Riff

"Oh haha, ya is very funny. Rub it in, why don't ya?" Mouthpiece didn't really want a kid if he was being completely honest, he really never even considered it as part of his life.

"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."

He sighed, relieved at getting some kind of help from Riff. "Mhm. Let me just... sort all this crap out and I'm gonna be ready. Hell, I can do whatever now."

"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."

"Ya know it could happen to ya too, so shut up, will ya?" Mouthpiece was not in the mood for teasing, took the cigarette, grateful for it. "Cigars? Why?"

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'."

With that, he turned on his heels, making his way back out into the garage, hoping he'd get there before Riff could ask more questions.

frxncaise

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.

@setwithacapitalj

"Already hurts." Mouthpiece muttered, moving away, not about to just accept help, even though some blood was trickling from his nose,he carelessly wiped it with the back of his hand.

"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.

"Don't touch me. I got it, ya don't gotta help out, and don't gotta call me darlin'." He stayed standing, arms crossed over his chest, not about to listen, or even respect her.

#frxncaise

Mouthpiece on the other hand didn't find it funny, eyes fixed on the desk. "I wish. It ain't that funny if it was a joke, is it?" He sat tense, regretting every life choice that led to this moment, wanting nothing more than to disappear into thin air, or anything rather than to be right there.

"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.

"Just knocked up. Some fuckin' mess this is. Stressin' me out, let me tell ya. I need a damn drink."

"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?"

"Oh haha, ya is very funny. Rub it in, why don't ya?" Mouthpiece didn't really want a kid if he was being completely honest, he really never even considered it as part of his life.

"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."

He sighed, relieved at getting some kind of help from Riff. "Mhm. Let me just... sort all this crap out and I'm gonna be ready. Hell, I can do whatever now."

"Yeah, 'cause I need it." Mouthpiece muttered, not feeling like giving Riff the exact details, but clearly having no choice. He lingered by the door, looking at Riff, only moving closer when the clear instruction to take a seat came, sat on the very edge of the seat, ready to get up when or if he needed to.

"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.

"The consequence showed up on my damn doorstep late last night, demandin' I pay up and now I'm apperantly s'pposed to deal with it. So yeah, I'm a little fuckin' stressed, and that is why I need time off."

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?"

Mouthpiece on the other hand didn't find it funny, eyes fixed on the desk. "I wish. It ain't that funny if it was a joke, is it?" He sat tense, regretting every life choice that led to this moment, wanting nothing more than to disappear into thin air, or anything rather than to be right there.

"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.

"Just knocked up. Some fuckin' mess this is. Stressin' me out, let me tell ya. I need a damn drink."

That comment was expected, and Mouthpiece let out a sigh, felt some sort of desperation rise up, but tried to push it down.

"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."

The thought crossed his mind to just explain, but he figured it'd hardly help.

"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."

"Yeah, 'cause I need it." Mouthpiece muttered, not feeling like giving Riff the exact details, but clearly having no choice. He lingered by the door, looking at Riff, only moving closer when the clear instruction to take a seat came, sat on the very edge of the seat, ready to get up when or if he needed to.

"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.

"The consequence showed up on my damn doorstep late last night, demandin' I pay up and now I'm apperantly s'pposed to deal with it. So yeah, I'm a little fuckin' stressed, and that is why I need time off."

Mouthpiece knocked on Riff's office door, waited for it to open. Once it did,he stepped in and took a seat.

"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

#riffxlorton #(Mouthpiece probably: This is totally a great idea what can go wrong?)

That comment was expected, and Mouthpiece let out a sigh, felt some sort of desperation rise up, but tried to push it down.

"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."

The thought crossed his mind to just explain, but he figured it'd hardly help.

"Because, I'm lookin' for a new place, and that's taking time, so, if piece of shit landlord can get better in the meantime, because, let me tell ya, he's a real piece of shit. Like, I could be livin' in that place for six months, an' let me tell ya, it ain't easy findin' a place. Got other bills ta pay, and I kinda wanna live a little. Ya know?" Mouthpiece explained, leaving out how he could probably get a place next week if he wanted. It would hardly be difficult. What was difficult was choosing a place.

"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.

"I gotta go by my place and pack. Strictly business?" He was in on it, gladly, if it meant getting to stay on as part of the Jets.

"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."

Riff nodded and snuffed out the last bit of his cigarette. "Yeah, you can go back and pack when ya need to, but finish the work day first, yeah?

"Figured. Ya bringin' anyone else?" Mouthpiece suspected it was likely going to be a no on that one, but it never hurt to know for sure.

"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.

"Was just 'bout to. Got a car to fix up."

"I'm movin'. That guy's an ass and I'm really done with his shit." Mouthpiece muttered, rolled his eyes.

"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.

"Do I get to beat someone up?"

"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.

"No," Riff said flatly, "I need to meet up with some suppliers...in Mexico. I don't wanna go alone, for obvious fuckin' reasons. These are crazy, dangerous bastards. But I figure if you wanna make it up to me and prove yerself, it can't hurt. They're sending a private plane, so don't worry about the leavin' the country bit."

"Because, I'm lookin' for a new place, and that's taking time, so, if piece of shit landlord can get better in the meantime, because, let me tell ya, he's a real piece of shit. Like, I could be livin' in that place for six months, an' let me tell ya, it ain't easy findin' a place. Got other bills ta pay, and I kinda wanna live a little. Ya know?" Mouthpiece explained, leaving out how he could probably get a place next week if he wanted. It would hardly be difficult. What was difficult was choosing a place.

"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.

"I gotta go by my place and pack. Strictly business?" He was in on it, gladly, if it meant getting to stay on as part of the Jets.

Mouthpiece nodded, not expecting the dishes to take him an hour to do, hoping to manage to take a quick shower in the meantime.

"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.

"In an hour. Got it. Gonna be there."

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."

He inhaled on his cigarette as he tossed the lighter on the desk. "Are you aware that I've been pushing coke?" He asked his friend, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

"I'm movin'. That guy's an ass and I'm really done with his shit." Mouthpiece muttered, rolled his eyes.

"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.

"Do I get to beat someone up?"

"I know. Didn't think I was gonna get caught. It was stupid, I know we got better things to do an' all." Mouthpiece said, looked up at Riff, feeling his heart pound a bit, not wanting to say the wrong thing and end up fired, or worse.

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.

He stood, picking up the dishes, set them down on the counter, put the orange juice back, hot sauce back too, scraping what remained of the scrambled eggs into the trash can, only to get started on dishes, scrubbing them clean.

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..."

It was the last warning he was going to give. He grabbed his jacket and left the loft.

Mouthpiece nodded, not expecting the dishes to take him an hour to do, hoping to manage to take a quick shower in the meantime.

"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.

"In an hour. Got it. Gonna be there."

"I wasn't lookin' to get drunk, I was just goin' out. The rest kinda happened." Mouthpiece knew he was wrong to have done it, and regretted it well enough.

"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."

The thought of it getting worse made him freeze, swallow, and nod. "Ya don't have to do nothin'. I'm gonna behave. Last night ain't gonna happen again." That was a promise, he didn't want to lose what little he had.

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."

Riff stood, having not eaten much breakfast at all, as usual. "And clean this up before ya go, huh? Be a good pal for yer ol' buddy Riff?"

"I know. Didn't think I was gonna get caught. It was stupid, I know we got better things to do an' all." Mouthpiece said, looked up at Riff, feeling his heart pound a bit, not wanting to say the wrong thing and end up fired, or worse.

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.

He stood, picking up the dishes, set them down on the counter, put the orange juice back, hot sauce back too, scraping what remained of the scrambled eggs into the trash can, only to get started on dishes, scrubbing them clean.

"Garage. Got it, gonna go there." Mouthpiece decided it was best to try to be agreeable, in the hopes of keeping some kind of peace between them.

"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.

"Getting drunk sure as hell helped, but... yeah.."

"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."

Riff stabbed his knife down into his eggs, suddenly having lost his appetite.

"I wasn't lookin' to get drunk, I was just goin' out. The rest kinda happened." Mouthpiece knew he was wrong to have done it, and regretted it well enough.

"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."

The thought of it getting worse made him freeze, swallow, and nod. "Ya don't have to do nothin'. I'm gonna behave. Last night ain't gonna happen again." That was a promise, he didn't want to lose what little he had.

Mouthpiece looked down, one eye swollen shut, but it didn't really bother him too much.

"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.

"Ya need me to do something today?"

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.'

"We ain't gonna have a repeat of last night, are we?"

"Garage. Got it, gonna go there." Mouthpiece decided it was best to try to be agreeable, in the hopes of keeping some kind of peace between them.

"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.

"Getting drunk sure as hell helped, but... yeah.."

"I ain't makin' ya do nothin'. Yeah it was stupid, I kinda figured that out when the cops came around. I don't mean to get ya pissed off, I ain't likin' it." Mouthpiece gave a nod, the point having gotten across loud and clear, and there was no defiance in him.

"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.

One thing he didn't want to lose was the others, it was all he had.

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.

"Morin'." He said, and slung a dish cloth over his shoulder. "How'a like yer eggs?"

Mouthpiece looked down, one eye swollen shut, but it didn't really bother him too much.

"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.

"Ya need me to do something today?"

The hit caught Mouthpiece by full surprise, barely processing it happened until Riff's fist hit his eye, and he was down.

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."

He didn't try to move away, didn't move a muscle, just stayed where he was, waited to either be let go, or hit again, whatever Riff decided.

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.

Riff placed his hands on his hips and stepped away. "Get the fuck up and go back to bed. If I wake up in the morning and yer not here, consider yerself exiled."

"I ain't makin' ya do nothin'. Yeah it was stupid, I kinda figured that out when the cops came around. I don't mean to get ya pissed off, I ain't likin' it." Mouthpiece gave a nod, the point having gotten across loud and clear, and there was no defiance in him.

"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.

One thing he didn't want to lose was the others, it was all he had.

Mouthpiece pulled his phone from his pocket, read the text, shook his head a bit.

[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.

"I'm gonna go sleep now."

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 grabbed Mouthpiece's hair, making him look at him. "Are we crystal clear here? 'Cause I've officially lost my goddamn sense a' humour with you."

The hit caught Mouthpiece by full surprise, barely processing it happened until Riff's fist hit his eye, and he was down.

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."

He didn't try to move away, didn't move a muscle, just stayed where he was, waited to either be let go, or hit again, whatever Riff decided.