Riff

"We're kinda past that stage, long past. It's stayin'. Expected ta arrive within... I think she said a few weeks? Months? I don't know, I think weeks, but I kinda didn't process nothin' past the 'It's your kid' part, 'cause that ain't nothin' I wanna hear at midnight, but yeah there's apperantly gonna be a little kid in my future."

"I will rub it in, actually, ya horny idiot. Lettin' ya prick get ahead of yer brain again." Riff shook his head, teasing Mouthpiece as if he were a disappointed father. Then he took out his smokes from the front pocket of his coveralls. "Here, have a smoke, I don't have any cigars fer ya."

"Weeks?" Riff raised his brows as he sparked up their smokes. "She didn't waste'a minute tellin' ya then. Who is this broad anyway?" Riff hoped to God it wasn't someone he'd also slept with along the way. "Why's she wait so long, and are you sure it's yours? How can ya be?"

He shrugged, "Anyway, if ya want some extra cash real fast you can do me some personal favours, startin' with washin' my ride."

He paused, thinking back, quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful, concentrated, doing the math in his head. "She said sixteen weeks along, not weeks away. What the point of using weeks is, hell if I know. It.. does add up. Don't suppose ya could arrange for a one way ticket to... I dunno, far away from here? Yeah, obviously I ain't sure, it's a little hard to tell from the picture, but she claims that's how things is, an' I ain't got no reason to doubt it."

He stared at the desk, avoiding to answer that question as to who this was, which likely would make nothing better and just make the whole situation worse.

"Does that matter? It ain't makin' much difference is it?

He stood up, lingered in the doorway, took a deep drag of the cigarette, let smoke fill his lungs before exhaling, slowly, and almost calmly.

"Why do ya care? Gonna send her a congratulations card? It ain't like it matters. Done's done, an' shit happens. Might be someone ya know, might not, I ain't tellin'."

Angélique Leclair existed in the liminal. Her ability to move between worlds could be concerning to the some. Though Doc's Drugstore allowed to simply be, without fear for a brief moment in time. Acutely aware of how she was perceived for being Asian first and then human. That was if people even did recognize her humanity. The world was unkind to her, though she desperately wanted to remain soft in spite of it all. Perhaps, it was naive of her. However, she would always try to treat others how she would like to be treated.

That tender ideal of hers led to this moment. “You'll have to sit still if you want this to hurt less, darling.” Her voice was soft but stern, the nickname tumbled easily from her lips. Nimble fingers went through the first aid kit, pulling out supplies as her brow was furrowed deep in concentration.

"Can do it myself. Don't need your help." He pulled away, stood up as she was digging through the first aid kit. This wasn't exactly new, rumbles happened, people got hurt, that was really how the life was, it was something Mouthpiece knew all too well.

It wasn't even the worst injury he'd ever had, it'd scab over, heal up, leave yet another scar, not that he cared, not at all.

"Heard it, but ya know... ya forget. Glad ya find my failures funny. Ya gonna help or not?" He sat fidgetting with his cap, let out a sigh.

"Of course I find it funny, of all people ta become a papa I didn't expect you ta be first. Even wit all my mistakes I never managed that big of a fuck up." Riff didn't see any of The Jets as father material, if he was being completely honest. They were a street gang, criminals, hell, they were drug traffickers.

"She wants the to keep tha baby? Or is the money for the ol' coat hanger operation?" Very crude, but it was a valid question. "I guess if ya need tha raise it means there's a lil' Mouthpiece in tha future, yeah?"

Riff thought about it and tilted his head. "Yeah, I can do that, you've been good lately. But a raise means ya might find yerrself in more serious business with me, are you prepared fer that?"

"We're kinda past that stage, long past. It's stayin'. Expected ta arrive within... I think she said a few weeks? Months? I don't know, I think weeks, but I kinda didn't process nothin' past the 'It's your kid' part, 'cause that ain't nothin' I wanna hear at midnight, but yeah there's apperantly gonna be a little kid in my future."

"It ain't our usual kinda trouble, and I can explain, but.." He shifted a little in his seat, uncomfortable with the situation, and the mess that this absolutely was.

"I need the money 'cause, and this is tha honest damn truth, far as I know. Ya know sometimes, ya ain't quite as careful as ya oughta be, an' the consequences happen? The consequences did, if ya get what I mean by that." He fixed his eyes on the desk in front of him.

Riff wasn't much of a laugher, he rarely had a real sense of humour, and when he did it was limited to a smirk, and sometimes rather beautiful smile, but this? This got him laughing, hard.

"Yer fucking kiddin' me?!" He smacked the desk. "Ever heard the expression don't be silly, wrap ya willy?" He could hardly believe what he was hearing, Mouthpiece still had a babyface himself, now he was having a baby?

"Is this congrats on a kid that's already walkin' among us, or is she just knocked up?"

"Heard it, but ya know... ya forget. Glad ya find my failures funny. Ya gonna help or not?" He sat fidgetting with his cap, let out a sigh.

"I need tha money. Ya know I wouldn't ask if I ain't needed it." He stated, looking Riff in the eye, trying to act calmer than he felt.

"It ain't gonna be more than a few days! Two, if that. Ya can manage that. I'm gonna sort this out an' be right back."

"Ya didn't ask." Riff reminded, "Ya barged in here like ya owned tha place n' demanded that me, yer boss, give ya time off and a raise." Riff leaned back in his office chair, his mind escaped from whatever he was doing previous to the interruption. "That's not even how normal business works, let alone this one, ya jackass."

He made a motion with his hand for Mouthpiece to take a seat across from him. "What's got ya panties all in bunch all of a sudden? Whattya need the time and money for? And don't fuckin' lie ta me."

"It ain't our usual kinda trouble, and I can explain, but.." He shifted a little in his seat, uncomfortable with the situation, and the mess that this absolutely was.

"I need the money 'cause, and this is tha honest damn truth, far as I know. Ya know sometimes, ya ain't quite as careful as ya oughta be, an' the consequences happen? The consequences did, if ya get what I mean by that." He fixed his eyes on the desk in front of him.

"I'm gonna get straight to the point. One, I need a raise, and two, I need a few days off, right now."

( @setwithacapitalj)

Riff gave his friend and employee an incredulous look. "And who tha fuck do ya think you are?" He furrowed his brow, annoyed. "Waltzin' in here and makin' demands, ya gotta death wish? I'll raise my foot in yer ass." // @setwithacapitalj

"I need tha money. Ya know I wouldn't ask if I ain't needed it." He stated, looking Riff in the eye, trying to act calmer than he felt.

"It ain't gonna be more than a few days! Two, if that. Ya can manage that. I'm gonna sort this out an' be right back."

"Time, place, and how long are we stayin'? You bringin' me for muscle or to talk?" There was a difference there, and Mouthpiece knew as much, and it also made a difference in how he'd act towards any situation that might happen.

"Fer muscle. No offence but I wouldn't exactly just ya to negotiate with any cartel members." Even Riff taking this on was dangerous, he didn't want anyone else to be blamed if shit went south.

"We leave Friday night, midnight, from a privately owned hanger." As to whether the trip was purely business or not, Riff smirked. "Do I look like a man that would go south of tha boarder and not take advantage of all the fun? I love the senoritas as much as the next fella."

"Got ya. Friday, midnight." The look on Riff's face told him everything he needed to know, in terms of it not being strictly business.

"Uh-huh. The senoritas. Ya fancy a mexican senorita, huh?" There was a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice, and some surprise he failed to keep away.

"The senoritas I bet are real nice. Wouldn't mind goin' to see some. When business is done." The business aspect was clearly supposed to be priority, and Mouthpiece understood as much, loud and clear, although the aspect of fun was also a bit more tempting.

"Ya still gonna keep me under control there, or we gonna have fun?" He asked, calmly, awaiting the answer.

"That, ain't no thanks to New York traffic." He continued, reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, leaning back only after reaching for the lighter, grabbed it to light a cigarette of his own, sat up straight a moment after, wiping off his hands with a rag, looking Riff in the eyes.

"What of it? We playin' debt collectors?" That was the fun part of working for Riff. He smirked a little, excitement clear on his face.

"Then why the fuck did ya ask me to set him straight? Like I didn't have enough to do?" Riff gave him an annoyed look, then shook his head. "Whatever, I've got other things ta fuckin' worry about."

Mouthpiece was always good muscle, that was for sure. Even if he submitted to Riff and took a beating, that didn't mean he did it for anyone else. And Riff did not want to dive into the psychology of why that was.

"Time, place, and how long are we stayin'? You bringin' me for muscle or to talk?" There was a difference there, and Mouthpiece knew as much, and it also made a difference in how he'd act towards any situation that might happen.

"Ya have fun with that. Landlord's an ass. Tell him somethin's off with the hot water supply and he says they're waiting for some spare part that they probably ordered from fuckin' Neptune at this point." He rolled his eyes, going back to the dishes.

"So, I'm gonna borrow your shower, if you ain't got a problem with that." He stated, just as Riff got up to leave.

Riff did stop to see the landlord, and he was an ass as Mouthpiece had predicted, but lucky for everyone involved, Riff was an even bigger ass. There was nothing wrong with a landlord that dangling him over the side of a balcony ten stories up wouldn't fix. Riff didn't do the physical labour, of course, he brought Balkan along for that.

But that wasn't even his main concern for the day, he had bigger fish to fry and when his errands were done he made his way back to the garage and up to his office.

"Well, Saints fuckin' preserve us," He said and pulled out a smoke, "Ya actually did as you were told. That's a good start." He went to his desk and sat down. "I talked to that fuckin' scum lord, ya should see an improvement in living sooner rather than later."

"That, ain't no thanks to New York traffic." He continued, reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, leaning back only after reaching for the lighter, grabbed it to light a cigarette of his own, sat up straight a moment after, wiping off his hands with a rag, looking Riff in the eyes.

"What of it? We playin' debt collectors?" That was the fun part of working for Riff. He smirked a little, excitement clear on his face.

It had, originally, not been a planned thing, and the house had been chosen at random. He let out a sigh, stretched, pushed the emptied plate away, forcing the initial shock on his face away with it.

"Thanks. Ya won't regret it, promise." He shifted a bit in his seat, then nodded, taking a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, looking a little bothered.

"My rent kinda went up, and no one's gonna pay better than ya do. I need the money, man. I'm goin' right there. Cleanin' this up first, of course. Ya want the dishes done?"

What Mouthpiece left out was most of his personal life, but decided it was best to keep all that to himself for now.

Mouthpiece had gone from being disagreeable to being obedient awfully fuckin' fast. Riff thought that he should have scared the shit outta him before now, it would have saved him a lot of headache.

Riff pulled out a smoke as he watched his friend begin to tidy up, a sight he thought he'd never see. "Sure, do tha dishes, it'll keep ya busy until ya go to work."

He stood from the table, cigarette hanging off his lip. "I'll make sure yer rent gets paid, don't I always? Not much point in all I'm tryna build here if we can't even do that."

"I'll meet ya in my office above tha garage in an hour. Be there, Mouth, or I swear ta God..."

"Ya have fun with that. Landlord's an ass. Tell him somethin's off with the hot water supply and he says they're waiting for some spare part that they probably ordered from fuckin' Neptune at this point." He rolled his eyes, going back to the dishes.

"So, I'm gonna borrow your shower, if you ain't got a problem with that." He stated, just as Riff got up to leave.

"I ain't lookin' to argue, an' shit happens." He poured some sauce on his own eggs, started eating, then looked up, almost dropping the fork.

"You ain't serious. I... I'm gonna do better. I ain't no liability, and I ain't weak. I ain't told 'em nothin', an' ain't I been loyal for years? Even after Tony. I ain't gonna cross ya again."

Riff knew that those words were bound to get Mouthpiece's attention. He could see the shock on the other young man's face. "Things aren't like they was when Tony was here, it's different now. We're in fuckin' deep, the big time, and I can't have someone like you gettin' goddamn pinched for stupid shit."

Whether Riff would actually do anything to Mouthpiece, he was on the fence about, right now he was mostly pissed off and irritated with the back chat. They were friends after all, had known each other since they were boys. But Riff had had just about enough of the other Jets not taking him seriously. They all had to grow up.

"Alright, I'm not cold-hearted, I'll give ya another chance to prove yerself. After breakfast go to the garage and wait for me there, I've got somethin' to clue you in on. It's a good time for you to earn yer place if ya think you've got the balls."

It had, originally, not been a planned thing, and the house had been chosen at random. He let out a sigh, stretched, pushed the emptied plate away, forcing the initial shock on his face away with it.

"Thanks. Ya won't regret it, promise." He shifted a bit in his seat, then nodded, taking a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, looking a little bothered.

"My rent kinda went up, and no one's gonna pay better than ya do. I need the money, man. I'm goin' right there. Cleanin' this up first, of course. Ya want the dishes done?"

What Mouthpiece left out was most of his personal life, but decided it was best to keep all that to himself for now.

"Scrambled is good." He still kept his eyes down, not wanting to be on the recieving end of Riff's temper again.

Part of him felt a little restless, trying not to think about last night, and that he was technically not released yet, but the hangover and the bruised eye, along with the pain in his ribs gave him other things to think about. The 'thump' of the sauce bottle made him jump, startled and pulled him from his thoughts.

"No, we ain't. I wanna... explain. Wasn't tryin' to piss you off, honest. I was just looking for a way to blow off steam, or forget what happened, 'cause it's stressing me the fuck out, which is kinda making sense to me. I get it, you're fixing this, all that, I get that shit, but, let me tell you, this is stressful." It occupied his thoughts around the clock.

"You can get drunk here, not out in'a bar, which yer not 'sposed ta be doin' even if ya weren't in my custody." Riff put a bottle of orange juice on the table before he sat down to his own plate. "I can't fuckin' argue about this shit again." He stabbed at his eggs in an irritated manner.

"Of course it's fuckin' stressful, ya think yer the first Jet to ever get nabbed or charged?" Riff shook his head, "This life, it's not fer everyone, once this is over, we gonna have to find you some legit work. I can't have you as a liability."

He poured some juice and took a sip. "Yer weak. Any time inside will have you broken n' signing like a fuckin' bird. I can't have that. Because if that shit happens, I'll have ta take care you. And I will, I'll make last night look like walk in the fuckin' park if ya cross me again. I'm done fuckin' around wit you. Ya might not respect me enough to listen to orders, but you'll fear me enough to."

"I ain't lookin' to argue, an' shit happens." He poured some sauce on his own eggs, started eating, then looked up, almost dropping the fork.

"You ain't serious. I... I'm gonna do better. I ain't no liability, and I ain't weak. I ain't told 'em nothin', an' ain't I been loyal for years? Even after Tony. I ain't gonna cross ya again."

"Mornin'." He replied, looked up, surprised by the sudden mood change, but didn't really let it show.

"Scrambled. Or fried." He said, took a seat, moving just a little slower than usual. "Other than that, coffee. Hot sauce for the eggs. That's kinda it."

His mind was on the night before, the argument, and he didn't really like the whole situation, didn't like being cooped up here.

Riff had to fight the urge to wince when he saw Mouthpiece's swollen eye. He hadn't meant to do all that. Well, maybe in the moment he did, but that was his temper, he now felt guilty, that he'd taken things too far as usual. He wasn't used to seeing the aftermath of his violence, and found that he didn't care for it very much.

"I can do scrambled." He replied, and cracked a couple more eggs in the pan.

"I just need ya to come into work at the garage like usual. That's where I'll be most of the day. I'll let ya know if anythin' comes up more important than that."

He went to the cupboard and got a bottle of sauce down, laying it on the table with a 'thump.'

"Scrambled is good." He still kept his eyes down, not wanting to be on the recieving end of Riff's temper again.

Part of him felt a little restless, trying not to think about last night, and that he was technically not released yet, but the hangover and the bruised eye, along with the pain in his ribs gave him other things to think about. The 'thump' of the sauce bottle made him jump, startled and pulled him from his thoughts.

"No, we ain't. I wanna... explain. Wasn't tryin' to piss you off, honest. I was just looking for a way to blow off steam, or forget what happened, 'cause it's stressing me the fuck out, which is kinda making sense to me. I get it, you're fixing this, all that, I get that shit, but, let me tell you, this is stressful." It occupied his thoughts around the clock.

"I don't like it no more than ya do, but I thought this was coming from ya. Ya know how it is, someone says we go, I go. Didn't tell me nothin' and when the alarm went off, they kinda bolted. I was slower."

That moment Riff spoke of was one that Mouthpiece could remember vividly, Valentina stopping them most of all.

"I ain't done that. I ain't gotta be in no hospital."

He'd keep his head down, or at least try to.

"Got it. Yeah. Got it."

He pushed himself up, winced a bit as he did, the pain in his ribs would definitely serve as a good reminder to not cross Riff again, along with the black eye he would get.

He laid on the couch, shifted a bit, would stay put.

It's not that Riff didn't feel guilty for his violent outbursts, he did, but it was an emotion he could not let show. If you let the people under you even get a hint that you were unsteady or weak, it would be the beginning of the end for your leadership. Riff knew that much, it's why Tony had been such a piss poor gang leader, his heart was on his sleeve, and it did nothing but get his former best friend killed. Riff wasn't about to let that happen to him.

Mouthpiece had been stupid, heedless, and naive. It was time for him to grow up and be a solider.

The next morning, Riff was making breakfast as an attempt to find some peace between them.

"Mornin'." He replied, looked up, surprised by the sudden mood change, but didn't really let it show.

"Scrambled. Or fried." He said, took a seat, moving just a little slower than usual. "Other than that, coffee. Hot sauce for the eggs. That's kinda it."

His mind was on the night before, the argument, and he didn't really like the whole situation, didn't like being cooped up here.

He didn't bother trying to protect his ribs, didn't have enough time to do so. Something definitely cracked, he heard it, and above all, felt it.

A wince escaped him, took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath, got the wind knocked out of him, trying to ignore the pain in his side and in his eye, looking at Riff, then gave a minor nod.

"Was a bad idea, but if it had been workin', it could've been a good one." He mumbled, looking right at him as Riff made him do so, swallowed a bit, then nodded again, one hand pressed against where he had been kicked, wanting to turn away, crawl away before it escalated.

"I got it. Loud an' clear."

It was hardly the first time, and even Mouthpiece himself couldn't deny that he deserved it.

"Crystal clear. Got it. Ain't gonna do it again. Gonna stay in line."

Riff did indeed let go of his hair, even his violence knew when enough was enough, and that he got his point across. "You make me do this? Why? Ya know what's coming if ya don't listen to fuckin' orders, and yet ya still push me? Do you get off on this or what?"

Riff didn't like how this type of punishment made him feel. He wasn't their father, his boys shouldn't need to be taught with corporal punishment. But here they were again, testing how far he would go.

"I save my extreme judgments for the ones that really go over the line. Like The Jets that tried to rape Anita when yous thought I was dead." He hadn't gotten to the entire of bottom of that one, but he figured a few of them disappearing brought them in line. "So it's not like I'm gonna kill ya for disobeying 'bout this, but I will put ya in the hospital if it keeps ya out of prison? Ya got that, smartass." Mouthpiece indeed.

"I don't like it no more than ya do, but I thought this was coming from ya. Ya know how it is, someone says we go, I go. Didn't tell me nothin' and when the alarm went off, they kinda bolted. I was slower."

That moment Riff spoke of was one that Mouthpiece could remember vividly, Valentina stopping them most of all.

"I ain't done that. I ain't gotta be in no hospital."

He'd keep his head down, or at least try to.

"Got it. Yeah. Got it."

He pushed himself up, winced a bit as he did, the pain in his ribs would definitely serve as a good reminder to not cross Riff again, along with the black eye he would get.

He laid on the couch, shifted a bit, would stay put.

[Text]: Don't worry 'bout it. Just out. It's nothin' you gotta worry about.

He put his phone down, downed his drink, then picked the phone up.

[Text]: Relaax, it's just a drink. It's like a minute away, I'm gonna be back before anyone sees me.

He got up, if reluctantly, a little unsteady on his feet, buzzed more than anything else, turned away, walking towards Riff's place, or at least the general direction of it, lingered outside, for a moment too long, before making his way back in.

"Still ain't locked up, jesus, relax. I was just out."

He laid down on the couch, before standing up, walking towards Riff. "They ain't gonna know shit, no one saw me, an' it's the middle of the night. Who's gonna tell?"

He knew he shouldn't have, but, couldn't exactly regret it. It was worth it.

The texts back from Mouthpiece made Riff want to snap his phone in half. He hated when people didn't listen to him, especially one of The Jets, because that was their fucking job. But more than that, he hated how angry it made him. If Mouthpiece wanted to fuck up his only chance at freedom from jail, then Riff should let him.

The causal way in which is friend waltzed back into his apartment made Riff even more irritated, feeling like steam was about to some out of his ears.

"Yeah right, sleep." Riff said, and then, "C'mere a minute," And the second Mouthpiece looked at him Riff swung and caught him with a very deliberate, very painful right hook to his eye. So hard it made Riff's hand sting and he shook it around. "If you can't follow a simple instruction, I'm not above beatin' it into ya. I'm tryin' ta keep yer fuckin' loser ass out of prison."

Then he kicked Mouthpiece while he was down, right in the ribs. "Gettin' busted over some two-bit robbery no one told ya to do in the first fuckin' place. You know how embarrassin' that is? For me? As the boss? That I can't keep my fuckin' guys in line? Next time, you won't have to deal with gettin' arrested, because you'll have to deal with me instead."

He didn't bother trying to protect his ribs, didn't have enough time to do so. Something definitely cracked, he heard it, and above all, felt it.

A wince escaped him, took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath, got the wind knocked out of him, trying to ignore the pain in his side and in his eye, looking at Riff, then gave a minor nod.

"Was a bad idea, but if it had been workin', it could've been a good one." He mumbled, looking right at him as Riff made him do so, swallowed a bit, then nodded again, one hand pressed against where he had been kicked, wanting to turn away, crawl away before it escalated.

"I got it. Loud an' clear."

It was hardly the first time, and even Mouthpiece himself couldn't deny that he deserved it.

"Crystal clear. Got it. Ain't gonna do it again. Gonna stay in line."