★ h o u n d ★

“Good people, honestly. They’re all quality. Absolutely insane, of course; the NYPD is full of people who are wild as hell. But that’s what makes them good at their jobs, I think. You gotta be a little nuts to do what we do. And obviously I love Christian, man, he’s my brother from another mother.”

@christianvbennet

EVENT #1: A Star is Born

RAFAEL CORDOVA attending the 19th birthday celebrations of Miss Bunny Golightly

“God, drop the miss.” Claire said with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms firmly over her chest. Her relationship with Detective Rafael Cordova – who she only ever called Cordova – had always been tense, even while he was her father’s partner. She had a bad habit of getting on his nerves, calling him out during bullshit press conferences and making it a personal mission to be the first at any number of his crime scenes in order to get the scoop on what was going on and what he wasn’t being honest about. “Oh, yeah. They’ll love it. NYPD Tells New York to “Chill Out” While Their Families Are Being Murdered. Has a much better ring to it, considering that’s exactly what’s been going on for the last decade.”

She leaned forward and planted her hands on his desk, a serious try me expression crossing her face. “I want you to release the Adair reports. You’re beating around the bush – that whole family was wiped out by the Italians and you’ve done nothing. And you’re calling it an accident!”

Ah, what day would be complete without Claire Ortega storming into his office and demanding he single-handedly fix all of New York’s crime problems. Raf sighed again and sat back in his chair. “Alright, Claire, if that’s the spin you want to put on it. Don’t say I didn’t offer to help.” By this point in their relationship, he was used to her fire, the burning passion that she held for telling the truth. More like screaming the truth from the rooftops, something that she didn’t realize (or seemingly didn’t care) could be just as dangerous as the cover-ups she thought were the modus operandi of the NYPD.

“You know, it’s actually kind of funny,” he said, unfazed by her glare as he rubbed a hand over his face and the stubble that was starting to grow on his chin. He hadn’t had the energy to shave in a couple days, but who could blame him? “We were just  talking about that a little bit ago, before Christian left to get coffee. We’d really like to release the Adair files, too. But the DA won’t give them back to us. He’s hung up on something and according to the brass, it’s above our paygrade to know what.” He looked up at her, a faint smile still playing on his lips. “I’m telling you this because if you’re half the journalist you claim to be, you already know all this. I’m just a detective, Claire; if the DA says the files are still part of a classified investigation, my hands are tied. So most likely you came here to blow of steam and try to bully me into saying something you want to hear. Am I right?”

“So that’s why you never get anything done, Cordova. Can I quote you on that?” Claire’s eyebrow arched upward, her arms crossing over her chest. This particular scene was one that had become something of a habit – Rafael with his head in her hands, and her arms crossed just so. “The way to stop the current gang epidemic is to chill out?”

Raf sighed. Hard. How many times were they going to do this dance, this back and forth where he was always her personal punching bag? He lifted his head and mustered up a smile for the reporter, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “As a matter of fact, Miss Ortega, you can. Great headline there, ‘Local Detective Tells New Yorkers to Chill Out’. I’m sure people will find that hilarious. You’re welcome.” If he didn’t have his sense of humor, what else would he have? “You just here for my journalistic advice, or did you actually have a purpose beyond pulling me away from my reports?”

“I do actually, yeah. It’s just a plain black mug that used to by my mom’s. She sent me with it as a housewarming present when I moved out. Real sweet of her. Tell ya what, it’s definitely blessed, ‘cause anything you put in it tastes a helluva lot better than if you put it in any other mug. I use it every day at work.”

“I just have one request. Not a big one, honestly, really small. Tiny.” Rafael sighed and leaned heavily on his desk, face buried in his hands for a moment’s relief from the typhoon of a woman bearing down on him. “Can people just… calm down? For like one day, that’s all, just chill out and go about their days and not bother me while I’m trying to work.”