while his friend might have got the fuck out of dodge, away from the trouble, brian only found himself deeper in it-- especially after his sister died. through a series of unfortunate events, heâs found himself tied up with the wrong people all over again ; ironically, the same people who took his sibling out from beneath his fingers. and while in any other world they would be dead by now, he hasnât had the luxury of getting the upper hand. instead, heâs been sent out to do their bidding as they please, and now? now theyâve got him on some task thatâs so far from home, he wonders who it is and why itâs so fucking important.Â
itâs a long way from new mexico, and he leaves with gritted teeth and a bitter attitude. one of these days-- somehow-- heâs going to find the perfect opportunity to get the slip, to turn this whole thing around, and to get revenge.Â
tonight might be that night.Â
sky clear, stars ever prominent, it seems oddly dark for a place that rarely sees the sun. this place heâs been sent to... fuck, it almost feels like a set up. itâs in bum-fuck nowhere, miles off the grid, and he wonders if maybe this is going to be the night that he bites the dust. pistol pulled from the inside of his jacket, he clutches it tight in his hand, making his way up to the side of the home. brown eyes peer through a window, making out a figure that seems to sit in the living space ; itâs a man, or at least thatâs what it looks like from the backside of him, and thereâs not much more that brian cares to know. killing has been something heâs used to, something heâs numb about for the most part, but itâs always the fear of the mess or the possible outcome of getting caught that scares him the most.Â
instructions were clear: make sure heâs is dead, and put a bullet between his  eyes.Â
now, this would be a much easier task if the person in question hadnât stood up and turned around. jake. they said his name was jake-- and this isnât jake. gun that was once raised now begins to lower, and his eyes widen upon the realization that this isnât just some random guy-- this is jesse. he ducks before he can see him, back pressing to the wall of the side of the house, and he begins to way his options. he isnât the kind of person to turn on those who would be considered his own kind, as far as the drug-world food chain goes-- especially if this person is someone he once considered a friend. but thatâs when it all clicks: Â
this is his opportunity. this is the checkmate.
he fears someone is watching, that someone has followed, and for that, heâll put on a show. he steps around to the front door, gives it a good few knocks. itâs to his surprise that jesse answers, and when he meets with his gaze, he raises his pistol up to point the barrel at his head.  â donât say shit-- get inside. â
brian moves forward, urging the other to step back, and when jesse begins to move backwards, he follows him in. leg raises, boot kicking the bottom of the door to slam it shut behind them, and he cocks the gun.  â cover your ears. â it isnt much of a warning before he shifts the weapon slightly, bullet firing past jesseâs head to lodge into the wall of his kitchen. itâs only then that he lowers it, even going as far as to toss it off to the side onto the floor because heâd like to make it clear: he isnât here to hurt him.Â
â iâm not gonna lie, you really ainât the person i was expectinâ to see. â
