Watching the Boutny Hunter gave me this inspiration…. :] def. one of my favorite movies.
So far I've only planned Fang and Max's roles in this story. They're around ages 21ish I guess?
3rd POV
Smoke…..
Why is my car smoking? Fang, the bounty hunter, thought. Fantastic time for something to go wrong….
Then he remembered the girl in the trunk of his car…. Specifically, his ex-wife.
"Ah, shit," he muttered. "Max! MAX!" he shouted.
Even with his driver-side window open, the smoke was becoming thicker, so Fang pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the freeway.
He got out, slammed his door shut and popped to the trunk of his car, coughing through the foggy air. Max leaned out and tossed a bright flare into the street; before he could put in a word, she punched him—hard—in his stomach, making Fang double over.
She stood over him, angrily shouting, "Did you really think I was going to stay in there the whole time?" and PUSH! Max shoved him over, and watching him roll over on the ground, she took this opportunity to make a break for it.
"Why do they always run…." Fang groaned, but he pushed himself up quickly and chased after her. "Max, c'mon!"
"NO!"
"Stop running!" he tried again, nearing her.
"NO! Leave me alone! I am not going to jail!" she screamed back.
"Get….back here!" with one last yell Fang launched himself forward, tackling a loud Max into the grass.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
24 hours earlier
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Location: New Jersey, during a 4th of July Parade
FANG POV
I leaned against the hood of my car, lazily watching the parade go by. "C'mon….where are you….." I was scanning the crowd for my 'bounty'—and today was the last day I had to bring him in.
A guy in stilts turned onto this street, coming towards me. He looked stupid, dressed in stars and stripes—red, white, and blue—but I could still tell I found the guy. "Bingo," I muttered, smirking. He was good, but I was better.
I walked a little closer to the parade, stepping in to the street. More loudly, I called out, "Hey Je-em!" I taunted, making him turn. He frowned as he searched the crowd. His eyes widened as he spotted me. "Yeah, YOU, ya jackass! C'MERE!" I shouted, going after him.
Immediately a big, big dude stepped in front of me. "Surprise," he said, grinning at me unpleasantly.
I groaned. "Not now, Dwight. I'm kind of busy."
"You owe my boss money."
I laughed dryly. "I owe lots of people money."
My laugh was cut short when he socked me in the stomach. I muttered a string of cuss words, and—while I was down there—I elbowed him 'elsewhere'…making Dwight double over. I kneed him in the head, then tossed him to the side where he crashed into some concession stand.
I paused, catching my breath. I still had Jem in my sight—though it didn't take that much effort to spot a guy towering over the parade on stilts.
I ran, taking a few shortcuts through the parade, and accidentally bumped a guy juggling three torches; he missed and the torches landed on the float, exploding into flames.
Finally, I caught up to Jem and grabbed onto the stilts, but they came loose. I looked up in surprise and saw him climbing up the fire escape of the apartment building next to us.
He was heading to the roof.
I tossed the stilts aside in annoyance and went inside, taking the stairs three at a time 'til I reached the top.
There he was—runnning….towards me? Probably towards the door to the stairs.
He backtracked when he saw me and started running away, but there was only so far you could go on a rooftop. So what did he do when he reached the edge?
He jumped.
And I jumped after him, knowing I could take a four-story fall. Hey—I said I was good—and I meant it!
Turns out there was a Police van below us and we both hit the top hard, bouncing off of it and tumbling to the ground.
Immediately, eight cops encircled us, guns aimed. "Hands up! Now!" they yelled.
I groaned and lifted up one hand; I tossed my badge in front of me, saying, "Take it easy, I'm on the job."
One of them, with blonde hair and blue eyes, picked it up and read it. His badge said he was "Dylan", but once he spoke to me, I labeled him as "douchebag"… "Well, well, well! What do we have here," he said smartly, reading my badge. He tucked away his gun and smirked. "He's a bounty hunter," he sneered.
The other cops smirked and laughed along with him. Dylan plowed on. "Figures. Why don't you just get a real job?"
I already hated his guts. "Whydon't you just kiss my ass?" I shot back, grinning as I got to my feet. He glared at the cop next to him, who went "Oohhh!"
I roughly pulled Jem to his feet. "Your mother must be very proud," I said, cuffing his hands behind his back. He was a young kid—like, 19. So a kid this young skipping out on court is pretty disappointing. I was doing so well at his age.
"Oohh, I am so insulted." He said, panting still. "And actually, for your information, I don't even know who my mother is!" He shot back, as if to try and out-insult me. "So HAH! The jokes on you."
Dylan came up to us as another cop took hold of Jem. Dylan said, "Turn around, shithead, and put your hands behind your back."
I realized he was talking to me. "What? You have gotta be kidding me…"
"You heard me. Turn around."
I groaned, being forced to do so by another officer.
I gave my death glare to Jem, but he was too busy laughing at me to notice…
MAX POV [writer for the Daily News newspaper]
I hated my work attire; no casual-anything allowed; In fact my friend Monique helped me pick this one out for my trial: a short-sleeved white button up tucked into a fitting gray skirt.
I exited the elevator, leaving the other men staring. It was actually kind of funny.
I guess I gotta thank Monique—at this rate, I'd get a boyfriend and the Judge'll let my case go.
I passed my co-worker Gary and asked him, "Hey Gary; did you get my email?"
I kept on walking, so he had to turn around as he spoke, even though he was heading in the other direction. "Uh, yeah, about the suicide; he's got a sister in Atlantic City—address is on your desk!"
"Thank you!" I called.
"Anytime—"he replied. I don't think I was supposed to hear him say, "Day or night…." Which he added.
"I heard that!" I smirked, earning no reply.
I passed Sam on the way to my desk, feeling him watching me from behind. Long story short: we made out once; he's now undeniably in love with me. And I guarantee you it is not mutual…
I found a sticky note attached to a paper taped to my computer screen. The paper had my mugshot from the police station, and the note read: Don't forget! Court tomorrow! 9 am.
"Ha, ha—very funny, guys!" I called out, and a few others snickered nearby.
Sam smoothly sat on the edge of my desk, grinning at me. "I think it's pretty sexy that you're out on bail."
I took a deep breath, immediately tearing the paper in half with a loud rrriiiiip! "Sam, off my desk. Now."
He pursed his lips and awkwardly slid off. "Right. Sorry…"
"It's ridiculous that I even got arrested in the first place," I muttered angrily, tossing the crumpled mugshot into the trash.
"Mmhm."
"I mean assaulting an officer? That's a joke!"
"Psh. Yeah, tell me about it!" he agreed. He changed the subject, knowing he was losing his act. "So hey—did you get anything on that suicide case?"
"Uh…no but—"
"Yeah 'cause you know what I was thinking? I was thinking that we should work together on it. As a team—"
"Ah—" NO!
"—that way you can get it done a lot faster and it gives us a little time to, uh, you know, reconnect our…relationship."
"Sam…" I growled, turning on my computer. "We are not in a relationship. We made out one time at the Christmas party. I was very drunk; heartbroken." I let out a frustrated sigh. "I would've made out with Terry."
He laughed, but seeing my look realized I was serious. "Wait—Terry the guy or Terry the girl?"
I smirked. My turn to laugh. "See? Exactly—it wouldn't have mattered."
He grinned again. "You're right—because you made out with me!"
I just faked a smile, grabbed my phone, and said, "Yes, Sam, yes I did. Now I have to go use the bathroom."
Once inside, I made sure it was empty and locked myself in one of the stalls. I dialed a guy named Jimmy, the guy feeding me information for my article.
"Helloo, this is Jimmy." The noisy background told me he as at work at his bar.
"Hey, Jimmy, it's Max—from the Daily News. Listen, I need you to ask around about a suicide: A Walter Lily; Rivington Street; the night of June 23rd."
I heard him writing it down… "23….. Got it. Anything else?" he asked.
"Oh, yes….uh…." I racked my brain for the other information. "There was a black SUV with stolen plates at the scene. So, I dunno, there may be something else—you never know."
"O-kay—If I hear anything I'll give you a shout."
"Great thanks!" I said, cutting our connection.
…Yup, my article will be the best in the paper; all I need now is a little more proof…
I breathed out a slow sigh…
Then I heard: "Who are you talking to?" making me jump and slide my heels together with an audible click.
I angrily stood up and burst out of the stall. "SAM! What the hell are you doing in the ladies room?"
He came out of the next-door stall grinning. "Well, you see, I was standing outside of the door, there," he explained, gesturing over his shoulder to the exit, "but then I started to feel a little creepy."
I was dumbstruck. "So this is the less creepy option?"
Sam was still grinning. "Yup, I think so," he replied, nodding his head.
I gave up on this conversation. "Get out of here," I told him, marching forward and holding the door open.
"Aw, c'mon, Max. Hey! I have an idea—let me buy you a drink."
"I have a date." I growled. Not that I really did, but it's not like I was ever going to say yes.
"Wait—I didn't say which night! So you CAN'T be busy!" he smirked. "Nice try, Max."
I huffed and glared at him. "Okay, how about this: I have a date. Every single night until the end of time. Okay? So please—stop asking me!"
I stormed out, but not before hearing him laugh and say to himself, "Ahhh, love is so funny, isn't it?"
-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Rivington Street
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I was currently on the last rooftop Walter Lily ever stood on in his life. It was a building on the corner of the street, and a good height above the ground. I peered over the railing on the corner of the rooftop when I heard the chiming of my cellphone behind me, cutting off my train of thoughts.
The caller ID read 'MOM'.
"Hi, Mom," I said, not too enthusiastic.
"Hi, honey—is this a bad time?"
I went back over to the railing and looked down, still pondering over that suicide. "I'm….uh….I'm kinda in the middle of something. But while I have you on the phone, let me ask you this: If you were going to jump off a building, would you choose the side 'trees?'" I asked, looking down on the left side of the railing, lined with shady trees. "Or would you choose 'sidewalk', with a straight view below?" The right side of the corner was all sidewalk, with more people passing.
"Well, the trees would certainly make for a prettier picture on the way down. But then it might break your fall, so I might not succeed in the end," she answered.
"So…you'd pick the sidewalk?"
"Definitely. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, well, I'm at a rooftop, on the corner of 6th and Rivington, and—"
Now she sounded panicked. "Now you listen here, young lady, you have every right to hate your life—"
Huh? "What—Mom—"
"—and I mean, who wouldn't—the choices you made—"
"Mom!"
"—and that whole thing with Fang and—"
"Mom!" I yelled.
She paused her rant. "What?"
Good, lord, she can worry. I shouldn't have said that—Mom immediately thought of the suicide. "I'm workin'!" I replied. "I'm not actually here to jump!"
"Oh."
I sighed and massaged my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "I'll call you later, Mom."
"Um…okay. But, you know, just to clarify—" I groaned, but I couldn't stop her this time. "We all make mistakes, sweetie. You married a man who made you crazy and you divorced him for the same reason—"
"Sorry Mom! I have to go!" I cut in, immediately ending the call.
Currently working on chapter two…..please Review! How'd it flooowww? ;)
Happy Thxgiving Everyone!
PS: what am I thankful for? Family….friends…..reviews….oh, you know…. :]
