not all I know

LOLA.

[OPEN]

So much for her Cinderella night.

It’d been Lola’s first gala as herself, and everything had pointed to a positive. To the stuff of dreams, of brushing elbows with all idols, or even saying hi to a couple of them, too. Of getting tipsy and wearing a flowy dress, and twirl, twirl, twirl. 

Now, that dress is a puddle of sheer black fabric around her as she settles on a bench in one of the  balconies, a place of privacy where being pathetic is allowed. 

(We’re going to shatter treasures you deem invaluable into an unrecognizable state, the voice had said as Lola’s ears were still drumming. Not much thought was spared to it, at the time. And see whether the world keeps spinning.)

(Not until her parents came rushing, in distress over the lost piece, and not their daughter’s blood pooling beneath her feet.)

She’d already fixed her make-up, but it’s not to much use, now. She’s crying again, her mascara running down her cheeks again. She wipes a smudge again. It’s just Lola alone in the night, until she hear footsteps approach. 

“Smoke got in my eyes.” Hard sniff. “…Does my hair look okay?”

Just sit back. Perks of being part of the Brotherhood. Everything was going according to plan. Pretend. He had to watch and pretend as if he was just as confused as everyone else. But he was still himself, and he knew that he couldn’t bear the fact that she was hurt as he waited around. He had to do something. 

“You’re worried about your hair?” He didn’t know what to do when it came to injuries and whatnot, considering he didn’t know much about anything. But still, he wasn’t just going to sit around. “Do you want my jacket? It could probably stop the bleeding.”

KYAN.

-

“Sure you are,” Ky replies, lip ticking up in the corner when he reminds himself who the guy he’d been keen to remove is – not exactly hard to recognise after another moment with such a distinct look; guy sticks out like a damn punk at church meet; isn’t exactly wearing his Sunday best, but then again, neither’s Kyan in this place – and not just because it’s Friday. “Like a fly on th’ wall, always escaping being swatted with those little plastic spatula’s,” the man’s fingers feign a fly buzzing around Archie’s face like he’s at least happy it’s him opposed to a stranger who could very much be a larger problem.

Then it’s fast back to business and he realises he’s serious about buying smokes – “Lookie at you making bold decisions,” he’s joking, glances between the man behind the counter and Archie that’s a cross between mockery and pleasantries. “Nostalgia, eh? Well, I mean you can go for both, Luckies Camel – maybe that’s ya calling?” Ky’s shrugging, playing off the exchange where his mind’s one tracking a route to get the evening closed up so he can organise the weekend with his daughter. “I’m thinkin’ in all your ways you should acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths,” can’t resist; finds something for everything, he’s laughing quietly, points his finger at Haider once more with this humoured grin:

“But I were right, you ain’t a Pall Mall guy,”

He considered himself a hoot, the life of the party at times if needed. He was an idiot after-all, one with a big sense of humor and the need to feel liked. “C’mon, I’m such good company,” He didn’t read people pretty well, so he was usually all over the place when he was with them. AKA he was never quiet. “I know that I’d hate being a fly because that buzzing sound would annoy me 24/7.” He would hate that, a lot. “But yeah, guess I know some stuff. Like this dude that lives across from my apartment is always getting Grubhub at like four in the morning.” 

He wasn’t that picky, not when it came to cigarettes. He liked them cheap, even if he could afford ones below the bare minimum. He just never gave any of them a second thought, honestly. “So what are you gonna get then?” He asked, eyes looking at the counter. “The better question is, who is a Pall Mall guy at this point?” 

JACOB.

•

Jacob shrugged at the question and scoffed, “politics. I think. Who knows. Heard something about fucking oompa loompas but I couldn’t really tell over the yelling.” Which had drawn him in in the first place. He settled back in his spot by the bar, taking a swig of his nearly forgotten beer. “I think it’s the uh…I have nothing better to do so I’ll be a dick syndrome. Can happen anytime but especially on weekends.” When he was a beat cop, Fridays and Saturdays had some of the highest turnaround of people in and out of the precinct for drunken and disorderly conduct. 

Thankfully, once kicked out, the two idiots seemed to have gone on their way, though not without shouting profanities back at Jacob and the other helping. He glanced at Archie, “Vanessa and I brought in someone last week who wouldn’t shut up about the illuminati. Which was their excuse for why they’d embezzled a hundred grand from their non-profit. If this job’s taught me anything, it’s that people are idiots.”

ABBY.

•

“Oof, it’s happened before, believe it or not. Not like everything I was carrying but I was ambitious one time and uh…decided to try a Costco run? A terrible decision really. Just call me Icarus, always flying too close to the sun,” she quipped, adjusting the bag as she began up the next flight of steps. “Nah, that’s A.C Moore. There’s a few Michael’s but I went to the one way downtown, you know, by the Flatiron building? It’s the bigger one but I guess that’s what got me in trouble.” Especially given the fact that they were now in Harlem…she definitely should’ve taken an Uber.

“Regardless, thanks for coming with, Archie.” He was a good friend, even if it wasn’t exactly in his plan for the day to help tote too many art supplies through the subway system. “See, I would but I trust my neighbors about as far as I can throw them,” which was….not far at all, “and it’s not like I have an office to deliver to instead,” the perks of freelance around the city, “so I guess until I figure my shit out, I’ll be suffering.” Said with a grin, though, because no one was more hard pressed to have a bad attitude about something than Abby, who could always find a silver lining. 

“Besides, I was able to recruit you which was just a sneaky way of getting you to hang out.” She shouldered her way through a group of teenagers who were on their phones as they hit the top of the steps, exiting the station. Abby took a deep breath of almost spring air and shook her head. “I’m not looking forward to summer commutes.” When the subways were filled with sweaty bodies, thick with humidity and train cars whose air conditioning decided to stop working. 

“You might wanna invest in one of those cart things if you’re gonna be Icarus,” The last thing she needed was for some idiot to try and steal all her things especially around here. There were plenty of idiots around here, pickpocketers too though they usually were targeting tourists. “I just want you to be careful. People can be nuts, even more nuts than me.” And he thought he was really nuts. 

He gave her a nod. He was a lot of things but he usually was kind, he had a somewhat soft demeanor for the people he knew, especially if he saw them struggling. “I don’t trust my neighbors either,” But that’s because he really didn’t trust most people. “You can deliver it to my place, I’d make someone deliver to you.” He never had his shit figured out so he couldn’t really comment on that. 

“For someone who likes anything that food is involved, I hate to admit it but I have not seen an episode of Hell’s Kitchen until you came?” She scrunched her nose in a sheepish look. There were a lot of things she would never had done without Archie. It was easy to say that her life was far less entertaining before she met him. Long story short, she was that kind of boring.

“You’re gonna have to earn it.” She replied, making a kissy face at him but keeping him at arms length. “I missed you too, but I feel it’s a fair punishment.” Nodding to herself for the good judgement — and to tease him. “Plus, I’m trying to not give in to your whims.” Keyword was trying. It was hard to say no to him, but the apartment was another matter.

“Really? Can you?” Her smirk was there but still knowing she’s going to shoot him down did not make it stay on her face for too long. “I’m not going to kick out my room mate! She’s actually very pleasant to be around.” Moving closer to him — arms length be damned — she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can we talk about something else please? Like other than almost getting run over by being a idiot, how was your day?”

"Nah, I know you’re joshing me. Hell’s Kitchen has its own area named after the show around here,” Or at least that’s why he thought the area was named that. “Just because Gordon Ramsay is that good, V.” But at least he was able to get her to watch new shows with him without much of a fuss. 

REN.

TIME: Early afternoon LOCATION: Central Park STATUS: Open

Florence wasn’t someone that most would consider trustworthy — most of the time, she looked after herself and no one else. Somehow, though, her lack of trustworthiness flew out the window when it came to the Cartel, perhaps something to do with the fact that her lack of family had been filled by the Cortázar empire. So, whatever she had to do to ensure said empire kept going strong, she would do it without question. And that included making sure new affiliates knew what they had to lose if they chose to betray Ren’s family. 

That’s why she sat on one of the park’s benches, coffee cup in hand and phone right in front of her. The Underboss held the Starbucks cup up, pretending to be taking a selfie when, in fact, she was taking pictures and a video of a family — the family of the man that had become the latest affiliate. 

Just as she was finished with that round and her phone went down to her chest level instead, Florence felt someone take a seat next to her. “The seat’s taken,” she said, without even taking her eyes off of the family she was surveilling. 

It was finally a nice day out in the city and Archie was going to take full advantage of it. He liked the heat and sunshine more than snow and gloominess. He just knew that this wasn’t going to stay, and soon they’d be back to snow by like Tuesday. 

He has his bagel in one hand and the other hand has his phone, which is what he’s mainly looking at as he sits down. His instinct was to first look and make sure that he wasn’t sitting on anyone. And he wasn’t, of course, "No one’s sitting here.” He stated the obvious, “Unless you have an imaginary friend which I get. I had one named Nick when I was little, he’d follow me all around.” He didn’t mean to sound condescending and in fact hoped he sounded genuine. People of any ages could have imaginary friends. “If you’re gonna take a selfie, it’s even better to take it with the outer camera.” 

IZAAK.

—

It’s hard not to remember where Izaak was a decade ago, new to the city and unaware of all-but a single soul residing in it. He used to go to bars on his own and remain like that, sitting by himself while nursing a scotch and trying to figure out what his next move was. But time changes all things, and now he can’t walk into a single building in Brotherhood territory - or, occasionally, even beyond it - without knowing a person or two. 

So when Archie comes up to him, he greets the other man with a knowing nod. It’s important to him to have a running lexicon for the names of every Brotherhood member, to see them not as pawns to move around but as complex individuals loyal to their joint cause. Archie’s no different. “Don’t be so hard on them, Arch. Surely, wolf reform is coming any day now, the three little pigs have nothing to worry about.” It’s cute, crafting a pig metaphor where the pigs don’t represent the cops for once. “But no, as a matter of fact, you and I were both aware that I already knew that, and I’m out here starving for something I didn’t. You got nothin’ better to earn your keep?” He takes another hit of the joint, an eyebrow raised. 

It was hard for him to not have a personal vendetta against the police after what they did to his father. Though he may’ve been the one doing illegal stuff, he wasn’t the bad guy around here. That was specifically reserved for the police. "You need to read your fairytales again, man. At least two out of the three little pigs die because of the wolf before he’s taken down. I’m sure in some versions, all three die.” He began to shake his leg impatiently, waiting for a hit that didn’t seem to come just yet. “Well yeah, anyone with a brain knows that.” Except for law enforcement themselves probably. “Nothin’ right now. I guess it depends what sorta information you’re looking for. You want some tea or some other info?” He of course could give Isaak a different type of news, maybe an update on his own factory and how ready he was with some new weapons. “But only if you give me a hit first.”

KYAN.

TOBACCO.

LOCATION: Smoke & Mirrors  TIME: 17:34, Late Afternoon, Friday. OPEN: All.

There’s something about the stale aftertaste of tobacco that offers a comfort to Kyan, not for what it does, but for what his being in the shop means. That behind the creaky wooden door in the back is something he’s far more passionate about – Ky doesn’t even smoke that often, a habit hard kicked; the books speaks passages on addiction and whilst he indulges in a little bit of all of it, it’s never out of control. (He likes to believe that, but never considers his addiction to the Brotherhood itself.) It’s got him leant over the front desk, shelves of pouches in every direction, accessories and pipes advertised by handwritten signs; he’s seen them a thousand times now, the front of the gun slinging that serves its purpose without restriction.

Ky’s fiddling with his wallet, more so to look at Sofia’s picture behind the stained once transparent – now translucent pocket, Kahira, by default is in the photograph too, and right beside that, a year old picture of Brick. Has it already been a year? A thumb traces the face, a pang that makes him swallow down his upset and replace it with the festering rage that lives like another kind of comfort in his soul. He’s doing this for them; a justification that overrules all rationality that seems to slip when fanatical takes its place.

The man’s eyes glance up to his brother behind the counter, doesn’t much notice he’s taking up half the customer side of the desk when someone comes in to make a purchase. So he doesn’t shift to give them space – it’s his place really. 

Wallet reluctantly shuts between worn hands, tucks it back into the rear jean pocket and dark eyes close for a moment, recites: No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it. Therefore, my dear friends, flee from idolatry. (Corinthians 10:14-14.) He is the dealer of arms; the hand that provides.

And he knows what he does – the distribution of that what ended both his brother and son is only because it was in the wrong hands.

Kyan gives them to the right ones. And that’s his mantra – the one that stops the hands that wants to curl fingernails into the tobacco shop’s glass counter just to hear it crack.

It’s his weekend tomorrow with Sofia and he’s got the last of the afternoon business to take care of; the cover of pursuing that comes when he asks aloud – mainly to the keeper behind the desk, but also, to the stranger that stands perusing the wares on his left side. Ky rolls his weight onto his elbow, leans lazily on his side to address them. Out comes another passage twisted to a new context: “Bad company corrupts good character, ya know?” Read: Choose quickly friend, because I want an empty store to move merch. “Holborn and Drum are decent, you’re not lookin’ at me like a Pall Mall type, so what’s your likker tellin’ you?”

His eyes had been wandering before being interrupted by Ky’s words, letting Archie immediately responding with a "Huh?” Mainly because he hadn’t registered what Ky was saying. It was a little too deep for him, he was never good at poetry or any of that shit. The road less traveled? He never understood that metaphor either. “I’m pretty good company,” He liked to think he could be entertaining and a good listener which was basically the two requirements for being good company. 

“Oh,” He finally said, realizing what the other man was talking about. “I wanna try something different,” He was indecisive in general. Add in cigarettes and it was a bigger deal than ever for him. “Definitely not Pall Mall. I’m thinking maybe Luckies. I’m feeling a little nostalgic today,” He never stuck to one company, not when he could barely taste the difference anymore. “Or Camel since it’s Hump Day. What do you think?” 

ABBY.

“Hey,” Abby huffed with a laugh, giant canvas bag of art supplies held in front of her like a baby. It was too heavy to loop over her arms without feeling like it’d break one clean off, “thanks for helping me – this’ll teach me never take the subway to the art store.” There was no way she’d have been able to lug all the supplies she’d just bought up the subway steps without help, especially not with the crush of commuters moving in a steady stream in either direction. It was supposed to be a small errand but had turned out to be anything but “small”.

She’d been regretting the winter coat she had on for the past hour, but internally lamented her choice even more now. The humidity in the station causing unruly hair to become increasingly more so as she shoulder her way through the crowd towards the next flight of stairs to break free of the subway station. “Only Uber-sponsored Michael’s runs from here on out.” 

It wasn’t like he was in a rush to get to work, he was the boss so he figured that he could be late whenever he wanted. “Not a problem, just figured it’s better than you leaving a trail of art stuff all the way back to your apartment.” He chuckled, amused at the thought. “It’d be like a modern day Hansel and Gretl sort of thing.” 

AUDRA S. 

.

“You’d be surprised. People are oddly well-behaved around here.” The pretentiousness of the museum tended to bring out everyone’s manners. In some pod-person type of way. “Some of them are actually very nice, but I suppose I talk to them every day. I’m used to them.” Taking the lighter with a mouthed thank-you, she lit her own. “Do you often come here to smoke? It seems an odd choice.”

“I try to be good but I’m just not good at it. Hey, that’s funny, being not good at being good,” He felt like well-behaved meant the exact same thing as good, virtually interchangeable. “My girlfriend’s way better at it than I am.” When she mentioned him smoking here often, or rather asked about it, he shook his head. “Why do you talk to them everyday?” He wasn’t able to stop the nosiness that basically oozed from him. “I mean, I’m usually not in this neck of the woods anyways. But today’s a special exception since I’ve been wanderin’. Not all who wander are lost, you know?” 

VANESSA R. 

“Of course, you managed to turn this into something sexual.” She teased at him, shaking her head. Why is she dating this man again? She couldn’t very well answer — because she’s head over heels with this idiot. Yes, he’s an idiot, but he’s her idiot. “I really don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours Archie. I’m afraid to ask what.”

“Yes it’s working. And I hate you for it.” She really was just an easy girl to please. Food is one of the best ways. “Aw, that’s so sweet. I could kiss you right now but you have to suffer a bit about the whole incident earlier.” Let that simmer on him for a while. Although, knowing Archie, he’s going to find a way around that. He’s pretty damn smart (despite calling him an idiot, there’s a major difference), she’ll give him that.

“I know, I know, I just want to get a rise out of you. I like it when you get your feminist face on. That’s definitely a turn on for me.” Sighing, she softly argued, “You know I have a roommate right? My prime location isn’t cheap. I’m not saying that I don’t want to move in with you, I do. I just… I still like my own space.”

"Not much goes on in it. Work stuff mainly and all the food competition shows. Have you seen this season of Hell’s Kitchen? It’s so good,” She definitely had more of the brains in their relationship, but he always found himself to be pretty entertaining. 

He didn’t want to wait for a kiss so instead he did his best pouty lips, “You’re gonna make me wait? Really? How can you resist this face?” He asked as he motioned towards his smug mug. “I’ve missed you all day.” 

“I can be quiet,” He knew that he wasn’t going to win this conversation but he figured he should try. And he knew he was being pushy with the subject but he just couldn’t help it. He really liked her and just wanted to be with her as much as possible. “And you know I could replace your roommate that way we could have our own spaces.” It was fruitless talking about this, it was but he wanted to show her just how serious he was when it came to her. 

VANESSA R.

Vanessa had to literally stop herself from rolling her eyes. Pressing fingers into her eyelids in exasperation, she gave him a look — the look — of annoyance. “It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you looked both ways.” She pointed out, pretending to be annoyed but she knew it wasn’t working. Damn this idiot. “Yeah, you should just go get me, I’ll sort him out.” Snorting, she leaned against the counter. “Can you imagine calling me every time you get into trouble? I better get paid more than my actual job.”

“Is that why you cooked my favorite for me? So that I wouldn’t be annoyed?” She gave a brief pause before nodding because it was working. She had to hand it to him — everyone thinks she’s hard to read, but here comes Archie who reads her like an open book. Or maybe that she just really loves food. Her good mood was going until he had to bring it up. Them moving together. Not that she didn’t want to (sort of) but a girl needs her space. That and her current cases were all over her apartment. Work wasn’t supposed to be brought home, but work never really stops especially for her.

“We’ve talked about this. You get to keep your mancave and I have my own. Also that way if I ever need to get away from you, I can just hide in my cozy corner and ignore your calls —” Which has never happened during the entirety of their relationship because she was too worried that he might get himself killed. “— plus, PLUS! I get prime location, I have a lovely view and it’s just near work. I’m always going to be late if I come from here. Like the last time?”

He could’ve looked both ways, sure but he just assumed that the car would’ve stopped for him. It was a bad mentality to have but hey, everyone had their flaws. “I’d put you on my payroll if you did that,” He reassured, “And I think you’re way scarier than me. You probably would’ve scared off that guy. And I would’ve been turned on while you did it.” 

He looked at the food before looking back at her with a sly smirk on his face. "Is it working?” He sure as hell hoped it was, figuring that his meatballs were to die for. That had to count for something. “And because you’re my girlfriend and you deserve it.” He really did like making her happy. Though he still couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to live with him. 

“It’s not even a man cave. That’s some misogynistic bullshit guys made up years ago to keep their wives out of a room,” He believed it was all bullshit. “I could move in with you then. Problem solving, V.” He said as he tapped his finger against his temple. “I could afford being late and I bet you there’s even less people trying to run over jaywalkers near you.” 

AUDRA S.

.

Perhaps she had overreacted; the public were certainly allowed to be here. They just often - weren’t. Her left hand smoothed down her coat, flapping up against the wind, and she shook her head. “No- sorry. You look fine. I’m sorry for scaring you.” Her eyes tracked to a sign behind him, slightly obscured by a tree. “It’s actually- not allowed. But I’m going to rat you out, don’t worry.” Around the corner was a slightly safer smoking spot, however. “If you go behind the arch, though, you’re less likely to get caught.” She slipped a packet of her own out of her pocket and held it up. “Would I be able to borrow a light?”

"I feel like they have better things to worry about than me smoking, right?” It was the MET after all. He wasn’t sue what went on here considering that he wasn’t just casually ever invited to a place like this. It was very Gossip Girl-esque if anything. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” If he ever really found himself around here again. “Sure, I gotchu. I appreciate you not going to tell those security guys. They seem kind of scary. I feel like they’d have no problem banning me from this place.” 

JACOB B. 

location: any neutralish/public location  open to: all

“Nothing to see here –– really,” Jacob sighed, raking a hand through unruly hair as he remembered just why he avoided socializing on Saturdays. Someone always had to drink too much and he couldn’t just ignore it. Well..he could but would he, even if he was off duty? Absolutely fucking not. So when two drunken asshole’s debate turned into a full on fistfight, Jacob took it as his cue to step in, along with another officer who happened to be there. 

Once both were taken care of (see, escorted out), he went to the table that had been tipped over in the scuffle and reached down to set it right again. “You’d think people wouldn’t care so fucking much about shit like that but? I guess that’s too much to ask for?” Said to no one in particular, tone dryer than toast as he went to pick up some chairs too. 

Archie was in the middle of his smoke when all of this was going down. His eyes shifted towards the commotion, curious as to what was happening. He was nosy, always had been and always will be so naturally he moved towards the other man. 

VANESSA R. 

“First of all, don’t text me like that. I thought something wrong happened. Like really wrong.” She chastised him. Not too much, but enough for her to put her hands on her hips. “Second, both of you are idiots. You didn’t look both ways, as you admitted, and he could seriously run you over or worst come out of his car and punch you dead.”

But of course it wasn’t just her boyfriends fault, not that she’d let him off the hook just yet. “I’m just glad it didn’t escalate. Are those meatballs?” She finally asked him after all that, taking in the scent of the food in his kitchen.

“You know, you’re hot when you’re scolding me,” He reminded her, a smirk appearing on his face. "But something did happen,” He reminded her, “I almost got run over. Or well, I was close to it happening. Would you really want that to happen?” It was more of a rhetorical question, knowing her answer to that. “I could totally defend myself, I think. Or I’d tell him that I’m gonna get my girlfriend. You’re way scarier than me.” 

He gave her a nod, "Yes ma’am. Only the best for you. I figured if I was going to make you come over here all the sudden, the least I could do is cook for you. I got the pasta going too.” He pointed to the other pot on the stove. “You could have my meals every single night if we lived together.” 

IZAAK W.

location: SKYHIGH HOOKAH

for: OPEN

It’s rare that Izaak has time off. Nobody tells you just how fucking bureaucratic running a gang can be, and so it’s not uncommon that he spends most nights leading meetings, making long phone calls, obsessiving over what comes next and how to get there. Even nights out aren’t necessarily nights off, but probably attempts at rubbing elbows with the right people - donors or possible recruits or a winning combination of the two. But tonight he’s taking a break, an actual break, telling everyone who matters that he’s claiming his reparations in the form of a night off and that they better not to contact him with Brotherhood business unless something’s on fire (if it’s something that isn’t supposed to be on fire).

He reclines now in a sofa at Skyhigh, a quiet thrill in him at the fact that this is Brotherhood territory, his territory, and that no man or god can touch him here. He’s never been much of a hookah man, so he holds a joint in his hand instead, content to sit quietly on his own and take careful puffs while he thumbs through a pamphlet he ironically got handed on the subway by an officer. ‘POLICE REFORM COMING IN 2021′ is its theme, an oxymoron that’s enough to put the outline of a smug smirk on Izaak’s lips. He’s interrupted only when he feels a presence hovering around him, and he puts the leaflet to the side to look up. “What, you want a hit?” he asks. “Have at it.” Izaak extends the joint up to his new conversation partner, only to double back right as it’s about to make its way into their fingers. “I don’t buy that ‘no free lunch’ bullshit, but humor me,” he continues with a grin. “Tell me something I don’t know and I’ll light you up.”

Archie is only recreational about his drug use; weed and hookah are probably the onlny things he’ll do. He tried juuling once but it just...didn’t feel right for him. So it wasn’t like he came to Skyhigh too often but he was there every once in a while. 

He made his way over towards the boss, his nosiness getting to the better of him. After Izaak took back the joint, without letting him get a hit, his eyes immediately drifted towards the pamphlet that Izaak put down. The big bold letters made him immediately flinch. Police reform? As if there’d ever be such a thing around here. He had been waiting for it for virtually twenty years. “That flyer’s bullshit,” He figured Izaak already knew that. “That’s what most people don’t know.” He figured anyone in or affiliated The Brotherhood knew better. “Who gave that to you? You should’ve punched that sucker when you had the chance.”