do?"

His smile grew wide. She didn't seem scared at all hearing that he was obsessed with her. She was actually smiling. "Rey, I think about you constantly." 

"Then why don’t you want me?"

"I do but I want to kiss you for the first time on your birthday." 

"But that’s in 5 days."

Ben dug his hands in his pockets. "I’m coming back. I’ll fly in after my Thursday meeting, if you’ll have me."

"It’s your house, you don't have to ask if you can come."

"Will you have me?"

She nodded.

He opened his arms hesitantly. His chin lowered, his dark eyes locked into her. "Let me try to give you a nice birthday? I don’t deserve you but let me try."

Rey felt like her feet were encased in cement. It felt like the dreams she had where her limbs didn't function. She willed her legs to move. A step forward and his large hands landed on her shoulders. His palms slid across her back, his arms moved slowly around her, encircling her, pulling her chest close. He smelled like nutmeg and warm cotton, sweat and lavender. He folded her into his arms. Slowly, she unfolded her arms from his chest and reached around him. They stood still in the silent kitchen. She listened to the sound of his heart beating steadily. 

☾

Ben eyes filled with tears. He stood in front of the large glass window at the end of the airport terminal. For the first time since his Mother’s death, he sobbed uncontrollably. He didn't care who saw him, he didn't care that he was making his fellow travelers totally uncomfortable. Wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve, tears ran down his cheeks into his mouth. He called his best friend. 

"Hux, I’m at the airport."

“Oh geezus, what’s wrong now? I thought you needed a ride."

"I know what you did." Ben's voice strained with emotion.

"I hate it when people start conversations like this.”

"You let Rey into Illium University."

There was a very long pause on Hux's end. Finally, he answered in a neutral voice. "Yes, I did."

"You paid for her tuition, didn’t you? 

Hux was silent. "I’m not going to discuss my student’s financial matters with you."

"The Alderaan Scholarship? That’s the mythical city in your first book? There was no scholarship." Ben stated simply.

"I had just sold the rights to the first book. It was an obscene amount of money."

"You saved her. My her. You saved Rey." Ben sniffled. 

"No comment." 

"Hux, I love you." 

After a moment, he heard his friend exhale slowly. "Right back at you, big guy." 

Chapter Text

Ben had always felt self conscious about talking on the phone in public. It struck him as a little odd since he had no qualms about simply talking to himself. He had made Rey laugh the previous evening, talking about how he had started purposefully talking to himself in grocery stores. He could see no downside to having people scatter while he searched for Peanut Butter Captain Crunch. 

BenSolo: I'm in the fanciest grocery store in the world. Bill Clinton shops here. I can walk around with a goblet of Chianti while I shop

Reybees: Hate to break it to you but you're still drinking Chianti. Stocking up on sugary cereal and chai tea isn't going to make it taste any better. 

BenSolo: How did you know I liked chai tea?

Reybees: Because your skin smells like it

BenSolo: 🖤
BenSolo: You smell like an open window in spring

Reybees: Irish Spring
Reybees: LOL. Kidding, sort of. I don’t mind a manly soap. But I wear the same perfume as my mother did. 

BenSolo: What is it called?

Reybees: Live in Love

Ben stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the grocery store aisle and looked up her perfume on Amazon. For $20.60, all his pillows could smell just like Rey.

Reybees: Are you looking up my perfume? It's a more of a drug store perfume. 

Rey didn’t reveal that she had frequently resorted to shoplifting her perfume.

BenSolo: Would it be weird for you if we wore the same perfume? I really like how you smell.

Reybees: Hang on, Solo. I like the way you smell too.
Reybees: In fact, I like it immensely.
Reybees: Off to class.

Ben's smile bloomed and he turned to the picture of Captain Crunch on his cereal box. "She likes me. Or at least she likes the way I smell! Immensely. It's really something. I like her so much..." He clutched the box like a teddy bear and other shoppers turned their carts in the opposite direction. 

☾

Ben dialed Hux as he put away groceries. Lando had his Airpods in, probably listening to one of his mind numbing history podcasts. Yesterday, Ben had accidently learned more than he ever wanted to know about the cause of the Hindenburg Disaster. His thoughts drifted again and again to avoidable catastrophes. Lando frowned as Ben put his box of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch on top of the frig. He handed the box back to Ben with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you doing? This isn't a frat house. Put it in a cupboard like an adult." 

“But you keep fish food up there.”

“Those are Ellethree’s vitamin snacks. They improve her memory, eyesight and glossiness.”

When Hux answered, Ben could tell he was driving. According to his updated All Things Hux Calendar, his friend would be on his way to teach his History of the Graphic Novel course. 

"You didn't have to buy me shoes."

"Do you like them?" In appreciation for his best friend, Ben had sent Hux a pair of pristine Doc Martens. When they had first become friends, he and Hux had gone to the mall to buy a pair for Ben. These are the right kind of shoes, Hux had explained to him. He had not said it outright but Ben understood that he meant that these were the right kind of shoes for them. They were united as misfits. 

"I do like them. They're just as uncomfortable as I remember. But you don't have to buy me stuff."

"There's another package coming today. I got you a watch. I found a Tag Heuer Autavia on Etsy. It's just like the one you lost."

"God Ben, those are expensive!"

Ben hummed happily. "It was that or a family cruise. Same exact price."

"Phasma would rather eat canned corn than put our kids on a cruise ship."

"What’s wrong with canned corn?”

“I’ll let her explain it to you sometime. She’d love to tell you all about the dangers of canned foods. According to her, it's on par with eating an asbestos shingle.” Hux pulled into his faculty parking spot. "What are you doing today? Are you in New York?"

Ben grabbed a set of keys and wove through rooms to Lando's garage. "I'm meeting David Zwirner today. He knows I'm moving to Illium so I thought I'd let him cut me loose, face to face."

Hux sighed. "Zwirner might not care where you live."

"He's a gallerist, he’s bound to know that I'm taking over Leia's gallery. He isn't going to want to represent me if I’m running my own space.”

”Well, good luck old friend. May the force be with you.”

☾

Ben stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He had repeatedly punched the soap dispenser and wasn’t sure how to explain the deep cuts on his hands to his gallerist, David Zwirner. They were meeting at Felucia Bar and Grill in Chappaqua for a 'chat’. He’d been surprised that his long time representative had agreed to meet him. He was sure that Zwirner was about to drop him as an artist and Ben’s instincts told him that it would be better to get it over with quickly.

It was Luke’s voice he needed to hear at times like this. It was Luke who he always pretended to talk to during times of true crisis. He had spent so much time with his Uncle that imaginary conversations could ooze up out of thin air. He could always manifest Luke’s craggy voice:

LUKE
You better get out there, kid. Zwirner is a punctual mother fucker. 

Luke would fix Ben with that stare. It was a stare that he and Leia had perfected over time. He felt like they could see straight through him. It was the stare that had silenced him after he’d cut up Luke’s painting. Luke and Leia had peered into his soul and neither of them liked what they saw. Ben had always felt like a fraud around his Uncle. He felt like his own artwork was too nostalgic, drawing too much on the past. When Luke had seen the first bridge he’d built in Belarus, he immediately noted that it looked like a sad copy of the Alcántara Bridge in Extremadura, Spain. Ben clearly remembered the feeling that the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. What was sadder, making an subpar artwork or finding out that your best attempt at bridge design wasn’t even remotely original?

Ben knew would never be fully grounded in his own artwork like his Uncle, he would never wear a crown of his own making. The greatness of the Skywalker name had been diminished by him. The only time he’d ever made headlines was when he tried to destroy his Uncle's work. His entire career could be reduced to a Buzzfeed article on family betrayal.

LUKE
Get over yourself, kid. Zwerner is probably hoping you’re going to tell him that you’re dying of some weird disease. Can you imagine how excited the artworld would be if you died at age 31? 

Despite the years of conflict, Ben missed Luke down to the core of his soul. His Mother, his Father, Luke - the people he loved most and had worked so hard to push away. 

LUKE
This conversation with Zwirner is a battle of wits and don’t forget, he’s smarter than you. Let him feel like he's in charge.

Ben could picture his Uncle smoothing over his scraggly beard as he delivered his lines. He closed his eyes and pretended Luke was beside him. “You’d know exactly what to say to him but I don’t.”

☾

His gallerist, David Zwirner, looked like he’d stepped straight out of a JCrew catalogue. Jeans, a blinding white button down and simple grey slippers that looked like they’d been hand crafted by elves. Zwirner shook his head at Ben’s shaggy hair and bleeding knuckles. “You look great, Solo.”

Ben cracked his neck like a boxer ready for a fight. “Look at this shirt you're wearing. Good for you, Dave!"

Zwirner tried to pull the top of his gaping shirt together where he'd lost a button. “I almost stopped at Target, I knew you were going to make fun of me.”

”Please unbutton one more button. Go full on Fabio.”

“Check this out." His gallerist started reading to him from an exhibition catalog:

Lucas Arruda’s newest work Assum Preto is titled after a species of blackbird native to eastern Brazil—whose mundane birdsong is said to transform into a beautiful melody if the bird’s eyesight has been shaded—Assum Preto continues Arruda’s investigations into light and darkness, and their metaphysical effects. As the artist observes, “It seems that these birds get distracted by everything in their surroundings, so they sing out of tune and in a dispersed way. Blindness is what makes them sing harmonically. 

Zwirner tossed the catalog at him and took a long sip of tea. "Now that’s an artist’s statement. Why can’t you write like that?" 

"Lucas' paintings are good." Ben stated simply drinking a beer. 

"You couldn’t have seen that show. I would have heard. My gallery manager keeps a picture of you on her desk."

"Like the pictures taped on cash registers of people not allowed in the store?" 

"No, she thinks you’re cute." Zwirner laughed.

"Huh."

"Solo, it’s like you get dumber with age which is sad but sort of refreshing."

Ben tried to reign in his nerves while he handed the older man a set of darts. He held his darts carefully but was surprised that the tips were so sharp. "I saw the show before the opening. The installation crew let me in."

Ben took the first turn, his dart hitting the wall.

Zwirner hit the number 1 on the inner circle. "So what’s happening here? You’re going to let me win at darts while you check your phone?"

"I’m not letting you win." Ben hit the number 20 on the outer circle. 

Ben hit the 4 in the outer circle but the dart dropped to the floor.  "That still counts."

“Har, har, har.” Zwirner rolled his eyes. He twirled a dart, switching hands. "You only think you’re keeping up with me because I’m not even trying. I’m playing left handed so you’ll feel better about yourself." He threw from his right hand and easily hit the green inner circle. 

Ben stared at the dart board intensely. He wondered how Luke would handle the situation. He tried to summon his Uncle's voice but nothing came. The guidance he longed for was not going to come; he was alone here. He missed his next shot. Zwirner checked his Apple Watch and hit the number 2, inner circle. He sipped his tea and Ben could tell the esteemed gallerist was losing interest in him. He was going to get dumped. 

The dart felt light in his hand as he tossed it up in the air. He looked over at the older man and inhaled slowly. This was his chance. He tossed his dart up in the air again, catching it with the opposite hand. "It's kind of funny because I wasn’t trying to win. Guess what? I’m not left handed either. Ben’s next dart hit the bullseye. “Game on, old man."

Zwirner laughed. "There you go. Drop the bullshit, it doesn’t really suit you. Now what’s going on?"

Ben took a deep breath and explained the move to Illium, the teaching position, taking over his mother’s gallery, closing Luke’s Foundation. Instead of dropping him as an artist, the older gallerist offered him a job. 

"For the next two years, I want you to consult for me." 

"And what do I get?" Ben was taken aback.

Zwirner rolled his eyes. "A salary. Geezus, what were you expecting I’d say? Like I’m going pay you in grizzly bears? Or mopeds?"

"I thought you weren’t going to represent me anymore." 

"I will drop you if you say no. Or if you disappear. I want you in New York twice a month, minimum, for studio visits and openings. You need to be visible." Zwirner ordered two glasses of champagne. The young bartender moved slowly, annoyed that she had to deal with the complicated cork.

"I wasn’t visible when I lived here." Ben could hear the whine rising in his voice. Twice a month? How would Rey possibly be able to travel that much with him? He forced himself to take a deep breath. The boyfriend app said he needed to create boundaries and give her healthy time alone but his emotions raced forward without logic. My god, how would she be able to navigate the subway when their children were in strollers? 

Zwirner handed him a champagne flute and clinked glasses. "C’mon work for me and I’ll make all your dreams come true."

Ben stared at his gallerist, dumbfounded. "Are you quoting Napoleon Dynamite to me?"

“I am.”

Ben could almost hear Luke chuckling over his shoulder. He braced himself. "I have one condition: my Uncle Luke’s work - "

"Oh, hard pass." 

"I want you to represent his estate."

"Not a chance. Luke is too mainstream."

"I’ll arm wrestle you for it?" Ben challenged him, holding up his arm. 

The older gallerist burst out laughing. 

Zwirner ordered a second round of champagne. "First, pretend I'm a collector, tell me where the market is headed."

"5 years or long term?" 

"Both." 

Ben tried to sound airy and confident. "I'd tell you that you should be investing in First Nation art. Mid century if possible. Blackfoot, Chyanne, Cherokee, Commanche."

"Be specific, dumdum." 

"OK, no need to be rude. Nampio, she’s  a Hopi potter."

"Short term?"

"You should represent the Jan Svenkmajer estate. Nail that shit down."

"Oh, hell no." 

Ben smirked. "You passed on Chris Marker, despite my advice. Peter Blum has him now."

"All right. All right. I don’t get his work but I know it matters."

“And you’ll represent Luke’s estate?”

"I thought we were arm wrestling for it?" Zwirner started rolling up his sleeves. 

"I don’t want to hurt you" Ben said theatrically and put up his arm. “Do you have a medical alert bracelet or something?”

The 20 year old bartender recorded the brief arm wrestling match, not knowing who the two men were, and posted it to instagram. She tagged it #idiotsinlove. 

"You win, doofus." Zwirner huffed. 

"You’ll represent Luke? I’ll let the licensing contracts expire which will clear in 3. His work disappears for 5 years. Then we announce a retrospective."

"I want 8 years with no more puzzles or backpacks? Not one coach purse or Nike collaboration."

"I’ll shut it all down." 

"And I want in on your Illium gallery. Silent partner." 

"Isn’t Illium a little off brand for you, Dave?"

”Shut up, Solo. Have some manners and just say Thank You.”

☾

A bell chimed as Rey entered the Art Restoration studio. An older woman in a striped shirt came out to the reception area. "Oh hey, are you here for the Rookwood Pottery?"

Rey looked behind her before answering. "No, I’m dropping off for The Resistance Gallery." She held up the box from Leia's closet.

The woman cocked her head in confusion.

"It's for Leia Organa?"

"Oh yeah, of course. Come in. I’m Jess." She looked at the box Rey was carrying. "What do you have in there?"

"It’s a Calder. I kind of thought someone was going to call you?" Fucking Kaydel. Was she too busy making a honeymoon mood board to make a fucking phone call?

Jess peaked inside the box. "No way! My boss loves Calder. He’s gonna freak out." She confidently took the box out of Rey’s arms. "Oh my god, you have one of the Ben Solo boxes?" Rey froze as Jess snatched the black box out of the container with gloved hands. She turned it upside down, gingerly. "Oh wait, we already have this one. She opened the box. "Do you mind if I take this box and put it with the others?"

Rey nodded mutely, confused.

Jess pointed to the door of the art restoration studio. “I’ll start a new ticket on the Calder. We have all your info so we’ll just run it through the Resistance Studio main account.”

“Oh, OK.” Rey decided it was better to play along and get the Calder into the hands of the restoration shop. Kaydel could figure it out between manicure appointments.

“Hey, do you want to see the rest of these?” She held up the black box.

“Um, sure?”

She followed the woman to a generic looking studio work bench.

“When Ben Solo cut up the Skywalker Painting, he titled each piece with the number cut it was. She tapped the black square. This box held #4.” Jess pulled out the top drawer of a flat file. Inside were 10 black boxes. Leia had been buying up pieces over the years. She got this one from a collector in Glasgow. Her brother had one that’s in his collection and then there are two others unaccounted for.”

“Was Leia trying to buy the whole set for her gallery?”

Jess fixed her with a perplexed smile. “No. She was buying them up so Luke’s painting could be put back together again.”

“But that was her son’s art - cutting up Luke’s painting was the project that put Ben on the map. It’s his most important artwork.”

Jess shrugged. “Solo’s statement was that he was the owner of the work and he was making it more relevant by destroying it. Leia was making her own statement by undoing his act and making her brother’s painting whole again. She was really close to her goal; she just needed those last pieces.”

“Well, hell.”

☾

Hux walked up the his driveway to his house. The warm cozy lights were on which meant Phasma and the kids were already home from basketball practice. He loved being the last one home, when she was starting dinner. She would be exasperated with the boys and he would get to be the hero when he handed her a glass of wine and took the boys on a dog walk. 

He picked up the packages on the front porch. He hoped that Amazon had finally delivered the Razorcrest Lego set for Atticus and Cosimo to fight over. The smaller box stopped him in his tracks. He had forgotten about Ben's gift. He opened the box slowly and found himself face to face with a Tag Heuer Autavia watch. It was the same make and model timepiece Hux had worn every day of high school and into college. His father’s watch.

He had lied to Ben about it, telling him that he’d lost the watch on his 21st birthday. That was the night that Phasma, the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, had called him out of the blue. They had met an art opening at the Brooklyn Museum. She had been part of Dita Von Teese's entourage, promoting a collaboration with Christian Louboutin. Ben and Hux had been tongue tied around the models, dressed in black and white kimono robes tossed over lingerie. Phasma was way, way out of his league and he had been dumbstruck when she’d invited him to her hotel room. Predictably, he'd botched things badly by accidentally stepping on her cellphone in the middle of the night. He'd gotten glass stuck in his toes and had to call Ben to take him to the ER. She called two months later, as he was having his first legal drink, to inform him that she was pregnant. 

Hux had left Ben behind at the birthday party and walked down to the Illium River. The current was swift from steady rains and the water was a deep shade of gray. Hux knew he should be scared of fatherhood, scared to be having a baby with a virtual stranger but deep down inside, he'd never been so happy in his entire life. He took off his father’s watch, a symbol of everything he never wanted to be, and threw it as far as he could. He watched it drop harmlessly into the dark water.

”You’ll never hurt me again.”

Chapter Text

Phasma sat in the basement drinking a glass of chardonnay. The kids were in bed and she was watching Hux play Minecraft. He was placing blocks of snow in a grassy area. Four blocks wide in a long path toward a white building. 

"I can’t believe you do this every single night. I thought you were watching porn."

Hux looked up. "Every night?"

She shrugged. "You do this and smoke clove cigarettes?"

"Would it be alright if I smoked one now?" Hux looked hopeful. "I'll crack the window"

"No."

"They only contain 70% tobacco." Hux pulled the pack out of his bag, despite his wife’s frown. "What? I'm just going to look at them."

Phasma’s phone beeped and she answered a frantic Ben Solo. 

"Rey found my tinder profile. She just sent me a screenshot of it." 

"Hi, Ben."

"Are you getting on Minecraft?" Hux asked casually.

"Are you two even listening to me?! Is my audio not working? Blink twice if you can hear me."

Phasma turned to Hux. "What’s the differences between tinder and grindr?"

"Grindr is more for gay and bisexual men." Hux explained 

"Oh my god, you two! This is an emergency!" Ben fumed.

Phasma turned her glass in the light, checking for hairline cracks. She was well accustomed to Ben's emergencies. "Oh, I thought grindr and tinder were the same. Is there a problem with her seeing your profile?

Ben nodded. "Yes. Probably. Can you help me find her profile?"

Hux bristled. "My wife is not going on tinder."

"Why not?" Phasma asked. "It’ll be so much fun."

"You’re a 6’2 blond model." 

"Former model." She corrected. "I’m just a mom and a bailiff now. People don’t look at me like that anymore, Huxy." 

"We both know that’s not true." He lunged at her, kissing her squarely between the eyes.

"I’m 42. I’m very low on the food chain. Let me download tinder."

Hux wrestled her phone out of her hand. "Oh fuck no. I’m not having you go on some app were you see what other options are out there. You’ll end up replacing me with some barista named Adam."

"Oh honey, baristas don’t have good health insurance like you." She watched his face grow stoney. "Oh Huxy, I’m kidding. Don’t pout." 

"You can use my login just don’t look at my profile." Ben cautioned.

"C'mon Ben, what on earth is your profile? I promise I won’t show Hux."

A second later, a screenshot of Ben's profile arrived and Phasma immediately turned it to show her husband. 

"Jesus Ben." Phasma breathed.

"I know."

-----
Ben, 31

INTO: Looking for a steady fuck. No relationships.

Mutual respect is a must, emotional attachment is not an option

Swipe right if you want to be my slut 

Swipe left if you’re anyone else.
-----

"Holy shit, Ben!" Phasma recoiled at her screen.

"Well I’m wide awake now." Hux turned back to minecraft.

"What am I going to do? I want to stab myself. I want to get a big knife from the kitchen and stab myself in the heart." 

Phasma sighed. "I can't believe you you have this out there in the world. Blech."

"I’m supposed to go to Illium in the morning. It's Rey's birthday tomorrow. You're going to help me find her profile?"

“Why do you want to find hers?” Phasma questioned.

“If her profile is worse than mine then she can’t hate me.” Ben’s words tumbled out in a rush.

"No, no, no. We're going to change your profile into the man you want her to know."

"I'm not that person from my profile anymore." He said quietly. 

"I don't think you ever were, Ben."

☾

Ben's hands shook as he messaged Rey. Her phone was set on Do Not Disturb.

BenSolo: Please check my profile again. 

ReyBees: Is there a dick picture now? I'm tired. I have class in the morning.

BenSolo: Please?

BenSolo: Please?

BenSolo: PLEASE

ReyBees: Fine. Found you.

He waited while she checked the profile that he and Phasma had created together. 

-----
Ben, 31

INTO: healthy, enthusiastic sex

Looking for a steady fuck. Monogamy. A rey of light in my darkness.

Mutual respect is a must, emotional attachment to anchor me 

Swipe right if you can overlook my flaws, Rey

Swipe left if you’re anyone else 
-----

BenSolo: I'll delete it as soon as 

Before he could finish typing his sentence,  a user named iamindigomontoya had swiped right. 

BenSolo: Can I read your profile, Rey?

He felt himself melting with contentment as he clicked on her profile.

BenSolo: It says you're into Terrence Malick, real art and emotional stability.

ReyBees: I'm flexible on that last one. 

BenSolo: I like Terrence Malick too. I wish I was there, holding your hand. 

ReyBees: Me too.

BenSolo: My profile didn't scare you off?

ReyBees: I told you before, I really don't think you're all that scary. 

BenSolo: I'm sorry I’m a horrible person.  Can delete your profile now?

ReyBees: Why? 

BenSolo: I'm possessive

☾

As they pulled out of the drive-thru, Lando handed Ben his Starbucks, "Hold this for a second."

"Chai Mocha Frappe with double whipped cream?" Ben frowned. "I'm scared for you."

Lando rolled his eyes. "You eat flavor blasted cheddar goldfish like they're air, you don't get a vote. Grab me a metal straw. They're in the glove compartment."

"You'll cut your lip if we're in an accident." Ben warned. “It could puncture your trachea.”

Lando turned his 2022 Audi RS 5 onto the expressway. "Ebony Magazine wants do a photoshoot with us. Top 10 Most Influential African American Art Collectors and their consultants. I think we should stage it to look like we’re in the middle of a flood and we’re waiting on a rooftop to be rescued."

Ben frowned. "Absolutely not. That’s in terrible taste. What's wrong with you?"

"I’m joking, I'm joking." Lando wasn’t joking but saw that he needed to move on to his next idea. "What if we’re in a boxing ring? I can wear a mouthguard and you can be like my trainer."

"Nope."

It was Lando's turn to frown. "What if we’re working together to move that massive KAWS sculpture out of my fucking house?"

"You need to let the market rebound before you sell it. It will double in ten years. Everybody is going to want the wood ones. It's the best of the whole series."

"I'll be dead by then." Lando complained. 

"You’ve got #1 in an edition of 100."

"That thing is an edition? Geezus. Why did you talk me into buying it?"

Ben turned to him, mouth open. "You picked it out! You sent me a picture and said get that for me." 

"Well, I didn’t understand how big it was. It's atrocious." Lando had hated the sculpture from the moment it arrived in his house. 

"We’ve talked about this several times. Maybe I need to start giving you some of Ellethree's fishy vitamins." Ben stared out the window. "I think any photoshoot with me will reflect poorly on you."

"Who the hell do you think I am, kid?" Lando narrowed his eyes. "My image is established. I’m 78 years old and I’m worth 45 million dollars. I’m hoping to round that up to 50 soon." 

Ben looked up as they turned into the White Plains airport. "If you’re so rich, tell me again why you don’t have your own plane?"

Lando was forcing Ben to fly to Illium with Chewie. His Father’s tall, quiet Serbian friend collected Beechcraft aircrafts and did a brisk business flying private passengers between New York and Washington DC.

The G36 Bonanza they were flying today had once belonged to his father. Han had bought it for himself before he was married and Leia always referred to the plane as his first wife. He named it the Millennium Falcon and kept framed pictures of it on his desk. Leia had offered it to Ben when Han died but he had declined. Chewie would give it a better home. 

☾

Ben settled into the copilot’s seat like he was coming home. Chewie had offered him the chance to pilot but he had declined. He hadn’t flown since his father’s death. He loved flying but it felt like he was betraying his Father somehow. This had been something they loved to do together; the thought of flying without Han made his chest feel heavy.

Chewie was a classic multi-tasker. Though he didn’t move quickly, he was always doing two things at once. Today, he was preparing a soft taco from a multi-sectioned tupperware container. He smiled happily, making flight preparations at the same time as he layered sour cream and pico de gallo together. 

"Can’t you wait to eat?”

Chewie didn’t respond, gingerly opening a tiny bottle of hot sauce. 

'Here, I can help you with that - I think you need your hands free. Jesus!" 

“Не хвала ти.” Chewie spoke with his mouth full.

"I’m not offering to be nice, I don’t want to fly into the side of a barn because you’re too busy sprinkling shredded cheese everywhere. Oh my god, now move over!"

Ben quickly switched seats with him, yanking the headset out of Chewie’s long curly hair. 

Chewie chuckled softly. “Глупи дечко.” 

Ben frowned. “I’m not stupid. You’re reckless. You cannot make guacamole while you fly a plane; I don’t care who you are.”

It took a full ten minutes before Ben realized that his father’s best friend had tricked him into flying. “I fell for it, didn’t it? You wanted me to fly?”

Chewie laughed and made himself another taco.

☾

They were circling the small Illium airstrip used by private planes, waiting for their turn to land. “Han should not have been driving car,” Chewie said in broken his English.

"I know. I shouldn’t have gone to Italy. I should picked him up at the airport. I was so high. And stupid and selfish and-"

"Han should not driving car, not at all." Chewie’s heavily accented voice seemed even deeper over the headset. "He had the macular degeneration disease; he couldn’t see at night."  

"What?"

"He wanted no one to know. He didn't want to stop flying or driving. I had promised him that I tell no one but I think you have a right to know." 

Ben stared at his Father’s best friend in disbelief. "Maybe you should take the controls, Chewie. I don’t think I’m up for the landing."

☾

Ben had arrived without warning at Rey's library half an hour before closing. Despite the No Unauthorized Personal signs, he confidently strode into the Teens Only Section of the Illium library carrying a large bag of ring pops. The boyfriend app said it was too soon for real rings. Rey's face broke into a smile when she saw him. A radiant smile. She actually was glad to see him. He shook the bag and was delighted when her students greeted him with outstretched hands. 

She hugged herself as she looked at the bag of ring pops. “What have I told you guys about taking candy from strangers?”

“He ain't strange, Miss Rey, he's your boyfriend.”

Ben smiled smugly. He looked at Rey, waiting for her to correct them. When she peered into the bag, his face broke into a goofy grin. 

“Did you hear that?” Ben whispered. “I'm your boyfriend now. It’s official.”

“It’s not a democracy. Do you have any green apple ones left?”

He took a Sour Apple out of its package and slipped it on her finger. She flushed as the students broke out in a chorus of Awwwww. 

“Ohh look, Miss Rey's got herself a real boyfriend now.”

Rey turned an even deeper shade of red. “Um, I don't know if -“

“Don't go denying it.”

A large boy with twisted dreads tilted his head at Ben thoughtfully. “Hope you got her a real present. I gave her a bag of Hershey.”

The girl he recognized as Qira smacked him arm. “Shoot, you know Miss Rey's a vegan. She doesn’t eat milk chocolate.”

Ben watched as the boy's face fell in disappointment. 

Rey smiled and patted his arm. “I do. I loved it. Thank you, Kamari.”

Ben smiled his dazzling smile. “Qira told me that Rey likes drawings so that's what I got her.” 

“You drew something for her?” Qira asked.

“Naw, I'm not that good. I got someone else to draw it for me.” Ben answered truthfully.

“She doesn't like it when you do tracing. You've got to try drawing for real.” Qira cautioned. 

☾

Ben and Rey stood alone in the kitchen, R2D2 sat in the sink watching them. Ben narrowed his eyes at the cat. “Get your dirty little paws out of there.”

The large grey cat, curled his tail around his body and got comfortable. He fixed Ben with a bored stare.

Ben handed Rey a Hello Kitty Gift bag with a package inside. "Happy birthday, Rey."

“Pretty wrapping paper.” She offered as she tore the Elmo paper. 

“Only the finest drugstore wrapping paper for you.”

“Wait it's - she froze and turned to Ben in surprise. You can't be serious. I can't accept this.” She held the Elizabeth Peyton drawing of Ben. 

“My - my app said it was too soon for jewelry but it said that handmade items were OK.” He stammered. 

“Ben this is too valuable. This is your favorite thing. I don't know what to say.” She studied his face. This was the painting that he had chose to protect, despite Luke’s plan to cut it up. It was a piece that he valued so much that he felt himself unworthy to take possession of it. He had never removed it from his mother's home. 

“It belongs to you.” He watched her face, hoping he hadn’t botched things. The best part of me belongs to you, Rey. 

She held the painting with shaking hands. “I'm just going to put it back up on your wall, where it belongs.”

Our wall. Our house. He dove at her, a large arm on either side of her. She was effectively trapped by him. Her chin gutted up and she met his eyes calmly.

“You don't scare easily.” He whispered. 

“Neither do you.” She countered. 

Everything suddenly seemed to slow down. Breath by breath. Rey let herself go, getting lost in Ben’s dark eyes. His lips curved into a half smile and she found that didn't want to look away. Warmth radiating from him like a fireplace. His breath. His pale neck, his adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously. The birds calling in the distance, the rumble of distant trucks. Her own heart racing. His lips twitched and then he let out a little sigh and his eyes shifted to her lips. His hands traced up her arms. He pressed her shoulders back to the wall and watched as her chest lifted with breath. She reached out hesitantly, her fingertips ran along the line of his neck to the stubble on his chin. 

“Rey.” He spoke her name reverently. “Rey, can I kiss you?”

“God, I hope so.”

His entire body pressed her into the wall as his nose touched hers. His breath hovered and everything was still. His lip brushed hers hesitantly and she felt a surge of warmth run from her cold feet all the way up to the ache in her chest. His lips found hers a second time and she felt like she was going to weep from the sweetness of the feeling. Open, wet, soft. 

And then she heard a key turning in the front door. “Am I interupting something?” Maz Kanata stood in the doorway holding a large cardboard box. 

“What the fuck?” Ben snapped.

“Language dear.” Maz scolded.

Chapter Text

There was not much that could be done to stop Maz Kanata as the petite woman pushed her way into the house. Rey dropped Ben’s hand to help her with the door.

“Hi Maz! Ben is in town for the evening.”

"Ah yes, your birthday, little Rey. How romantic."

"Not anymore," Ben muttered under his breath. 

"This is actually for you, Ben Solo." She pushed the cardboard box into his chest and headed for the couch where BB8 was perched. 

“What is it?” Rey watched as Ben paled. He robotically walked to the couch, clutching the box. 

"Oh my god." He pulled out a small, framed painting. Staring back at him was the likeness of Luke Skywalker as a young man. Elizabeth Peyton had painted Luke's portrait at the same time as Leia. They were meant to be a set with matching frames and color palettes. Ben couldn't remember ever seeing them hung together. 

Maz grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. BB8 settled in behind her and R2D2 bounded up, abandoning the sink. "I thought we could watch season two."

"Um, season two of what?" Maz had occasionally stopped over to watch Antiques Roashow with Rey. They had attempted to watch The Secret Life of Pi but Maz had fallen asleep within moments of the movie starting. Rey squinted at the older woman. Did Maz look tired? She didn't want to be rude to her neighbor but the buzzy feeling of Ben's lips was lingering and making her feel edgy and a little desperate. 

"Leia and I had finished season one of Bridgerton. I was thinking we could watch season two together." Maz glanced over at Ben. "Are you OK dear, you look like you've seen a ghost." 

"I haven't seen this painting for a long time."

"When things were getting bad, Leia gave me these things. It hurt too much to have them in the house. She missed your father and she missed her brother."

Ben looked into the bottom of the box. Han's Medal of Freedom shifted loose along side Leia's platimum wedding ring. The ring looked so forlorn and small sitting at the bottom of the cardboard box. "She loved your father so much. When he died, that solid part of her seemed to vanish into thin air." She set the ring and the medal on the coffee table. Oblivious to Ben's mounting stress, she adjusted her pillows. 

"Did she talk to you toward the end?" Ben asked softly, his eyes glued to the wedding ring. 

"I talked to her the night before she died. She was so excited because she'd been dreaming about her brother. In her dreams, Luke was visiting her. They were looking at art shows and going for walks. I think she was happy."

Rey's hand clutched Ben's arm instinctively. His hand slid into hers. 

Maz searched Netflix for Bridgerton. "Is today your actual birthday, Rey?

Rey nodded. "I usually don't celebrate it."

Maz squinted at Ben and Rey. "Leo and a Pieces, what an odd match. Do you know the last thing a fish says when it's being carried off by a lion? It says, 'wow, what a nice view'."

☾

Ben woke up at midnight to see characters in formal riding attire having some kind of fiesty argument about a foxhunt. Rey was curled up beside him on the couch, peacefully asleep. At some point, Maz must have hung the painting of Luke next to Leia's. It was staring down at him from the wall. His knowing eyes seemed to quiver with judgment.

Maz's eyes were open but she seemed to be asleep, snoring softly. Ben kissed Rey's forehead and she stirred slightly. Her eyes fluttered. "I'm sorry, this isn't very romantic."

He kissed her forehead again and pulled a blanket over her legs. "That shows what you know, fish girl. I'm having the time of my life."

☾

Hux had unexpectedly stopped by Rey’s studio while she was mixing ash with acrylic base. She used a large painting trowel to spread it onto the primed canvas. “I'm sorry, I have to work before this sets up.”

“Of course.”

Professor Hux did not make social visits so she knew there must be something wrong. She fought the urge to look up, quickly wiping the trowel on a rag before switching to a narrow palette knife. 

“I like the active surface,” he said simply.

“Thank you. I’m trying to stay out of the Bob Ross zone.”

Hux crossed his arms. “I’m sure you realize that you should be wearing a respirator or at least a mask.” 

“Uhhhh, yeah. Oops.”

“Try to remember next time.” Hux sat down in the only chair in her studio, watching her work. “I’m wondering if we could talk.”

Rey pressed her lips together. “You want me to stay away from Ben, don’t you?”

“No. Not at all. None of my business who my students date or not date. His contract does not start until July and I trust you will have graduated by then.” 

Rey’s eye twitched. Her phone alerted her of FaceTime from Ben. Hux’s darted to her screen, seeing the caller. 

“You can take the call,” He said evenly.

“My hands are sorta full.” She hedged.

“No matter, Ben will call back.”

“Yes.”

“He always does, not that it’s any of my business.” Hux smiled but his eyes remained steely. “Ben can take care of himself. I came because of something else. Someone else, actually.”

Rey looked up, confused.

“I have a message for RayAnna Lynn Palpatine.”

Rey wanted to run. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, smearing a streak of paint on her chin. “Please don’t use that name. I’m not that person anymore.”

“I respect that but nonetheless, the school of art office has been getting calls for RayAnna.”

Rey’s blood ran cold.

“The secretary didn’t know what to do because there is no student enrolled with that name so they contacted me.” Hux pulled a stack of yellow post-it notes from his pocket.

“I need to make sure RayAnna  - Miss Palpatine knows that her Grandfather is going to be released from prison.”

“What? Why?”

“Overcrowding.”

“It’s a first degree felony. He was sentenced to 11 years.”

Hux shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I know.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. He was supposed to be in prison for 2 more years.” Rey sat back, her hands flew over her eyes. The walls seemed to close in around her. “Oh my god. He knows where I work. He knows where I go to school. What do I do?”

Hux stood up. He started to put a hand on her shoulder and then stopped himself. He picked up her palette knife and trowel, cleaning them for her carefully 

“What am I going to do?” She stared at Hux, helplessly. 

“You could leave. Go see Ben in New York for awhile.” 

“But but my grandfather will be here when I come back. He’ll eventually find Ben’s house.”

“Ben can take care of himself.”

“Ben would kill him,” Rey argued.

Hux couldn’t disagree. 

“What am I going do?”

☾

Rey sat, paralyzed with fear watching the door of Leia's house. What would she do if she looked up and saw her Grandfather standing in the front porch? If he walked into her thesis class? If he walked into the library? She stared at the paintings of Ben, Luke and Leia that now hung together in a solid row. She had allowed herself to slip into the comfortable mindset of having a home. But this was not really her life. She didn’t belong here. 

Her phone dinged.

BenSolo: do you want to watch The Princess Bride together 

ReyBees: Maybe

BenSolo: Are you OK?

BenSolo: ?

It hit her like a bolt of lightning.

She checked her phone. After 3 phones and 7 years, the number was still in her phone. 

☾

Mirage was a stripper turned RN working as a home health nurse. She spent her days driving to patients’ homes to oversee care and ensure proper medication was being administered. She had been in the business for years and was the contact Rey had liked the most when she worked for her grandfather. When she was younger, Mirage made sure Rey carried a naloxone kit at all times and even showed her how to use it. Practical and even mannered, Mirage was in the drug trade for the long haul. 

When Rey arrived, Mirage was watching an Episode of Friends with a elderly male patient. Rey let herself into the apartment. It was small and clean, smelling strongly of lysol and apple-scented room spray. Mirage had always liked that smell. Rey used to love visiting Mirage with her Grandfather. There were always treats for her, treats to take home to Plutt. She seemed to have an endless supply of cookies or candy in her purse to share. Her Grandfather joked about Rey being an ugly pig but Mirage said she had a pretty face and gave her perfume samples from the mall. When Rey got her period for the first time, it was Mirage who gave her a giant bag of pads and tampons. 

There was no taboo subject for Mirage. She talked in front of her patients as though they were housepets, discussing their bowel movements and impending deaths without a second thought. Rey would squirm uncomfortably as her patients soiled themselves or groaned in pain. Mirage’s patients were always well cared for; clean clothes with blow dried hair and painted nails for the ladies. But they were always groaning in pain because Mirage halved their pain medications, selling it to Rey’s Grandfather. 

“Oh RayAnna, you have grown up to be such a pretty thing!" Mirage squealed. "Come let me look at you!"

Rey hugged her and felt her eyes burn from a wave of perfume and hairspray.

"RayAnna, I thought you got out."

Rey felt a wave of regret. She wished she could tell Mirage that she'd graduated from college. She wanted to tell her that she had cut ties with her family and moved on but this was not the time. "No one ever really leaves, do they?" 

Mirage nodded. "True. True."

"My Grandfather is getting out of prison. I want to get him a gift."

"You having a little party, RayAnna?"

"Yeah, me and Grandpa and Plutt." Rey lied smoothly.

Mirage checked her nails. "Is Plutt still with that big fella?"

"Yep. They’re up in Pittsburgh?" She watched Mirage's facing, trying to discern if the story seemed believable. She hoped that Mirage had not kept up with Plutt. 

Mirage grinned broadly and Rey noticed that she was missing her back teeth. "Wow. Go Plutt. And Sheev is getting out of prison. I imagine he'll be setting up shop again?" Rey watched Mirage’s face shift from a wide friendly smile into business mode. "Well whatcha got to offer, kiddo?"

Rey traded 4 of her squandered percosets, 2 xanax and $300 for a 400 mcg Fentanyl lozenge and a 200 mcg lollipop. "If ya can wait a week, I can get you more. Just you wait." As if on cue, Mirage's patient groaned in discomfort. "I’m looking forward to getting back in business with your Grandfather. He’s just such a sweetie pie."

"Yes." Rey lied. "So sweet."

"And Rey, I do appreciate you using your discretion. Not calling me out when you got arrested. Shows real character, not turning on your friends."

"Absolutely." Rey forced herself to smile.

Rey drove home with the windows open, trying to get the sickening smell of apple orchards off her clothes. 

☾

Mirage had been the first adult Rey had stood up to. She had been 13 and had ridden her bike to Mirage’s patient’s house do a pick up for her Grandfather. Rey had been talking about her junior high school classmates and Mirage had asked about fashion. Mirage loved country music and favored cowboy boots and denim skirts. Rey had made some joke about her classmates. Something about looking like a guy. The joke itself had been erased from her mind but she could remember watching Mirage in the reflection of the patient’s mirror. The older woman stood reached into Rey's purse and snatched out a $50.

Ray had spun around and pointed her finger at Mirage. "Never do that again."

"Oh honey, I was just playing around." She smiled at Rey’s hurt expression. "Ain’t no harm in trying, right?"

As Rey rode her bike home, she realized that there were people who didn’t care about right and wrong. Mirage didn’t feel bad about what she had done to Rey. There was no embarrassment or shame. It didn’t matter that she had crossed a line. It didn’t matter that Rey had trusted her. Some people only cared about what they might be able to get away with.

Chapter Text

What am I going do? 

Rey sat in the half light of the morning. Messages from Ben stacked up on her phone. It was 7:45 and her ‘boyfriend’ had sent 6 messages. He was going to do a photoshoot with Lando, he was thinking of her, he wanted to know if she had slept OK, he wondered if she could put his mother’s ring and Han’s medal in a safe place. 

She sent him a 🖤 and meant it. Despite his overwhelming nature, she was contented by him. His affection oozed into the open cracks, filling in the fractures she’d trained herself to ignore. She sent him a quick picture of the three Peyton paintings hanging in a row: Luke, Leia and Ben. There was something so grounding about seeing the line of them. She felt stronger and braver looking into their frozen eyes. 

She could be strong, couldn’t she? She thought about Leia coming to this house alone. Floating on grief, determined to die alone. She felt like she had found a kindred spirit in Leia. It wasn’t the same sensation of getting to know a person, it was the framework of determination. It was the savage bravery of knowing you had to move forward, one foot in front of the next. It was living with pain and not being able to go back.

☾

Ben batted his eyes at Lando. “You realize how incredibly stupid we look?” 

“I’m starting to realize that this makeup artist was a mistake.” Lando and Ben were being photographed in front of his Luc Tuymans painting. The second after mascara had been applied, Lando remembered that it made his eyes itch uncontrollably. 

“You look puffy.” Ben noted. “We need to get you some eyedrops.”

“You look - well, you actually look good,” Lando conceded. “A smoky eye suits you. The Yayoi Kusama painting barely came in time."

Ben shrugged. “Sorry if art shipping isn't like ordering from the Gap. They don’t have next day delivery.”

"It looks good with my suit” Lando stiffled a groan. His knees were killing him. They were seated crossed legged in front of the Kusama and the Tuyman painting that Lando had purchased without Ben. It irritated him to no end that he trusted Ben's taste in artwork more than his own. 

“This article will make it easier to unload this Tuymans piece, even though I think you’d like it if you found the right space for it.”

“Like the recycling bin?” Lando rubbed his eyes, trying not to pout.

“Like by the free weights?”

“Oh yeah, that would look good.” At that exact moment, the photographer snapped a picture of the two, their heads leaning toward one another. Ben was holding a box of tissues out to his uncle and Lando was smiling through tears, like a young man with the world at his feet.

☾

Rey Nima knew how to erase library fines. She took a guilty pleasure in continuing to use Poe’s Netflix account, she religiously wiped down watercolor palettes in the library until the paint colors looked clean and true, she made educated guesses about what Peli Motto meant when she told her class to ‘dump their feelings onto a living page’, she mixed ashes with acrylic paint to create memorials of beloved pets. She moved forward slowly. 

RayAnna Palpatine was a shadow of her past but never more than a side step away. 

While Rey followed by the rules of her peers, RayAnna existed in her orbit. She was practical, unlovable and unwavering in her belief that she was solely responsible for her own safety. She knew how to siphon gas, dismantle a catalytic converter, she shoplifted and survived on scraps. She knew enough about the drug trade to work within the system. And she knew that she didn’t want to be part of that life anymore.

Rey Niima was graduating with two masters degrees and falling in love with Ben Solo. RayAnna had a criminal record and enough fentynal to kill two grown men.

Rey loved music and contemporary art. ReyAnna was writing out index cards with instructions for the installation of her art show in case she didn’t make it back. 

Rey wrote out passwords and procedures for the library software in case Rose had to take over for her. Then she wrote a note to Ben that she hoped he would never have to read.

☾

She found Hux in his office. Positioning herself so she didn’t have to look at his framed pictures, she sat parallel to the door. “Professor, have you ever seen The Princess Bride?”

Hux was not surprised to see Rey but he was concerned by the dark circles underneath her eyes and the way her jittery hands moved as though she was crocheting an unseen object. He considered calling Ben on the spot but reminded himself that he had sworn not to interfere in his student’s personal lives. “Of course, I’ve seen The Princess Bride many times, it’s a classic.” 

“There’s a scene where The Man in Black, Wesley, defeats Vincini in a battle of wits.”

“Yes.” Hux had never heard Rey’s voice sound so eerily calm. She was typically cheerful, chipper.

“The man in Black poisoned wine and Vincini had to guess which cup to drink from -”

“But both cups were poisoned. Tasteless, odorless, colorless.” Hux interrupted. “But it didn’t matter because The Man in Black had built up an immunity to iocane powder.” 

Rey looked like she was close to tears. “What if The Man in Black didn’t have access to iocane powder? His immunity would go away, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me but I’m guessing that we shouldn’t be having this conversation.” Hux swallowed hard.

And like door closing, Rey’s demeanor seemed to shift. “We’re just talking about a movie, professor.”

Hux nodded and set the post-it notes for RayAnna beside her. “How can I help you? What do you need? Money?” He opened his wallet.

She made a strange sound, somewhere between a shudder and a ragged exhale of breath. “I need to borrow a car overnight.” 

Hux stared at her for a moment, instinct told him that he should not ask any questions since he didn’t want to hear the answers to. “OK, let me get you the keys.”

“I don’t need them until tomorrow. I still need to run a few errands.”

☾

They had specialized in lozenges. Their customers called them lollipops but they were shaped like tiny teddy bears. The process was to use a double boiler, crush Jolly Ranchers, melt them down, cut them with Fentynal or ecstasy, and pour them into gummy bear molds from the craft store. For reasons unknown, her Grandfather insisted they be wrapped back up in the Jolly Rancher wrappers. At first, Rey questioned why they didn’t use rectangle molds like the original candy. As she got older, she was thankful for the discrepancy. A parent would be able to spot the difference. Even a child would instinctively know there was something wrong. 

At trial, the prosecution blew up big pictures of the colorful candy bears. Since they had been arrested so close to a school, the lawyers insinuated that they were trying to appeal to children. It didn’t help that it was one of the many elementary schools that Rey had attended as a child. She wasn’t sure why that detail seemed so dire to the judge but she watched as his expression changed. 

They usually made 200 mcg lozenges, even then it was on the loose end of 200. Rey had enough Fentynal to make 8 little bears but this was a special occasion so there were only two. A matched set; one red, one blue.

Her phone dinged

BenSolo: Are you OK?

BenSolo: I miss your face 

ReyBees: I miss you too. So much.

She smiled at the pictures from Ben’s photoshoot with Lando. He looked large and handsome; a figure cut from the pages of a fairy tale.

☾

Rey's next stop was the Food Bank. She felt strange arriving in Hux’s navy blue Acura. It was the nicest car in the lot. The kind, gentle souls working there didn’t ask her any questions. They were ready to offer her a prepacked box of food staples, enough food for 3 days. They had trial size deodorant, shampoo, lice treatments, narcon kits and condoms.

She took one of everything they had to offer. She smiled and armed herself to engage in a battle of the wits.

☾

Rey dropped Hux off at his son’s elementary school. 

He opened the car door but didn’t unbuckle. “I’d offer to stay with you but I have to meet my son at practice.”

Rey smiled but her eyes were sad. “I can’t invite you to come with me but I appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry you’re dealing with whatever this is.”

Rey could tell that Hux was lingering. It was her job to reassure him, to get him to leave. “What sport?”

“Excuse me?”

Rey pointed at the elementary school gym where a chair was propping open the door to the gym. “What sport does your son play?”

“Basketball. He’s absolutely terrible.”

She reached over and clicked to unbuckle his seatbelt for him. “I bet you’re a good dad, Professor.”

“No, not really.”

She started the car. “Trust me. Good parents know their shortcomings and keep going.”

Hux studied her determined profile. “Be safe, Rey.”

☾

RayAnna Palpatine waited in the parking lot of the Illium Men’s Correctional Facility. The parking lot was under construction with orange barrels marking nothing and cars parked haphazardly. She had never visited her grandfather and avoided driving anywhere near the prison. It was a concrete, minimalist structure. If there weren’t guard towers and barbed wire, it would pass for a Holiday Inn. She had expected there to be checkpoints or some sort of procedure for parking but she pulled Hux’s Acura MDX right next to the fence. 

The clouds were clearing and the sun was starting to shine through the lonely day. She wished her phone could capture the color of the sky. It was vivid like a swimming pool. It would never be deep enough to stray into the range of Yves Klein blue but it was still pretty. 

Her heart raced and she realized that she was holding the steering wheel with a white knuckled death grip. A double door opened and two large guards walked out with Sheev Palpatine.

He was almost exactly the same as she remembered him. His hair was thinner, whiter. He was thinner. She had expected him to be in denim, like in the movies but he was wearing khaki pants, a grey blazer and a polo shirt. If he stepped onto a city sidewalk, no one would ever guess he had just stepped out of a 9 year prison sentence. 

The two guards looked like bouncers at a nightclub or retired athletes. The older of the two looked her over and turned to Sheev. “Is this your granddaughter?”

He nodded and the guard gestured for her to approach. She handed over her driver’s license. He didn’t seem to notice that it had expired 7 years earlier. 

“You’ve got a place for your Grandpa to stay?” 

She nodded and they stepped away.

Her Grandfather walked toward her slowly. “Hello Pig. I was wondering how long it would take for your skinny ass to come pick me up.”

“Sorry you had to wait,” she answered quietly, not looking him in the eye.

He looked around the parking lot. “Where’s Plutt?” 

“He’s meeting us at the restaurant.”

“Useless hog.”

Rey pursed her lips. “Plutt isn’t useless.”

Rey didn’t see her Grandfather arm in time. His hand caught the side of her head. Her vision turned red for a split second and her ears rang. She didn’t realize she’d hit the ground until she felt gravel in her mouth. Her arms reached instinctively. His foot slammed into the back of her neck. Gravel cut into her face and she struggled to spit out the rocks in her mouth. 

One of guards yelled out, “Y’all should be getting on your way. Don’t be lingering here.”

Rey looked up at her Grandfather. The old man stared down at her. His soft wrinkled face held no compassion, just curiosity. He simply stared at her, watching as she struggled to roll on her side. She heard gravel crunch as her Grandfather stepped back. Pain shot through her chest as he delivered a sharp kick to her ribs. He used the middle of his sneakered foot to push her face further down. She could feel the sharp metallic taste of blood in her mouth, the sickening scrape of rocks against her teeth. “Are you ready to grovel, you stupid little bitch?”

She coughed and tried to speak but nothing came out. Through tears, she watched the guards open the doors and step back into the fluorescent lights of the prison. Rey willed her arms to move and reached into her coat pocket. 

“I- I brought you a present.” She held up the set of fentynal bears.

This stopped Sheev. His features morphed into a pleasant smile. “Didn’t see much of this in prison.” 

“Let’s celebrate. I remembered that blue and red were your favorite colors.” Rey managed to croak out. 

He held the baggy up to the light. “What do we have here?”

“300’s”. 

Well this is unexpected. What a good little piggy you’ve grown up to be. Got your own car?”  He rubbed his hands together. “One for me and one for you.” He handed her the blue bear. 

“You want the red?” She asked too quickly.

“Unless there’s something wrong with the red one. Maybe I’ll switch?”

“You choose. It’s your celebration after all.” He grabbed the blue bear shaped candy and popped it in his mouth. He handed her the red bear and watched as she put it on her tongue. The game had begun.

☾

They drove past a run down park at the end of the street, near a hillside park. Rey caught sight of her face in the window reflection. Blood ran in a line down from her temple but she wouldn't not wipe it away. It needed to be there. 

“S’little cold.” Sheev turned on the heat. “Aren’t we going to the restaurant?”

Rey had taken the scenic route. She needed to bide her time. Everything needed to happen in the correct order. She watched the minutes ticking past. 

“We’ll be there in a minute. Do you remember this park? You used to make me and Plutt run laps here. We'd run and you'd throw your empty beer cans at us.” She pulled a six pack of Miller Lite from her backpack. She held it a can out to him. “The Champagne of Beers?”

“You remembered.” his voice slurred.

“Of course.” Rey could see the restaurant parking lot ahead. Her vision was starting to blur. Just a little further.  

She opened a can for him as she parked. “Here, have a drink before we go in.”

“Damn piggy. This is a party. We’re gonna go right back to the way things were.” He lifted up the can and took a long drink.  

“Yes,” Rey reached into her pocket for her lifeline. “We’re going right back to how things were.”

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken much convincing to get Ben to come to Illium. “I think Rey might need you.” The words sounded hollow and Hux felt like he was trying to scream underwater. He wasn’t sure what Rey’s situation was but he was sure it wasn’t good. Phasma had convinced him to tell Ben that Rey was struggling with her thesis show and that she needed him. Needed him was all it took and Ben had an overnight bag packed. 

☾

Sheev Palpatine was finishing his Miller Lite when the fentanyl lozenge started to kick in. 

Even after years of being instructed by Mirage on the correct use of Narcan in its many forms, Rey had fumbled using it on herself. She took a deep breath inhaling the nasal spray with a silent prayer. She leaned on the back bumper of Hux’s Acura and wondered if Narcan was supposed to taste like detergent. She was glad she’d opened the package up in advance, her hands had been shaking like a leaf. 

Across the stripmall parking lot, she had locked eyes with a mother who was unbuckling a small child from a carseat. The woman looked scared and Rey remembered that she was bleeding. Her mouth felt dry as she went back to the driver’s seat. 

“I thought we were going in the restaurant to meet Plutt?” Her Grandfather’s voice slurred softly. 

“Go ahead and finish your beer. There’s no rush; we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“This is good shit.” The Jolly Rancher wrapper slipped through his hands. He turned on the radio but didn’t adjust the barely audible volume. 

Rey picked up the wrappers and patted him on the arm. “I hope our table’s ready. We’ll go in a minute.”

“I’m gonna kick Plutt’s ass back to next Tuesday. Piece of shit never visited me in prison. Worthless fucking family.”

That was the last thing Rey heard him say. She tucked the candy wrappers into her pocket and watched her Grandfather’s eyelids grow heavy. He slumped against the car window. His breathing was slowing down, shuddering and shifting. 

Sheev Palpative died in a parking lot. As much as Rey wanted to watch him suffer, she was glad he had died like her parents. He had died by his own hand, just another junkie overdosing on a sunny day.

Rey watched as the mother across the parking lot strapped her child into a large stroller. It was a complicated design that looked like it could withstand an apocalypse. 

☾

She drove back to the deserted park. It wasn’t far from her Grandfather’s old house. On good days, she and Plutt had bounded through yards to play there on their own. They would hang on the monkey bars or play ice cream shop. Despite their age difference, Plutt would patiently scoop up a pile of mulch and put it on the steps of the jungle gym. Rey would pretend to be a dissatisfied customer and demand that he remake her banana split with whipped cream and cherries. 

On bad days, Sheev would march them there with his small cooler. He would sit on top of the picnic table and direct that his grandchildren run the perimeter of the park. Dirty little pigs need exercise. Fresh air and exercise. Worthless hogs, worthless swine. 

Rey checked to make sure there were no witnesses to see her open the car door. She unbuckled her Grandfather and let gravity do the rest. He fell heavily onto the sidewalk. The empty bottle of Miller Lite rolled harmlessly away from him. 

Rey grabbed the bottle and put it back in the car for recycling. She was tempted to stare at her Grandfather’s body but it was time to go. He had stopped breathing.

☾

She drove to the neighborhood urgent care clinic. Ben had sent her dozens of texts. Hux had sent one.

AHux: Are you safe?

ReyBees: Yes 

Rey pinned her location before she staggered into the lobby.

☾

Phasma was on speaker phone with Ben while they drove from the airport. For the millionth time, Hux took a moment to remind himself how magnificent his wife was. Sensing Ben’s anxiety, Phasma was steering their conversation to a topic so complex that even Ben could be distracted: engagement rings.

Phasma’s airy voice was keeping Hux’s anxiety in check. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t tell Ben anything until they got to Urgent Care. He knew his friend well enough to know that Ben would have an anxiety attack and then they’d both be useless. 

Ben was nodded along as Phasma ticked off the various ring options. “All things considered, I think that a family ring is really the best answer. Leia had the most beautiful oval cut light blue ceylon sapphire.” 

Ben was looking up estate jewelry on his phone. “But won’t that seem like I’m cheap?”

Phasma’s voice was steady and cheerful. “That’s the beauty of it. She’ll think it’s low key because it’s old. Plus it’s sentimental.”

“Maybe.” Ben continued scrolling through rings.

“She probably won’t even realize it’s so valuable because it looks like aquamarine." Phasma reasoned.

"Her birthstone is aquamarine." 

"See, she won’t think it’s ostentatious at all. And if you’re concerned about it not being a diamond, you could consider buying her an eternity band for your anniversary. Huxy gave me a half eternity for our 5th anniversary.”

“Am I in trouble?” Hux interjected, hoping his voice sounded normal. 

“Full eternity is hard to maintain.” Phasma explained. 

Ben looked up, suddenly aware of his surroundings. “Where are we? Why aren’t we going to Rey’s studio?”

“Um.”

“Why are we in this shitty neighborhood?”

☾

Hux was surprised that Ben had remained relatively calm as he spoke to the elderly receptionist and security guard at the Urgent Care. 

He leaned on the counter, growing increasingly agitated. “I said, I need to see her.” 

“And I asked you if you're family?”

“I’m her fiance.” 

The receptionist shrugged. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger.” 

“I’m proposing in 6 months, right?” Ben looked to Hux for validation. 

“That’s good. 6 months is a solid timeline.” Hux patted him on the back. 

“I have a ring and everything.” 

“Honey, buying a ring doesn’t make you family. If she hasn’t said yes then you aren’t technically engaged.” 

Ben’s face turned solemn. “Listen to me.” He pointed a finger at the older woman. “I’m going to fucking destroy this lobby if you don’t let me see her.”

Hux huffed a sigh and stepped in. “What my large friend is trying to convey is that he is desperately in love with this woman and wants to see Miss Niima.”

A security guard stationed by the door stepped closer, anticipating a confrontation. He looked Ben and Hux over from head to toe, frowning at their matching Gucci loafers. “Are you two sure you have the right young woman?” 

Hux stepped between Ben and the guard. “Brown hair, mid-twenties, bright smile. Freckles?”

“Dazed expression, limping?” The guard challenged. “She walked in here, covered with blood. No coat.”

“It is a mild day today, it’s hardly even jacket weather.” Hux said, trying for humor but missing by a beat.

“Sir, she’d given herself Narcon. She was an addict.”

Ben’s eye twitched and he punched the wall beside the reception desk.

Hux stared, open mouthed, at the crack in the wall. “We’ll pay for that,” he said quickly.

The receptionist sighed. “It’s OK, it happens all the time.” 

☾

Rey had been checked out and sent home with a bandaged face and several sample sized tubes of antibacterial cream. The RN who had checked her over had also given her information on several drug treatment programs and a list with bullet points for escaping an abusive relationship. Still feeling disoriented, she took an Uber to Leia’s house. 

Her forehead throbbed as she turned her head too quickly. There were lights on at the house. 

Ben ran out, taking two steps at a time, sweeping her up in his arms. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”  He repeated, kissing her hair. He checked her injuries. “What happened?”

“Bike accident.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“But your bike is here.” 

“Can we go inside?” Rey whispered. “I need to make a few phone calls.”

☾

Hux texted Phasma to let her know that Rey was all right. She held perfectly still while Ben checked her injuries. 

“Two stitches, no broken bones, no concussion.” She stated robotically. 

“What can I do?” Ben whispered.

“Can you please get me some ice water?”

As soon as he left the room, she turned to Hux. “I think my grandfather is dead.”

Hux studied her face. “You think or you know?”

“I know.”

“Where is he?”

“It’s a little park. In the Jakku neighborhood. I don’t think it has a name.”

“I think you should call the police in 24 hours,” Hux said quietly. “Report him missing. That would look convincing.”

“I left your car two blocks from the Urgent Care. I wasn’t sure if I could make it home.” She handed him the car keys. “Thank you.”

Hux handed Rey the note she had left for Ben. He’d found it on the kitchen counter. He had only read the first line: If you’re reading this, it means that I have been trapped by my past . “You won’t be needing this, will you?”

“No.” Rey tucked it in the pocket of her jeans. 

“Good.”

☾

When all was said and done, Rey’s first night sleeping in the same bed as Ben Solo was romantic, even though they barely touched. Her face was swollen and she had pillows propped up against her sore ribs.

She didn't have the energy to shower but changed into a pair of pajamas Ben recognized as his mother's. Seeing Rey in the familiar silk pajamas was simultaneously sexy and disturbing.

She had given him an outline of events. The barest of details. The official version of events: her grandfather had gotten out of prison early, they had gotten into an altercation in the prison parking lot, she had dropped him off in their old neighborhood and went to Urgent Care. She did not mention narcon nor did he ask. Ben knew what guilt looked like, he knew the roles it could play. 

"I'm here now." He whispered to her as she slept. 

☾

He had stayed. 

Ben didn’t push her for details, as she went to school and went to work. It was as though nothing had changed. He understood that she wanted to handle things on her own. But he sure as hell wasn’t about to let her out of his orbit. He fly to New York Monday morning and was back on Wednesday evening to pick her up from the library. 

He gave her space emotionally and physically. His energy went into working through the list of manageable and unmanageable things. 

Buy a car ✓

Buy Rey a car

Refinish the floors at The Resistance Gallery ✓

Complete the sale of Luke’s Lisa Yuskavage painting ✓

Set termination dates on licensing agreements for Luke’s artwork ✓

Work with Jannah on selling the Hoboken property ✓

Convince Elizabeth Peyton to paint a portrait of Lando’s fish

Visit artist studios without shouting at anyone

Complete inventory of Leia’s art collection at the Illium warehouse

Complete inventory of Luke’s art collection in his portion of Leia’s warehouse

☾

"It was pretty clear what she was trying to accomplish." Ben stated simply, without emotion.

He had taken Hux to the art restoration studio with him to make the decision about restoring Luke's painting. Moving ahead with piecing together the painting was too big a choice for him to make alone. When Rey had explained the situation to him, a hundred thoughts had ricocheted through his mind. He considered consulting with Lando and talked himself out of it. He'd gone through a conversation with David Zwirner in his mind but couldn't see any version of it going well.

He wished he could talk to Luke. He had stood at the sink of Leia's kitchen, trying to conjure up an imaginary conversation with Luke but it hadn't helped. In the end, it was Hux's advice he sought out. 

He wished he could talk to his Mother about her motivations. The art restoration studio said that she had been working on this project for years, trying to recover all 12 pieces. His inventory list of Luke's warehouse indicated that Luke had quietly held onto a piece in his private collection. A collection that he had expressly left to Ben, not Leia. 

Hux surveyed the pieces of Luke’s painting. Leia had acquired 10 of the 12 pieces. She had tried for years to find the final sections but they had not been sold. Ben had given one piece to Hux and on the night the show closed. He had sent the final piece to Luke without a note. 

He and Hux stared at the twelve pieces of the iconic painting on the table of the restoration studio. 

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Hux ran his hands through his hair. "There's no answer here. No matter what you do, the painting will never be the same."

Ben looked at the tools around him. Tiny paint brushes, bottles of glue, microscopes. "They can put it back together."

"I mean that the painting is your piece now." Hux gestured to the squares. "You cut it apart and made it your artwork. If you put it back together, it remains yours. Everything is completely yours moving forward; there is no going back. You'll always be Luke's villian."

"Then, let's put it back together again. These pieces have been in separate boxes long enough. Let's change everything. I want a different life; I don't want to be the asshole who cut everything apart."

Hux smiled. "Be the asshole who puts everything back together."

☾

Rey felt like there were many versions of Ben. Being under the same roof allowed her to see the many sides of him. Tired Ben who was fussy and bought too many groceries that weren't on the list. Shy Ben who didn't want her to know how much money he'd spent on the Jeep parked outside. Confident Ben who paced while he talked in broken Serbian to arrange for his Uncle Chewie to fly with him to New York. She liked the Ben who picked her up at the library best. Determined, present, doting.

It had taken him four days to kiss her again. They had gotten out of the car when he took her hand as they walked up to the house. He liked to call it their house even though neither of them felt like they deserved to be there. Holding hands with Ben felt electrifying. She checked the mailbox and he gently pulled her into his arms. Just like that. On the front porch. The shyest look crossed his face like a cloud.  

"I’m scared that if I try to kiss you, Maz will appear." Ben scanned the shadows for the elderly woman. She could be anywhere. 

Rey pulled him inside the house. "That’s what deadbolts are for."

"Really?"  

She grinned. "I’m not going to make the same mistake twice." 

"I know it’s too soon to say I love you."

"It’s probably too soon for a lot of things?" She undid the top button of his shirt.

"I have an app that’s supposed to keep me in a schedule."

She continued to unbutton his shirt. "What did you just say?"

Ben cleared his throat. “It's an app that tells me how to be a normal boyfriend. When to send flower and love notes."

"You’ve never sent me flowers."

"I didn’t think you’d like that." 

Rey smiled. "See, you don’t need an app."

"I love you. I know it might sound crazy but since the first night here, I've been in love with you."

She squinted at him, trying to understand the man before her. "You didn’t even know me then." 

"I did say it was crazy."

"I’m crazy about you too."

He unbuttoned her shirt carefully, smiling at his own clumsy hands. And then he just smiled. A crooked boyish smile. "You’re so beautiful." He finally spoke in his low voice. His fingertips lightly rested in her waist. His hands danced over the large bruise on her hip and then traced along her ribs.

"Can I take you to bed now?" His voice was husky and low.

And then she was being carried. Her first impulse was to elbow him in the face but then she decided that it was sort of nice. As long as he didn't drop her.

☾

No experience in her entire life had prepared her for sex with Ben Solo. Being held in his arms made her feel like she was waking up. Some icy shell had been lifted and she felt warm and alive. In bed, she found even more sides of Ben Solo. He was present and intuitive, strong and gentle, quiet and very, very loud. When everything came crashing down, he fell asleep beside her. His hand touching hers underneath the pillow, his toes hanging off the end of the bed. Like he was meant to be there all along.

Chapter Text

“For the last time, you’re not wearing those”

Rey studied herself in the mirror. Freshly showered, she was wearing a sparkly white tunic of Leia’s as a dress. She had hoped to wear a pair of Rose’s stilettos. She knew it looked fantastic and, by the hour they’d just spent in bed, she was fairly confident that Ben thought so too. But from the practical side, her ribs were still sore from being repeatedly kicked and, more importantly, she still needed to hang her work on the walls of the gallery. 

Her thesis show opened in 2 hours. 

The previous night, she had worked with Ben, Rose and Finn to paint the areas behind each painting a sickly neon green. She’d tested it out the lighting and was pleased by the nauseating glow it cast around each of her paintings. 

“Fine, fine, fine. Are you sure you’re OK to drop me off at the gallery?” Rey watched as Ben fastened his vintage NASA cufflinks with practiced ease. 

“Yes. I’m going to pick up Hux so we can ride together. I don’t want my presence to be a distraction. Are you sure you won’t let me bring food?” He looked at her with an innocent expression. It didn’t matter what she said, he was bringing wine and a fruit tray. He’d even included non-dairy cheese to keep Hux busy. 

“There’s an architecture conference so there will be stuff out in the hallway.” Rey pulled on black tights and combat boots. “Are you happy now?”

“I’m not disabled by arousal. He watched as she turned around slowly. “Oh wait, never mind. I’m completely aroused. Get back over here.” He gently swept her into his arms.

☾

Ben found Hux holed up in the basement playing Beautiful Katamari. “What in the actual fuck?” 

He and Ben were wearing the exact same jade green Saint Laurent suit. Hux rolled his eyes and handed Ben the Xbox controller. “I’ll change. Just try not to lose.” He shot Ben a dismissive look. “And the pants are supposed to be cuffed for god’s sake.”

“Well, your sleeves are too short.” Ben retorted.

“My jacket is perfectly tailored but I’m still going to change so I don’t make you look bad.”

Ben laughed as he followed Hux up the steps. 

“Are you going to watch me change?” Hux huffed.

“I want to see your new Thom Browne jacket with the striped sleeve. I was thinking about getting it.”

“I got the grey. The black looked too stark -“

Phasma burst out laughing at the pair’s identical green suits. “You two look like back up dancers!”

Hux wrapped his arms around her waist, trapping her. “I have a very hard time concentrating when you wear that.”

Phasma looked down at her black and white kimono. “I feel shamefully sloppy.”

“You’re an absolute goddess.” His voice dropped to whisper in her ear. “Are you aware of how ravishing you are?”

Ben turned to Hux alarmed. “Oh my god, you’re bringing Rey flowers?!”

Hux tossed the bouquet to him. “No, dipshit. You are. Phasma picked them out.”

Ben studied the flowers thoughtfully. “Do you really think she’ll like white roses?”

Phasma shrugged. “She told me she’s wearing a white dress.”

“It’s barely a dress.” Ben countered. He loved that Phasma and Rey were becoming friends. Phasma had helped Rey navigate the process of identifying her Grandfather’s body and arranging his cremation. 

“Will you bring me tea?” Hux kissed her between the eyes.

“No.”

“Please?”

Phasma narrowed her eyes at him. 

Ben followed Hux to his room where he sat on a fancy exercise bike. He watched  his friend dig into his son’s Stranger Things backpack.

“What are you eating, Huxy?”

“Nothing.”

“I can see you chewing.”

“If you must know, the boys had McDonalds and I may have ordered extra fries.”

“You’re eating cold french fries?” Ben grimaced.

“It’s not like I fed them lead paint sandwiches. Cold french fries are utterly divine.”

“Blech.” Ben sniffed. “I can smell it on your skin.” 

“You can? Oh god, Phasma is going to freak out. Do I have time to shower?”

“No.”

He smelled his armpits while Ben tried on his Thom Browne blazer. 

Ben turned to the side, trying to look past the size discrepancy. “Huxy, why don’t you tell her the truth?” Ben sat down next to Hux as he continued to shovel fries into his mouth. “Phas worries so much about your health. If she knew -“

“Nope.” Hux interrupted. “No can do.”

“But if she knew how your Dad really died, she wouldn’t always be worried about you having a heart attack when you’re 40.” 

Hux pulled in a grey Armani blazer. “Listen, Attiticus has a picture of my dad in his room, the boys are proud when they see their grandfather’s name on the donor wall at the art museum. They think he’s a good guy. I’m not taking that away from them.”

“So instead, you’re on a low carb diet and hiding french fries in your coat pockets? How long are you going to let this go on? You’re starving.”

“I’d rather be on this god damn diet for the rest of my life than see Phasma worry that I’m going to turn out like my dad with all those women. Jesus, I’d rather starve.”

“OK.” Ben let Hux finish changing into his suit in peace. He walked down the steps to find Phasma hovering around the bottom step.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” She whispered. “Thank you. I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too, Phas.”

☾

Ben wanted his arrival at Rey’s art show to be low key. He would start working at the school in a month and he didn’t want anyone to assume that he’d helped with her work. He was excited to see people milling around the gallery.

He had cold-called Rey’s cousin Plutt and her library mentor, Mr. Jinn, but neither of them returned his calls. He hoped they would at least listen to his message and know that Rey was graduating, that she was doing well. 

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Rey. His perfectly powerful girlfriend. She was surrounded by her close friends, chatting happily. Maz had come with friends from the Illium Zoo board who were oohing and ahhing over each work. One of her favorite students from the library, Qira, had come with her mother. Ben watched as Rey led them through the show, explaining each painting. Qira was thinking about applying to Illium University. Ben watched Rey’s animated expression she as talked about college to Qira’s mother.

☾

The morning after her art opening was a happy blur. Rey had a checklist of her own which started with answering a summons from Hux.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“I wanted to talk to you about graduation.”

“Did I miss something?”

Hux closed the office door. “Would you like a Coke? Ginger Ale? Sparkling water?”

“Sure. Ginger Ale, please.”

She accepted the drink and sat back in the office chair. She hadn’t spent much time in Hux’s office lately. There were updated school pictures of his sons. A picture of his wife smiling with dog. Hux slid a short stack of paperwork across his desk. He wasn’t looking at her; that was a bad sign. 

Her heart started to race. She must have forgotten to fill out some graduation paperwork.

“There’s a program here at Illium for Student Loan forgiveness for criminal offenders.”

Rey blanched when she saw her name written on the top line. Her old name. 

“I’ll be just fine paying back my loans.”

“I don’t doubt that. But this is a new program.” He slid the paperwork further. “It’s for people like you.”

”People like me?” Rey could feel her face flush with anger.

“People who have excelled despite having a criminal record. You’re a statistical anomaly.”

“I don’t want my friends to know about my past. I don’t want to receive my diploma and have everyone say ‘oh, you did soooo well for being a poor orphan drug dealing sack of shit’.”

“Of course not. And I would never dream of telling you what to do with your life or how to conduct yourself. We aren’t friends.” His voice was sharp.

Rey flinched. 

“I’m your instructor and your academic advisor. I don’t pry into my student’s affairs.” Hux finally met her eyes. “But when you graduate next week, that will change and I think we will be friends. Ben Solo is like a brother to me.”

Rey pressed her lips together. She stared at the name Palpatine. “I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t want to use that name.”

Hux nodded. He looked out the window as Rey finished her ginger ale. “3%”

“Excuse me?”

“Less than 3% of students with criminal records complete degrees of any kind.” His voice broke. “And you are about to graduate with 2 masters degrees. With honors.” 

“Because you gave me a chance, Professor Hux.”

“I admitted you on probation and I’ve never regretted it. The Loan Forgiveness program was created with a student like you in mind and if you don’t claim it, it’s not like somebody else is going to. The money and the hope will go away with it. There isn’t anyone else to give this to. You’re it. You’re the hope for the future, for change. It’s up to you to decide if you want to take it or not.” 

“What do I need to do?”

“You need to sign the name RayAnna Palpatine one last time.”

☾

Rey had thought she would feel sad moving out of the painting studio at Illium. She thought it would feel like a closing a door but Ben was coming to teach at Illium so the connection felt like it was a door being held ajar.

As she taped up boxes, she heard Ben and Peli Motto talking about an idea Ben was developing for a graphic novel based on his Uncle Lando’s life. Peli was showing Ben her tattoo of a coy fish on her stomach, pulling her shirt off without hesitation. She peeked at them, giggling at Ben’s red face as he was treated to seeing Peli’s naked torso. The pair eventually decided that the fish tattoo was a sign that they should collaborate.

The last boxes were packed and Ben was about to bring his Jeep around to the studio doors. He pointed out a white box in the corner of her studio. He recognized it as the type of box cremation ashes came in. 

“Are you forgetting those?”

“No, they’re my grandfather.” 

“Do you want to put them in with the other leftover ashes. The jar is in your milk crate.”

“No.” Rey pitched the box in with the trash left over from her gallery show. “I won’t be making anything out of him.”

“Are you ok?”

She dumped the box in the trash and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Better than OK. My gorgeous boyfriend is giving me a ride to work tonight-“

“And a ride home.” Ben interrupted. 

She looked at the sky, studying the range of blue. As the seasons shifted, she was spending more time painting outside. She had finished several small commissions and was waiting to start an ash painting for the Chicago Aquarium. An otter had died and she was awaiting its remains. 

Ben followed her gaze, the sky wasn’t a bright Klein blue today. Maybe it would never be. Maybe things would never be perfect but he had found Rey. He had Hux and the remains of both Luke and Leia’s legacies to keep him busy. He was all right for now. He felt safe and tethered to earth. 

Rey felt him staring at her. He was always staring but it didn’t bother her anymore. She took his large hand in hers. Despite his obsessive tendencies, she knew that he was deeply grounded. All she had to do was let herself love him, allow herself to move forward. She wasn’t an abandoned child or a discarded girlfriend. She wasn’t disposable, not to Ben.

Chapter Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Ben Solo inhaled slowly. He counted to 5 and exhaled through his mouth. He locked eyes with his Uncle Lando. “I said, get this fucking thing out of my sight!” It was 10 am on his wedding day and he was already screaming. 

Lando tried to reach for one of the miniature cheesecakes artfully arranged on Ben’s kitchen table but Chewie’s long arm blocked him. 

“Your Cholesterol,” the tall Czech pilot warned.

“Back off, man. I already took Lactaid.” Lando faked right and snagged a blackberry cheesecake. He swooned as he swallowed the first bite, grabbing the edge of Ben's Travertine table. “You haven’t even looked at your present, son. You might actually like it.” Lando straightened the painting he’d propped up on an Eames chair. One corner of the wrapping had been pealed back to reveal abstract grey shapes.

“Oh for the love of god, I know exactly what it is.” Ben put his hands on his hips, exasperated. 

“You’re getting married so I wanted our gift to be as monumental as this occasion.” Lando sounded gallant but slightly over rehearsed.

“Why couldn’t you just give me the Christopher Oh painting like I asked you to?” Ben asked.

“The what-what?” Lando’s eye twitched as he tried to place the name. 

“The green painting over the mantle at your lake house?” Ben brought up a picture on his phone and Lando pulled out his bifocals to study it. “My god, are you 200 years old all of a sudden?” 

“That thing was $3,000; it’s hardly a gift.” Lando sputtered.

“OK,” Ben tried again. “What about the Mapplethorpe portrait of my parents? That would have been an appropriate, totally normal gift.” 

“I didn’t know that thing was a Mapplethorpe.” Lando tapped his lip in confusion. “Well, I should really get that thing insured.”

“I’m going to euthanize you.” Ben growled.

“Mercy killing.” Chewie picked BB8 off the floor, holding the cat like a baby.

Ben pointed at the wrapped artwork. “You swore — you swore to my mother and the FBI that you didn’t steal this.”

“CIA.” Chewie corrected him as he nuzzled the cat’s orange fur. “FBI is domestic matters.” 

“I didn’t steal anything.” Lando held up his middle finger and then crossed it slowly. 

Chewie pealed back a layer of bubble wrap to reveal a corner of Pablo Picasso’s Le Pigeon Aux Petits Pois. “Happy Wedding.” His voice held a singsong quality. “Happy, happy, happy wedding day from both of us.”

“I need both of you to leave.”

“You need a haircut.” Chewie spoke in his thick accent as he ruffled Ben’s hair.

“Because you’re old men, I’ll give you three minutes to get this fucking thing out of here.” Ben said in a low voice.

“You’ve got to be joking, right?” Chewie mumbled. “Nevděčný chlapec.”

“You’re clearly insane because you’re smiling like this entire goddamn situation is totally normal. Get this stolen Picasso out of my fucking house. We’ve got decent people coming to this wedding.”

Lando leaned back in his chair. “Where exactly should I put it?

Ben rolled his eyes. “Put it back in the trunk of your car.”

“Frunk.” Lando corrected him cheerfully.

“Excuse me?” Ben said.

“It’s called a frunk; we rented a Tesla.” Distracted, Lando turned to Chewie. “Am I crazy for wanting to buy one now?”

“I don’t want to give Elon Musk one single fucking cent.” Chewie’s accent was markedly less pronounced when he was cursing.

Lando nodded in agreement. “Elon Musk is the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life and I’ve had dinner with Nancy Reagan.” 

“Whatever in the fuck. I don’t fucking care! Now put this painting in the –“ Ben paused. “If you say frunk, i’m gonna put a knife through this painting.”

“Frunk.” Chewie whispered, chuckling to himself. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rose studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Is Rey still at the bus station?”

“Airport.” Phasma corrected. “Hux said everything is running late.”

Rose tried mightily to remain calm and tried not to look at her face in the mirror. She looked ridiculous. One false eyelash looked crooked or maybe her face was less symmetrical than she’d imagined. “What should I tell this hair person?”

Rose and Phasma had locked themselves in bathroom at Ben’s house. They were trying to avoid the high strung wedding stylist named Ventress. 

The beauty pageant worthy layers of makeup looked great on Phasma but Rose decided that she was unrecognizable. She tried to press her eyelashes into better alignment.

“I have an idea.” Phasma lathered up her hands. She carefully dabbed a soapy finger into each eye, blinking hard as she started to tear up. 

“It’s an old modeling trick when we had to cry for photographers.” She batted her eyes as rivers of mascara ran down her cheeks.

Rose stared in astonishment. Oddly, Phasma looked even more beautiful with raccoon eyes.

“I’ll ask Ventress to start over on my face. By then, I’m sure Rey and Hux will be back.”

Rose copied Phasma and put soap in her own eyes. “Holy mother of fucking pearl! That hurts like a son of a bitch! Fuck me.”

Phasma pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. “Let’s ask Ventress for a more natural look this time.”

“That’s exactly what I asked for the first time and look at this drag.” Rose sputtered. She gaped at Phasma, unable to understand how the older woman was able to endure the discomfort so easily. 

Phasma shook her platinum blond hair, trying to mess it up. “Maybe Ventress can add a few waves?”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“You said 12, correct?” Hux inched his SUV into the passenger pick up lane at the airport.

Rey checked her phone for the millionth time. “He told me their flight gets in at noon. It looks like the flight was right on time.”

Hux avoided eye contact with the airport security guard was directing them to pull forward. “Plutt is your cousin?”

She nodded. Ben had encouraged her to reach out to her relatives when they gotten engaged. She hadn’t spoken to her cousin since her conviction for drug trafficking 8 years earlier. During the ordeal of her week long trial, he had brought her lunch several times. She had been a terrified 17 year old, in over her head. Plutt told her that everything was going to be OK. He would keep their Grandfather’s house and that they could live there when she got out. It was far fetched and she knew it. At sentencing, Plutt had been a no show as her character witness. Against her attorney’s advice she had made a statement about her family’s history of drug abuse and addiction. His family had been torn apart by his own father’s incarnation and his mother addiction to pain killers. She had read her prepared statement in court, pretending Plutt was sitting in the back row with a bag of sandwiches and chips from Subway. 

When she got out of jail, she had heard from neighbors that Plutt had moved to Philadelphia. Their Grandfather’s house had been burned to the ground and neighbors had seen Plutt hauling stuff out the same day the fire started. There was no home; nothing to come back to. Only the ragged fence remained, choked by weeds. 

Plutt had abandoned her; everything he’d told her had been made up. But at least he’d cared enough to lie.

Hux adjusted his mirror as other drivers around them honked. “Maybe the flight’s delayed?”

“Maybe I’ll text him again.” Rey hadn’t heard from Plutt directly but she had been messaging with his boyfriend, Jeremy. He had always been the responsible one. She had venmo’d money for them to fly in for the wedding. 

“Maybe this is a terrible mistake,” Rey said in a small voice.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I cannot believe you kicked me.” Ben hissed. 

“You had a knife in your hand.” Lando reasoned 

“It was a cake knife." Ben poured him a bourbon. "Honestly, like, what’s the hell is wrong with you? I’m getting married today.”

"I looked so cool kicking that knife, didn’t I?” Lando had his suit jacket draped around his shoulders and was holding an ice pack on his lower back. "I know you love this painting."

Ben didn’t bother to look at the grey abstraction. “It’s stolen.”

Lando took a gulp. “It certainly is not stolen.”

Ben adjusted his Uncle’s ice pack. “Well, It’s either a fake or stolen. Did you give me a reproduction of a Picasso as a wedding gift? Perhaps it’s a photo printed on canvas from Walgreens?

Lando gasped. “Show some respect. It’s Le Pigeon Aux Petits Pois! It’s a goddamn Picasso, son.”

“Which is stolen.” Ben reasoned. “So this is a fake?”

“As if!” Chewie braided his long beard, trying to look nonchalant.

Ben typed in the painting title into his phone and held the screen up for his Uncles to see. “Should I call the Paris Museum of Modern Art and see if the 10 million reward still stands?”

Lando tried to straighten his neck and winced in pain. “You wouldn’t dare?”

Ben positioned himself beside the painting. “Do you have any idea how many art historians are coming to my wedding?”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Well, you only invited 50 people to your daytime wedding, so I’m guessing maybe less than 10?”

Ben poured a drink for Chewie. “Geezus Lando, David Zwirner is gonna be here soon. He’d sell me out to the Feds in a nano second.”

“CIA” Chewie correctly robotically.

Lando waved away the comment. “Don’t be so dramatic, son. Zwirner’s your friend.”

Ben frowned. “He’s my gallerist . There’s a distinct difference. He’s like a friend but he’d love to see me go to jail. The worse my life gets, the happier he is.”

“That’s the only kind of friends we have.” Chewie mumbled to Lando who roared with laughter. 

Lando’s eyes twinkled merrily at the tall Czech. “And you, my furry friend, have more stolen shit than any of us.”

Chewie gasped theatrically. 

“Are you forgetting the Honjo Masamune sword hanging over your fireplace?”

“It’s reproduction. “Chewie switched to Czech softly. “Bezpečné uchování.”

“It doesn’t matter that it was a gift from Han.” Lando argued.

“Wait —What? What did my Dad do?”

As Lando sipped his bourbon, his voice turned airy. “Honestly Ben, when you get to be our age people just give you things for safe keeping.”

“Ano.” Chewie nodded. “Ano.”

Ben squinted at his Uncles. “You’re making it sound like this is Cold War intrigue. For fuck’s sake, this painting was stolen in 2010!”

Lando and Chewie were suddenly silent 

Their silence told Ben more than he wanted to know. “Dear god, do you two have the rest of the paintings?”

Chewie coughed and Lando studied his fingernails.  

“Oh my god. Which one of you has the Modigliani?”

“Not telling.” Lando cocked his head imperceptibly in Chewie’s direction. “It doesn’t matter, kid. We’re both leaving our art collections to you. It’s what Han would have wanted.”

Ben made a strangled sound.

Lando threw his tie over his shoulder, like a cape. “It’s a very long story. And today is your big day.” 

Chewie muttered something in Czech. 

“Oh Chewie, you’re right. We should go take our heart pills.” Holding his ice pack, Lando rose out of his seat slowly.

“No. No. No. Do not try to distract me. I know for a fact that neither one of you take heart medication. Did you and my dad steal artwork?”

Chewie shook his head and Lando adjusted his tie. “We would have never stolen artwork, son. Sometimes, as an American, you have a civic duty to keep artwork out of the hands of our enemies.”

“It’s art, not nuclear warheads. And you worked for NASA. You were pilots.” 

“Exactly!” Lando nodded. “And when you’re a national hero, extremely wealthy people want to give you gifts. As a public figure, it just happens.” 

“You already said that and it sounds even shadier the second time I’m hearing it.”

“It’s not breaking and entering if you’ve got a key.” Chewie grumbled. 

Ben put his hands over his ears and started counting backwards from 100.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Chapter Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After several reprimands, Hux had moved his car to the airport’s cellphone parking lot, grumbling along the way about the terminology. Rey wasn’t sure why the semantics bothered him as they were both glued to their phones. 

“There used to be a place where you could take your kids, just to look at planes.”

“I remember that.” She’d never seen it but she’d heard people talk about it in elementary school.

“My dad used to take me there sometimes. God, I wonder if it's around here somewhere? My mom’s Rotary Club met on Saturday morning so my Dad would take me grocery shopping and we’d go sit and watch the planes land. I always hoped I’d see something go wrong but it never did. Isn’t that weird?"

Rey wasn’t sure if Hux was asking if it was weird to wish for disaster or that it never happened. She didn’t know him well enough to guess. 

“Jeremy is your cousin?” Hux wound his watch, absentmindedly.

“Plutt is my cousin. Jeremy is his boyfriend. They've been together since high school.” Maybe they were married now? Would he have told her? 

“Which side of the family?” Hux asked as he scanned the sky.

“My Dad’s side.” Rey felt uneasy because it felt like he was hoping hear that there was one side of her family that wasn’t fucked up. Without drunks and junkies. With children that hadn’t been scrutinized by social services. How many generations would she have to peel back in order to find an upliftingl story?

“Is Plutt older or younger?”

She bristled. “He’s 4 years older.” But she understood why he was asking. She had been sending Plutt money since she’d been bumped up to full time at the Children’s Library. They hadn’t spoken in since her Grandfather’s trial but as soon as the library announced her promotion on their website, the messages had started. Could she send money for a new wheelchair? Could she send a gift card for groceries? Could she spare just a little more this month? Ben had helped her establish some limits but when they had gotten engaged, she had decided to send money for them to fly in for the wedding.

It wasn’t like she wanted to see him. Or listen to him argue with Jeremy. Plutt had his moments but, in general, they had never been close. Plutt had a long list of poorly managed health problems: diabetic, anemic, acid reflux, bad teeth. When she was younger, she tried to help him improve his health. At some point, she realized that he didn’t actually want to change. So when Jeremy came along, she was content to let someone else take over. 

Despite his unhealthy lifestyle of fast food, smoking and inactivity, Plutt wasn't an addict. He was one of the few adults in her family that didn’t take drugs. Whatever disaster Plutt was, he was consistently that person and his house had become a refuge for Rey growing up. He and Jeremy weren’t nurturing or supportive but they kept the electric turned on and they never hit her. 

Was that her criteria for wedding guests? She caught sight of her tired expression in the window reflection and decided that Plutt was probably better than no one. She messaged Jeremy about their fight and realized that she hadn't actually heard from them all day. 

“My father died when I was 14,” Hux said unexpectedly, staring out the window.

“What?” Rey turned to her former teacher. When he spoke of his past, it was almost always in relation to Ben. The bikes they used to ride, the swim team they’d been on, how they’d met in detention, how Ben had irreversibly latched onto Hux. How Hux had quietly done the exact same thing. 

Hux turned to Rey, his wide shoulders blocking out the traffic around them. “After my dad died, it was just my mom and I. She worked a lot before but it was like she worked nonstop after he died”

Rey set down her phone. “Did she need the money?”

“No.” Hux frowned. “She didn’t want to be alone with me. I was always a weird kid but I sort of got really really weird. And creepy.”

Rey didn’t want to say that people still found him a little bit creepy. He had written a successful series of extraordinarily violent graphic novels in his twenties which had been optioned for a movies. Even though no movie had ever been made, the movie options had bought him a house and provided him a fortune. The acclaim for the novels had paved the way for his tenure track job at Illium University. The cult following of the books had made him untouchable as a tenured faculty member but he had never been well liked by his students or colleagues. 

“When I met Ben, I had gotten caught looking up prostitutes at school. The principal called the police so everyone knew about it. It was messed up and pervy but it did set me apart from other people."

Rey wasn't sure how to react, it seemed so out of character. She'd only known Hux as a teacher, as a father, as Ben's best friend. It was hard to imagine him as a teenager. But it was hard to imagine Ben that way too. They were both so set in their ways, so much larger than life, so confident.

Hux fiddled with his watch band. "Like I'd always been a weird rich kid but then everything thought I was, like, perverted and contaminated. I felt like my life was over. And then I met Ben.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “He was simultaneously a loner and the neediest person I’d ever met.”

“He isn’t like that around anyone but you.” Rey smiled.

“I think he would go to my doctor’s appointments with me if I’d let him.” Hux laughed happily. “And now he has you. And none of his weirdness seems scares you off.”

Rey wasn’t sure how to respond. Ben’s strange intensity made him more lovable. She never felt like she needed to pretend to be a whole person around him. He knew she was broken and he never tried to fix her. Like he had done with Hux, Ben folded his life around Rey.

“You let him take pictures of your refrigerator.” Rey teased.

“See, it sounds weird when you say it but I’m totally used to it. I feel like I've spend half my life arguing with Ben about potatoes and podcasts.”

Rey sighed. She’d had gotten used to it too. Ben Solo didn’t do anything halfway, whether it was having opinions about hand sanitizers, making artwork or being in a relationship. Where he and Hux strove for a hivemind on all things, she and Ben delighted in their differences. 

Today, on her wedding day, Hux was an almost identical stand in for her fiancé. They had chosen identical Hugo Boss suits, Saint Laurent shirts and Gucci loafers. It was odd but not unexpected. They often shopped together, arguing as they went. Hux’s taste prevailed but only because Ben badgered him to make all the decisions. Left to his own devices, Hux knew he would spiral into obsessive tendencies. 

He sniffed his wrists. "I'm still trying to decide between two colognes. Ben likes Hugo Boss’ Hero but I think I need to insist on Comme des Garcons. It's timeless, don't you think?"

Rey obediently sniffed his extended wrists, unsure which one she liked better. She checked her phone again. No word from Plutt.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rose had gone upstairs to get away from Ventress. And Ben’s Uncles. And Finn, if she was being honest. He and Poe were playing Fortnite on a giant tv in the guest room. It infuriated her to think that her boyfriend’s big decision of the day was whether or not to shave. She, on the other hand, had to deal with false eyelashes and the sharp blinding pain of her strapless bra. 

“What in the fuckness?” 

She’d opened the door to the walk in closet to find Pelli Motto sitting in the dark. Her printmaking professor was holding an orange cat on her lap (was the orange one BB8?). She was stroking the cat’s fur with Ben’s hairbrush. 

“I can tell you’re a bit stressed.” Pelli whispered to the cat, seemingly unaware of Rose’s presence.

Rose shuddered as the cat meowed back loudly in response. Were they communicating?

Pelli seemed to consider the meow for a moment. “Perhaps I am a bit stressed? I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve never officiated a wedding before. Except for my own and wasn’t exactly what you’d call street legal.”

BB8 let out a loud howl before jumping off her lap.

Pelli put her hands on her hips and laughed at the cat. “Of course, I’m Methodist. You’re a hoot! Meow! Meow! Meow!”

BB8 looked up at Rose like she was a traitor. 

“Catch up with me later, OK” Pella winked at the cat. “We’ll all get high after the ceremony. Tell all your cat friends to meet me outside after the wedding.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s an investment piece.” Lando said to David Zwirner, Ben’s art dealer, who had let himself in the front door.

Zwirner squinted at the Picasso. “Well, it’s stolen so you can’t resell it.”

“Maybe you can’t.” Chewie said without missing a beat. “But there’s always a buyer out there.” 

Lando elbowed Zwirner. “I bet you have some questionable works in your garage.”

“Not the garage but I do have Virgin in a Condom in my mud room.”

Lando coughed into his champagne glass. “What the hell is that?” 

The esteemed gallerist poured himself a glass of orange juice. “It’s a controversial sculpture created by Tania Kovats in 1994.”

Chewie nodded. “And you stole it?”

Zwirner held up his hands, innocently. “No. I’m protecting it for future generations.”

“Exactly!” Lando smiled happily. “See, he understands us.”

Ben strode into the room and grabbed the champagne out of Lando’s hands. “Oh my god, who said you could open that? Those bottles of are for the wedding!”

"You cannot possibly be serious, son. You’re serving your guests Ferrari Perle Nero Trento?” Lando chuckled. “Your mother would insist that we intervene. Chewie, does Uber Eats deliver Dom Perignan?”

Chewie pulled out a pair of reading glasses and began swiping through his phone. "Tsarine Cuvee Adriana Brut Champagne can be here in 20 minutes."

"No!" Lando tried to roll his neck and was greeted by a wall of pain.

"But they are nice looking bottles. See." Chewie held up his phone. "50 guests equals 10 bottles." 

Lando frowned and Chewie doubled the number. “Son, we're gonna to need to chill the champagne in your second refrigerator."

“I do not have a second refrigerator.” Ben snapped.

“Oh, I think you’re bluffing. This is the Midwest. You must have two refrigerators.”

Ben rubbed his eyes in irritation. “OK. Fine, it’s in the basement.”

"I’m going to level with you – I don’t even like this Picasso. It’s ugly as hell." Zwirner topped off his orange juice. 

“We keep things safe for the good of mankind.” Chewie whispered conspiratorially, adding champagne to Zwirner’s orange juice. 

Ben rolled his eyes. “It’s a Picasso, not the Holy Grail.” 

“23 million is pretty close.” Chewie mumbled, tracking the Uber driver’s progress.

Chapter Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hux fidgeted while Rey stared at the her phone, waiting for a response from Plutt. Unable to think of any way of reassuring her, he checked in on Phasma.

AHux: Everything OK there?

PhasmaOlssonHux: NO

PhasmaOlssonHux: Definitely not OK

PhasmaOlssonHux: WHERE ARE YOU

PhasmaOlssonHux: Wedding is in 2 hours. Ben is freaking out 

AHux: Stuck at the airport. Rey wants to wait for her cousin. I don’t know what to do.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Staring down at her phone, Rey ran her fingers through her hair nervously. She’d grown it out long for the wedding, like her mother’s. 

After much digging, Ben had tracked down a copy of her parent’s high school year book. They weren’t in many pictures, her mother had been in the Art Club looking pretty and optimistic. Her handsome father had showed up in a picture that could have served as an anti-smoking campaign for midwestern teenagers: boys in leather jackets and scraggly mustaches standing in a patchy gravel parking lot. She knew her parents hadn’t graduated high school and she wondered what had happened over the course of their senior year that had drawn them so far off course. Even as the question drifted through her mind, she knew the answer. Addiction was the faceless villain in her story. In her lifetime of unstable housing, overcrowded by unpredictable adults, drugs and alcohol had been a constant. She had learned the basic lessons of math by counting beer cans. A passed out parent was like an algebraic equation. Would they be OK by the time she went to school? Should she make her own dinner? A shot was worth the same as how many wine coolers? Was her Grandmother safe to drive? 

What would her Mother’s life have been like if she hadn’t met her Father? She wanted to reach through the faded photographs and whisper to the girl with the long French braids: put your head down, listen to your teachers, work hard enough and escape from your shitty future. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"They’re supposed to be here by now." Ben whispered to no one in particular.

"Could you call her?" Chewie in a soft voice. "Or we could drive? Tesla makes a nice car. I can get one for you, no charge." 

Ben knew that meant something shady but he wasn’t in the mood to dig into an argument with his Uncle. He left Lando and David Zwirner with the wedding stylist who seemed to be getting increasingly drunk. He trailed after Chewie for no other reason than he needed out of the house. Rey was supposed to be back an hour ago. Without her or Hux, he was at loose ends.

Their rented Telsa was a mess. He chucked food wrappers off the passenger’s seat as Chewie pawed at the radio. “What the fuck? Did you two live in this car for a week?” Ben pointed to the garbage strewn over the floor. 

“You know Lando and his fast foods.” Chewie sighed and swiped up a McDonald's bag as he turned onto a busier street.

“No, no, no. Do not eat those messed up nuggets. You’re going to smell like old chicken. You're gonna to get sick.”

Chewie shrugged and began opening ketchup packets while he steered with his knee.

“I prefer that you concentrate on driving the motherfucking car. Two hands! Two hands!” Ben croaked.

“Tesla cars can drive themselves.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. Put the nugget down.”

Chewie blew through a red light. He shrugged. “That looked yellow to me.”

“Oh my god, are you actually this bad of a driver or are you just fucking with me?” 

When his quiet uncle didn’t reply Ben realized in a blinding flash that his uncles were, in fact, deliberately fucking with him. They had chosen to show up with stolen artwork to distract him. And then proceeded to roll out their A-Game bizarre behavior. They knew from years of experience that Ben’s anxiety would be maxed out by the wedding. Suddenly, his calm Serbian uncle spilling ketchup on his Armani suit seemed endearing and slightly less deadly.

“Oh hey, maybe that’s Rey.” Chewie pointed to a car coming toward them. He calmly shoveled the chicken into his mouth, whipping the car into a stunning u-turn worthy of an action hero, prompting other several other drivers to flip them off. Nodding to each middle finger, he muttered a curse in a language Ben didn’t recognize.

“Oh big mistake. That was not Rey. She does not drive a Ford Fiesta."

“Of course not. Jesus, those are death traps.” Ben had presssured Rey into buying an used Subaru Outback

“In Serbia, there is a wedding tradition called Shooting of the Apple.”

“I don’t know what that is but I don’t want to do that. Please tell me you didn't bring a gun.” Ben craned his neck to look for Rey.

Chewie headed back to Ben’s house. “The groom puts apple on the highest tree in the yard, and then he then must shoot it down. Or perhaps it is the father of the bride? Anyway, the bride cannot leave house until apple is shot.”

“That’s a terrible tradition.” Ben grumbled.

“You have terrible tradition; something borrowed, something blue. What is the something blue? Nobody knows.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ReyBees: Hi Jeremy -- wondering about your ETA?

ReyBees: Is Plutt in a wheelchair or is he using a walker?

Rey stared at her phone, her heart lept when her message was read. Plutt’s boyfriend had been responding for over a minute. The series of dots stared back at her. She scrolled through her cousin's Facebook page. The years hadn’t been kind to Plutt. Neither he or Jeremy looked healthy in the photos online. Plutt was diabetic and she knew he had liver problems. 

Hux followed her eyes to study her phone. "Did you hear anything from your cousin yet?"

"No." Rey felt like her mind was going a million miles a minute. "What were you saying about your Dad and how you met Ben in detention?"

"I remember, it was one of the first times we hung out. We were waiting for the bus and Ben just said, ‘You're not really into prostitutes, are you?’ Ben knew; he could see right through me."

Rey was confused. "You were just looking up picture but you weren’t into hookers?"

"No. My dad was with an escort when he OD’d. It was cocaine but my mom told everyone that he had a heart condition. The prostitute had driven him to the hospital and she was still there when the doctor told us he was dead. I don’t know why she stayed but she did. She told me her name was Starla but, you know, I knew that wasn’t her real name. I don’t know why it bothered me so much to know she was out there. I felt like if I could figure out who she really was and find her then I’d understand. And it would all make sense."

"Understand what?" Rey asked carefully.

"I’d know what it was about her that made my dad want to throw everything away. Like, I thought it was her fault. Like she’d tempted him into it. Like there was something so miraculously appealing about this woman. What made him choose this woman over my mom?"

Rey set down her phone.

Hux exhaled slowly. "But now that I'm older, I know that she was probably one of many. Who knows how long my dad had been doing that? Maybe my whole life? Somehow, I thought if I could find Starla, it would all make sense."

"I’m sorry, Hux." 

"Me too." 

They sat in silence. Rey picked up her phone to see that the three dots were still there. Jeremy was still typing something. 

Reybees: Where are you?

She stared at the cars driving away from the airport and typed a new message.

Reybees: You aren’t coming, are you.

Jeremy StoneJR92: LOL. No. 

Reybees: Did you even buy tickets? 

Jeremy StoneJR92: No sorry lol 

Reybees: lol?

Jeremy StoneJR92: 😆 

Reybees: Why did you say you’d come? 

Jeremy StoneJR92: 🤷

Reybees: Were you ever even thinking about coming to my wedding 

Jeremy StoneJR92: Plutt is dead. 

Reybees: What 

Jeremy StoneJR92: He died in August . 

Reybees: Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me 

Jeremy StoneJR92: Why the fuck would I tell you? U weren’t around. Where were u when he was dying ?

Reybees: I didn’t know he was sick 

Jeremy StoneJR92: U r a heartless bitch 

Reybees: I didn’t know he was sick.

Jeremy StoneJR92: Plutt was sick for years. U were 2 busy with your fancy college. U should have visited him when he was alive

Reybees: He didn’t speak to me after I went to prison 

Jeremy StoneJR92: Because u ratted out your own fucking family 

Reybees: My parents OD'd on drugs from my grandfather

Jeremy StoneJR92: Boo hoo hoo

Jeremy StoneJR92: Thanks for cash 💰 send more next time you’re feeling guilty 

Hux looked at in concern. "Rey, what’s wrong?"

Rey swallowed hard. "I was wrong about Plutt coming." She put down her phone, swiping to clear their exchange . 

He watched her close her eyes and stare into space. "No one is coming?"

Rey shook her head. "No. We can leave."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Hux started the car and turned onto the highway 

When Rey finally spoke, her voice was small. "I thought it was so mature of me to change my name and make a new life. But sometimes—like right now, on my wedding day—it feels like a lie, like my life has been make believe. I still have that poison inside of me. Does this ever stop hurting or do I mutate into an alien species?" 

"The latter, I think." Hux shrugged. "I feel like an alien. It was such a relief when I became friends with Ben. Everyone at school thought he was this total dickhead — it was like no one noticed that I was, like, barely human. Being in his orbit freed me."

Rey nodded, hugging her arms around her chest.

"Sometimes really good people come from horrible families. My dad seemed like the perfect guy to everyone who knew him but he had rotted from the inside out."

"I don’t think you’re rotten at all, Hux." 

"That’s my goal. I want to pass for human. I married someone who makes me want to be better." 

Rey nodded. "Ben would never let me slip into darkness." 

Hux turned away from the road to look at her. "Rey, you would never let yourself slip into darkness. I don’t know you that well but I do know that you’ve fought hard to become this version of yourself. Ben can’t save you from yourself but he’ll keep you busy." 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"Is he asleep?" David Zwirner poked at Ben's shoulder. There was no response. He turned his glass of champagne in a circle as he considered the stolen painting in front of him. "What if we returned this Picasso? You could stage a reverse break in?" 

"We never broke in. We always had keys." Chewie mumbled and received an elbow to the gut from Lando.

Zwirner laughed. "I’m guessing they’ve changed the locks since then."

"No need to be negative." Lando successfully picked a blackberry off a mini cheesecake without detection."

"I could crash a plane into an abandoned barn?" Chewie suggested. 

Lando brightened. "That’s a good idea. Maybe an island?" 

"I excel at ditching a plane over water. Just like Amelia Earhart." 

Lando nodded thoughtfully. "We’d look like heroes and we’d never have to explain the fingerprints."

Zwirner wasn't sure if they were kidding or not. The two former NASA pilots were pulling up google maps. Chewie was looking at islands off the coast of Massachusetts and Lando was looking the shoreline of Northern Michigan. "Can I come along?"

"That depends. Can you swim?"

Chapter Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Ben found Rey sitting outside alone on the back deck. As she twirled the ends of her braids, C3PO was uncharacteristically silent by her side. His fluffy tail wagged back and forth slowly, like a clock pendulum. 

Rey didn’t move a muscle as he sat down next to her. Their knees touched but she seemed a hundred miles away. Ben’s hands shook as he turned her chin to face him. “Are you OK?”

“Isn’t it bad luck for us to see each other on our wedding day?”

He nudged her shoulder. “Rey, we don’t need luck.”

She pressed her lips together, self consciously. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes today.”

He studied the far away look in her eyes. “I’m sorry about Plutt.” 

“He was kind of an asshole. But he was my cousin.” She shook her head slowly. “I thought if I repaired one relationship, if I had one person in my family who was OK with me, that my past wouldn’t be a total wash.”  

Ben wanted to comfort her, pull her into his arms, burn down the entire world and remake it for her. But he knew that wasn’t what Rey needed. Pain was eating her up from the inside out and nothing he could do would fix it. “Did you read Pelli’s Motto’s most recent book?”

Rey started to unravel one of her braids. “I didn’t know she wrote another book.”

“Pelli hand bound 5 copies and then she threw them all in the School of Art dumpster. I’m pretty sure that Hux and I have the only copies. It didn’t get it at first: the first 50 pages are exactly the same as her first book, just a couple word changes here and there. Huxy, being the scholar that he is, found them all.”

Rey tried not to react. She had never been able to get through Pelli’s dense narratives. 

“In her first book, the main character tries to find her family wedding dress in her mother’s hoarder house. And her mom has alzheimers so she was battling the clutter of her mother’s mind and the clutter of the house. In the first book, she finds the dress and it’s all fucked up and she throws it away. She says, ‘Destroy the past, burn it if you have to.’ But then at her wedding, she feels like the marriage ceremony is meaningless because the past is gone, like she’s without roots. But in the new book, she keeps the tattered ragged dress and she and her her fiancée have a big fight about it. She goes through with the wedding but her eyes have opened and she realizes, during the reception, that she's married to an asshole.”

“OK. Wow. Those both sound like terrible endings.”

“I think her point was that the dress and her mother are gone in both books. I mean, the Mom is alive but her memories are gone. The main character was trying to find the family wedding dress because she wanted to bridge a connection to the past because she misses it so much. She’s hoping that she can magically make the pain go away by honoring the past. But the past is just fucking gone. Whether you salvage a connection to your past or let it slip through your fingers, it's still lost.”

“The past is gone.” Rey repeats his words but they sound hollow to her ears.

“I’ve spend so much of my life battling with my family’s legacy. Luke’s legacy. My Father. My Mother. Ignoring them, pushing them away, trying to emulate them, trying to be good enough for them value me. But my biggest failure was pretending like I didn’t care. I could cut every single piece of Luke’s artwork into tiny pieces or put it back together but that doesn’t change anything. He’s still the person I looked up to.”

“I didn’t look up to Plutt.”

“But you could rely on him and he made you feel safe."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she couldn’t form words.

“You wouldn’t be you if he hadn’t been there.” He reached out for Rey’s hand. “We’re here now and they’re gone. It’s ok to miss him. You can miss someone even if you didn’t have a perfect relationship with them.” 

“I don’t want the past to vanish like it never mattered.” 

They sat without speaking. The sounds of laughter drifted out from inside the house. Ben stared at her intently. “We don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t need a wedding ceremony to be committed to you. I can tell all these people to fuck off and go home.” 

Rey laughed. “Ben, there’s no way your uncles would go home.”

“They are pretty tipsy at this point. We could go hide in the basement?”

“No, I want to do this.” Rey’s voice was quiet and steady. “But I need to do it differently. Give me a minute?”

“Of course,” Ben said evenly. 

“I’ll see you at the altar, Ben Solo.” 

“I’ll see you at the altar Rey Niima.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rey sat down in front of Ventress with Rose by her side.

The wedding stylist frowned mightily as she started to undo Rey’s braids. “Honey, I don’t think we have time for a decent updo. But we could do a quick high pony or a messy bun?”

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Rey shook her head. “Cut it off.”

“What?”

“Cut. My. Hair. Off.” Rey said, annunciating each word.

Ventress bristled. “Oh no, sugar, that’s more of a honeymoon thing.” 

Rose handed her the scissors. “Oh for fucks sake, cut her fucking hair off.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“We are protecting Michaelangelo's Leda and the Swan. For future generations.” Chewie whispered conspiratorially, adding champagne to Zwirner’s orange juice. 

“Bullshit.” Zwirner watched Lando, searching for signs of deceit. 

Ben took a swig from the bottle. "No way. It’s been lost for years."

"Or has it?"

Zwirner swallowed, he stared at Chewie and Lando openly amazed by them. "Who are you?"

"We're astronauts." Chewie said, his voice not wavering.

Ben tucked the packing materials back around the painting in front of him. "If this Picasso is returned to the Musée d'Art Moderne in Paris-"

Lando tapped his lip thoughtfully. "I don't mind the idea of buying Ben a nice Alice Neel or an Anna Weyant. Hey Zwirner, is Larry Gagosian coming today?"

"To my wedding?" Ben chuckled. "Absolutely fucking not, we got into a fist fight at Art Basile over a Warhol that Luke wasn’t supposed to have. He was keeping the Blue Shot Marilyn safe for Peter Brant when he was going through divorce proceedings. They’ve since reconciled, of course, but Brant said he’d rather die than lose it in the divorce." 

Ben looked at Lando and Chewie with an almost pained expression. "Do you really have Leda and the Swan? It was supposedly burned in seventeenth century because it was too scandalous."

Chewie held up his phone to show Zwirner his dining room. "Leda watches over me."

Ben stared at his Uncles in astonishment. "That painting could change art history. Books would be rewritten."

Lando clamped a hand onto Ben's shoulder. "You're going to change history, kid. It's what Han would have wanted."

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hux straightened the lapels of Ben’s Hugo Boss tux as they stood in front of the fireplace which was serving as the altar. “What happened to your shirt? You look idiotic in that sweater." He was, of course, lying. Ben’s sweater-suit combination was effortlessly chic. Hux made a mental note to copy it.

Ben ran his shaking hands through his hair. “I got blood on Saint Laurent shirt. My pants too but the stains don’t show.”

“Wait — blood?”

“I had a bit of an incident outside and Phasma put me in a headlock." Ben's voice sounded heavier than usual. 

“I’m sorry. What?”

“There’s a Serbian wedding tradition where you shoot an apple out of a tree.” Ben's voice was slightly slurred.

Hux tilted his head. “Are you drunk?”

“I couldn’t make the shot and then Phasma sort of wrestled me to the ground and I got a bloody nose.”

“You were shooting at a tree?" Hux's lip curled. "In this neighborhood? I’m surprised you didn’t end up in jail.”

“It was just a pellet gun.” Ben admitted.

“Where did you get a pellet gun?”

Ben shrugged. “Chewie said they came with the Tesla.”

“In their alternate reality, how many guns come with a rented Tesla?"

"Uhhh, three. Zwirner shot Maz Kanatas’ wind chimes."

Hux cracked a smile. "He did us a favor. What kind of person has five wind chimes? What did he give you as a wedding present?"

Ben fluffed Hux's hair. "I asked for a Bill Traylor painting but he told me to go fuck myself and then he let me pick out a Toshiko Takaezu."

Hux frowned. "Are you drunk now?"

Ben's eyes focused a beat slower than normal. "Phas held me down and made me take half a klonopin. She, like, held my mouth closed and blew in my face."

Hux couldn't hide his admiration for his wife. "Oh, she does that with our dog. I had no idea that worked for people."

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After the wedding, Rey and Rose sat at the side of the makeshift dance floor on the back deck of the house. 

"Isn’t the first dance supposed to be the Bride and Groom?" Rose asked.

Rey smiled at Ben and Hux slowly waltzing together. She shrugged. "I really don’t mind. They seem happy and it's been a long day."

Hux grinned happily as he slow danced with his best friend. The Beta Band’s Dry the Rain echoed through the speakers. “Is this your wedding song?

Ben nodded. "This one of my favorite songs."

Hux closed his eyes, enjoying the song. "I know. Mine too. How did you get Rey to agree to it?"

"Oh, I forgot to ask her." Ben looked at his wife. He had never been so sure about the rightness of anything before in his entire life. Rey was the person that he was meant to be with. The person he was meant to inhabit this house with. The person who he loved with unparalleled ease. The person who made the future seem exciting and hopeful instead of the way he used to see the years ahead, like a prison sentence.

Hux caught his best friend's eyes. "I heard Luke’s restored painting is going to the Met."

He nodded. "Officially, Kiran Nadar and Kohler Foundation purchased it from The Resistance Gallery for $500,000. They’re donating it to the Met but it’s gonna stay under wraps until after the Gala. Zwirner confirmed it today." 

"So you took a piece of artwork that was worth about a million, cut it up, paid for it to be restored it and sold it for half the original price plus Zwirner's cut?"

Ben rolled his eyes. "Can you just let me be happy about this? Luke's fucking painting is going to be on the cover of The New Yorker."

Hux twirled Ben around in time with the music. "That’s not Luke’s piece anymore, you know that? 

"Well, his name is sure as hell gonna be on it." Ben snapped. 

"Maybe you’re intending it to be respectful but people are going to see it as you being a subversive little asshat. Again."

I’m OK with subversive. Luke would have approved of it going to The Met. This is step one of reshaping his legacy."

Hux was 90% sure that Luke would not have approved but he would have appreciated the attention. "You’re gonna be back in the news again with this one, Solo." 

"So what?"

"What if you list the reconstruction as a collaboration?" Hux mused. "You and Luke."

Ben chuckled. "That’s a great idea. My Mother would have liked that. And Luke would have hated it."

Rey tapped on Hux’s shoulder. "May I cut in?" 

"Of course. It is your wedding, after all." Hux withdrew gallantly into Phasma’s waiting arms. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hux toyed with his wife's short hair. She smelled like hairspray but looked divine. "Thanks for everything. It sounds like you had a fucker of a day, Phas."

She looked out over the view of the sun setting over Illium. "Well, I wrestled pellet guns away from elderly former astronauts and I confiscated Pelli Motto’s bong. She was blowing pot smoke into the cat’s faces in the backyard before officiating the wedding."

Hux looked over at Pelli, who was pouring whisky into a can of beer. "I don't think that she's ordained on any level. Remind me to ask Ben about that."

Phasma sighed heavily. "Damn it, I hope to hell those cats aren’t dead." 

"I counted 3 of them in the kitchen earlier." He had definitely not being speed eating min cheesecakes while checking on the cats. Hux kissed his wife’s her forehead. "You’re an exquisite goddess, Phasma."

"This was a long hellscape of a day but still, it was a day away from the kids. And I am finally dancing with the most handsome man in the room."

Hux’s gaped theatrically. "Moi?"

Phasma looked over at Rey. "Do you think they’re gonna be OK?" 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rey waved at Rose and Finn who had joined them on the dance floor. 

"You look gorgeous, Rose." Ben called out.

"Ohhhh thank you. I aim to please." Rose dramatically gestured at her tuxedo shirt which was open at the neck to show off her signature bling necklace.

Slowly, Ben's gaze shifted to meet Rey’s wide green eyes. He realized that Rey was clutching his arm. His eyes met hers again and he finally saw her lips tremble. She stopped mid step and he felt his heart drop.

"Are you really OK?" Ben mouthed the words to Rey. 

She shook her head. "No. I’m tired."

“What’s wrong?” He was afraid to touch her.

She shook her head. Etta James At Last continued play as guests chatted happily around them. 

“I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?” Ben was unaccustomed to seeing Rey frightened.  

“When I’m with you, I feel like I’m worth something." 

Ben shook his head. "You matter more to me than anything in the universe."  

Rey swallowed, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "It’s hard to trust it. It’s hard to let relationships matter. My own family didn’t give a shit about me. And I got used to it. Not mattering always worked for me." She gestured helplessly at the wedding guests. "All these people caring about me -- this isn’t my life.” She managed to whisper.

Ben thought about the lengths Chewie and Lando tactics. "My uncles gave us a very famous stolen painting, Phasma hit me in the face, you cut your hair off and, I hate to point out the obvious, but we invited some extremely strange people into our home.” Ben’s eyes glittered. “So this definitely feels like my life.” 

Rey's fingertips ran down the side of Ben's neck. Her heart warmed seeing how her touch affected him. How his adam's apple bobbed. She stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss on his lips. She couldn't help kissing him again, tasting champagne on his soft pillowy lips. "What are you doing with someone like me?"

"I need you." Ben's eyes locked with hers. "You’re fearless Rey."

She looked down. "No, I'm not. I’m scared all the time." 

"But It never stops you." He pulled her closer. "You knew exactly what I was like from the beginning but you didn’t stay away from me." 

Rey's arms tightened around Ben. "You aren’t the sum of your actions, Ben Solo."

"And you aren’t the sum of what other people have done to you, Rey Niima. Or what’s been taken away from you."

"We aren’t victims or villains," she whispered. "We're just us."

As he danced with his wife, surrounded by his friends, Ben's eyes fell on the Elizabeth Peyton's paintings on the wall of Luke, Leia and the boy he had once been. Sometimes, he liked to pretend that the paintings were watching over them. He inhaled Rey's soft perfume. The past was beautiful but he couldn't reach back into it. It couldn't comfort him. He could only find comfort in his memories. He looked across the room to where his uncles stood, watching them from the edge of the dance floor. He wondered what kind of schemes they were whispering about. Stealing Teslas? Ridiculously complicated Starbucks orders? Priceless artworks? Future heists and getaway cars? Lando and Chewie raised their glasses to him. For once in his life, he felt right nodding back at their smiling faces.