𝔴𝔬𝔪𝔟 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔟

"Yeah sure, I'm only gonna have ta care for a kid for eighteen damn years. Easy as hell. Fuck off, Riff, fuck off. You's full of shit, an' it ain't your business what I do, not when I ain't workin'." He turned back around, frustrated, storming off, letting the door slam behind him, walking away, going home, up to his shitty apartment, that no doubt could be better, but rent was one thing he hated spending money on.

He didn't bother to grab a glass, only a bottle, making his way to his couch. "Good job, now ya fuckin' did it, didn't ya?" He sighed, opened the bottle, taking a swig of the contents. It was far from a good idea to drink alone like this, let alone drink straight from the bottle, unmixed, but he'd made worse choices in his life. He suspected Riff would be by either way, not that he really wanted him to.

Riff finished his day at the garage as he usually did, he always made sure to actually put in the time to keep appearances up that it was just a garage and not a money laundering factory. He clocked out and checked his watch, it had been a good few hours since Mouthpiece had left to go get shitfaced, so Riff thought he should probably check on him; just to make sure his fellow Jet wasn't dead from alcohol poisoning, or had choked on his own vomit. There was worry there, despite all the piss Riff had taken out of him.

He drove to Mouthpiece's place and was surprised he was still living in the same area. Riff got the fuck outta that part of town as soon as possible. The rent was decent, but that's because a murder probably happened in the place you lived.

He banged on the door and got no answer, he waited, banged again, still nothing. He sent Mouthpiece a text, and then a bit later sent him an annoyed voicemail to answer the fucking door. Still nothing.

"Goddamnit," Riff muttered and got out his wallet, pulling out a credit card and went to work on sliding into Mouthpiece's door, which was very poorly secured. Luckily, it worked, and Riff wasn't resorted to kicking his door down.

The place was dark, it smelled like smokes, weed, and alcohol. "Yo! Dumbass, ya still with the livin' or what?" Riff called out and made his way to the living room, tripping over some trash and whatever else on his way.

“I suppose that we will find out together then,” She softly mused. A pit began to settle in her stomach, partially due to his presence but mostly due to the untimely situation. For a woman oft prepared for almost everything, this was a scenario that had been overlooked.

A nod was offered in silent agreement, unsure of what to say or to do. Someone was bound to notice the broken system or to ponder their absences at some point. However, there was no guarantee that it would be soon.

Tiny beads of sweat were already forming on Riff's forehead. Already the space was too warm and too small. He swallowed and cleared his throat, pushing whatever nervous thoughts he might be having away. He wasn't about to show any kind of weakness, especially not in front of her. Even if the confined space did remind him of being locked in a closet in his foster home after a rough beating. Riff took off his jacket and tossed it on the floor.

"Yeah, that's good." He said absently, still looking at the door and sliding his fingers along the gaps to see any kid of give or opening. "Business as usual fer me. Same shit, different day."

"What kind'a dances are these called, hoe-downs? I don't remember no kissin' being involved the other times I seen ya prance around." It was hard to describe how he felt seeing her kiss the guy on stage, other than rage and jealousy. He didn't wish to examine it further. What had tumbled out of his mouth about her being his, hadn't exactly been thought out, as usual. He just blurted it out off the rip when he laid eyes on her after the show.

"Now, see? Yer addin' on, you got pissy with me flirtin' with other people, I didn't kiss no one, no one but you." Why he felt the need to clear that up he also didn't know. He'd already pushed her away and broken up with her, why it mattered now whether or not she thought he'd cheated shouldn't matter, but it did.

Why the hell did he even come to see her show anyway?

"No girl with common sense would let ya come near a kid, Riff. Hell, ya think I oughta be let near a kid? Trusted with one? I ain't knowin' the first thing 'bout kid care. Honestly, it fuckin' scares me that I apperantly got like... five months to learn how, an' I doubt the internet is an accurate resource."

It terrified him, the thought of having to care for someone else, someone who was depending on him to do it.

"I can barely keep myself alive, dude, like, I live on microwaved food and instant noodles. Takeout. I can't fuckin' cook. Don't get me started on laundry, because that shit is a mystery to me. Throw shit together in there, hope for the best."

It wouldn't really work that way with a kid, he knew as much.

"Oh I need money alright. I'm fuckin' screwed with the extra costs raisin' a kid will cost. Do ya have any idea how expensive that is?"

He rambled a little, and he knew it, closed his eyes and swallowed.

"She waited this long to tell ya? Damn, I thought this was a new thing and her gettin' rid of it might be an option. Ya really are fucked, huh? Well, I guess she's tha one who got fucked." Riff ignored the comment about him being a punching bag, this had all happened because he instigated and allowed it, anyone else would have gotten a bullet for a swing at him, much less a hit.

Riff listened to his friend and fellow Jet ramble with a raised brow. "I get it, yer no housewife, cry me a fuckin' river. She didn't ask you ta be her hubby or nothin', right? Yer gettin' off easy."

Riff shook his head again and rubbed his finger and thumb together. "Ya know what this is? It's the world's smallest man playing my heart bleeds for ya on a tiny violin. You're being a whiny little bitch. And if yer lookin' to choke...like I said..."

He didn't follow, Mouthpiece was far too pissy and upset to be dealing with Riff's taunting, and that was no fun. But he did make a mental note to check on him later. He didn't want his friend/occasional antagonist to actually drink himself to death, or whatever else he was planning on consuming.

"Don't do anythin' I wouldn't do, daddy-o."

Being stuck in an elevator was an unfortunate predicament. However, a bad situation was made worse by the fact that Angélique was confined to these close quarters with him of all people.

Although Riff had left her heartbroken, a part of her was hopelessly devoted to him and still in love with him. Wishing only wounds the heart, so she refrained from visiting his so-called turf. In the meanwhile, she had danced with others. Though, it had all been rather casual and never broaching into the world of romantic. No one would ever fall in love with her, for even he had rejected her after her declaration.

Helplessly watching on, she lightly shook her head from the opposite side of the chamber. “I'm not claustrophobic, are you?”

"Dunno," He shrugged, "I hope not, ain't ever been trapped like a rat before." It was an honest answer, but he was already feeling very aggravated and antsy. The odds of Ange being the current company here didn't help much. Not because he didn't care for her, but because of the circumstances.

"Looks like were fucked 'til someone comes n' gets us." He leaned against the opposite wall after his attempts at pressing buttons didn't help. Hopefully the service light would get someone's attention sooner rather then later.

"I dunno how ta make small talk in this situation....how ya been?"

“Thank you.” Her words were soft as she spoke. Olivia had a team at work that had her backed but someone like Riff that didn’t do it because of job related duties hit more deeply for her. She didn’t exactly have many people outside the job she could depend on to show up for her like he had. “Whatever happens, it’s fine.” She could only imagine this relationship wouldn’t go over well with commanding officers above her. Regardless, she wasn’t about to end things with Riff to keep it from happening.

As he offered his room she sighed. “You don’t have to do all that.” She didn’t want him to put him out more than she had already tonight.

Olivia reached over for his hand, more on instinct than rational thought, as he drove them back to his place. The way she felt about Riff had deepened the longer they had known one another. She wasn’t sure she could change that night.

"Just tell your cop friends it ain't true, who they gonna believe? Some word on tha street from some gang, or you? It's none of their business who ya fuck anyway, is it?" Because realistically, all they'd been doing is fucking, there were no deep talks or dates, not really any romance to speak of. And Riff had put it out of his mind whether or not he wanted to go there. Whether or not that would be good for either of them. And he had no idea where this left them tonight.

"Ya don't gotta keep thankin' me, Liv, once was more'n enough. I'm doin' what I think is right, and that's all. I wasn't just gonna sit on my ass and let this go down. A pack'a animals like them would do god knows what to a woman n' her kid. I can't have that. Especially not to someone I know."

The idea of the gang hurting Liv made Riff tighten his grip on the wheel a little more. It wasn't hard to get him mad, but this was way over the top.

"I sleep on tha damn couch most nights anyway, when I can't sleep at all. No big deal." He shrugged, not daring to look over at her and kept his eyes on the road. "Yeah well, yer wit me, so don't worry about it. Life's too short fer what ifs. I was there, I am here, that's what matters. Now stop sayin' thank you before I change my fuckin' mind n' throw you out."

He gave her a side-eye with a small smirk.

"You better. Wouldn't kill ya to care a bit, ya know. Care a bit 'bout your guys." He spat out the last word, glared at Riff, wiped his hands on his jeans, his anger less for now, just flipping Riff off, rolled his eyes.

"Listen, I've takin' plenty'a punches, and you've been witness to a lot of em. I can take it, ya punch like a fuckin' girl anyway." Riff smirked, "See? I can help, so don't be such a fuckin' grouch."

Riff rolled his eyes again, at this rate they were going to get stuck into position with Mouthpiece around. "Did I not just say that if ya were ta have a kid ya wouldn't be in it alone? How's that for not carin'?" And he'd meant that, even if it seemed like something Mouthpiece wanted no part of.

"I mean if ya need money, I'll work something out for ya. I wouldn't call it a raise as I don't give ya salary, but work isn't in short supply." Riff shrugged, "No, I don't need ya, especially since yer so uptight about blowin' me." He smiled again, "Do ya need me, or are ya gonna be lonesome tonight?"

Mike Faist as dodge mason