Detective Roger Phillips gazes out of the window of his small, shitty apartment and ponders about his life. How had he become one of the most prominent Private Investigators in Chicago in less than five years and fallen off just as quickly. He was the go to man if you needed a crime solved. He was getting paid left and right by big names and small. He had an amazing apartment, an amazing life and an amazing wife and kids. He was proud of himself. No more struggling and striving to get to the top anymore. No more kissing ass. But, now he was a mere shadow of his former self. He had gotten too cocky. He thought he couldn't be touched. He thought things would turn out right. In the midst of all the things going on he lost himself. He started doing dirty deeds and didn't think of how his family would be affected. He didn't think. He didn't think at all.

Currently, he had no plans as to where his life was going now. He worked measly paying low skill manufacturing jobs. He spent long hours at the factory trying to make ends meet. He was embarrassed to show his face around Chicago. Even though as a P.I. you're supposed to stay private, so they didn't recognize him, he pitied himself. He hadn't taken a job in years. That was until recntly someone came along with a job that was sure to get him back into the game. The job was both high profile and high paying. And since it was so, it was also very risky. But, succeeding with taking a risk is much better than succeeding while not. This job was dangerous and not to mention illegal. Great. This was surely going to get Roger Phillips back into the game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Mighty Burner ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

24-year-old Jazmine Dubois took the stage at The Mighty Burner and sang just like she did every night. She had an alluring voice. A unique tone combined with a quick vibrato and a soft, smooth whisper and a high range, she was probably the best and most emotive singer in her age bracket. She sang a variety of popular Jazz songs and even some songs that she wrote herself. She sang slow songs that made the audience stand on their feet when she was done and she sang fast paced songs that couldn't keep the audience off of their feet while she performed. On Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights she would perform at her father's, Tom Dubois, jazz-filled establishment. She would ignore the cigar smoke from the wannabe cool cats in the crowd as well as their whistles. Only focusing on the music and the sounds coming out of her mouth. Jazmine's performance choices were tied to her emotions. Sometimes she wanted to be sassy, sometimes she wants to be coy.

Tonight was a night that she took it slow and sensual. After she got off the stage, well shooed off by another obnoxious performer, Riley Freeman, she sat at the bar and took a drink.

"Hey Sam. Get me a drink won't you. And don't put all that fucking ice in there. I know what you motherfuckers are doing diluting the liquor and shit. I want my drink straight."

"Well, alright. Someone's in a diva mood."

"Whatever." It was then, while Jazmine was waiting on her drink that she saw a guy sitting next to her. He had a crisp white hat on and the whitest, cleanest suit that you could find. He had a black scarf draped around his broad shoulders and down his suit. She could not see his face because of his hat only that he was intermittently drinking from his glass full of dark liqour. Sam brought her her drink and she quickly drunk that and ordered another and two more. She wasn't near drunk though. Jazmine knew how to handle her liquor.

"Hey Jazz. How you liking it here? Chicago that is. How is it?"

"Cold." She spoke defiantly and confidently.

"What it doesn't get this cold in New Orleans?" From the corner of her eye she noticed that the guy with the hat, with his face still invisible, turned his head towards her ever so discreetly.

"Fuck no. You know I've been here three weeks and I swear one day my nipples are going to fall off."

"Well I wouldn't want to see that."

"Well that's why I made sure to buy the biggest fur I could find."

"Wow. You got that kind of bread, sugar?"

"Well, my father owns this place and I work here and look around this place is always jumping and it's huge. What other bar in Chicago has four fucking bartenders, eh? I mean look at me I bring the entertainment around here. I helped make this place. Before I came here it was bland as fuck. This place would be just another Jazz club if it wasn't for me. As a matter of fact I'd estimate that by the end of this month I'd be the most famous woman in Chicago and by January the richest."

"Well you sure are a cocky little something." Sam looked at Jazmine amused.

"Well when they call you Jazz what do you expect?" Jazmine smirked and walk away but not before yelling for Sam to put it on her tab.

She grabbed her coat out of the coat room and she put it on and proceeded to say goodbye to some of her friends. She then went to kiss her father on the cheek.

"Bye, Daddy."

"Goodbye, sweetie. Be safe you hear?"

"Yeah, Yeah daddy."

Jazmine's father was so overprotective. When Jazmine moved away from her parents to her own place in New Orleans, she didn't think her parents would leave too. When she left home, rumors spread that she had gotten pregnant and got rid of the baby or that she was ooked on drugs. Jazmine would sing at many different clubs but she had the unjust reputation of a sleazy, floozy. No one took her serious. Women hated her. Jazmine always assumed that it was because she was exotic and different looking. When Jazmine was younger she hated herself and wished that she weren't so different. As a child people often teased her for the way she looked. They called her "nappy head" "mutt" and one time a boy brought a dog collar to school and called her "Dog". Seeing as though her school was so small and only a limited amount of people received an education, it was hell going there, but she had to learn her father always told her that if have an education you have success no matter what. Jazmine began to love herself no matter what she looked like. She was very proud of accomplishing what she has accomplished. However, she just couldn't shake being completely alone. She decided that she needed something different. A change of scenery. When she found out he owned a club in Chicago when they moved, she offered to sing. He accepted. Tom was really overprotective and wanted his daughter with him no matter how old she was.

Jazmine went outside to her car and she went to open the door when she felt a hand. She tried to turn around to see who was there but whoever it was roughly grabbed her arm and put their hand over her mouth. Jazmine kicked and tried to scream but to no avail. The person, whom judging by the hand moving up her dress, she presumed was male, made no sounds. The only sounds she could here were the shuffling of their feet as they both struggled for very different reasons. She also heard the rustling of the wind and police sirens far into the distance. As his hand moved farther and farther under her dress, she began to hear other sounds like footsteps. They got closer and closer. Jazmine was scared. She didn't know of the person was a friend of the creep or not. Then all of a sudden she heard a calm, deep voice say:

"Get off of her."

The guy removed his hand from under Jazmine's skirt and began to lunge at the guy with anger. It was then that she noticed that it was the guy from the bar in the suit. The guy did a series of moves on the creep until he was laying on the ground knocked out. The guy didn't even have a scratch or scrape on him. Jazmine could finally see his face and couldn't help but to hold her breath. She thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He had beautiful brown skin and the oddest, red-brown colored eyes that looked oddly familiar. Overall, he was very handsome and painfully attractive.

"Thanks." Jazmine finally said. The guy looked at her and kept walking.

"Hey!" He turned around slowly with his eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"Aren't you going to say something...I don't know like you're welcome."

"You're welcome." He said coldly and continued to walk to his nice car, opened the door and drove off.

Jazmine watched as he drove off. She kicked the unconscious man once and trotted off to her car.

~~~~~~~~~~ Riley Freeman~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man it was 10 minutes after that fine ass bitch Jazmine left and I was on stage. The crowd was loving my ass. I played the saxophone. I also played the bass, trumpet and the trombone but I loved the saxophone. It was more than an instrument. So much personality behind a shiny, brass body. It was a way of life. Literally. Without this instrument I would probably be on the streets in a gang or some shit. Running from the police and shit. Well, I still run from the police and shit, but never about nothing serious. After I got off of the stage, I was met by my hating ass brother. I don't know why, but I ain't gonna lie, that nigga was dressed fly as shit. He must have been trying to pull one of these fly ass broads here tonight. No, I forgot that nigga is asexual or some shit. At least that's what I think. Anyways, he came to drop off my package and he was talking to the owner or some shit. That nigga stay secretive as fuck. I know he got businesses and shit. That nigga just like Reezy, he be having crazy stacks of money. I guess the big brother can learn from the little brother. Hehe.

"Aye, Sam. What's up nigga? Can you fix a nigga a drink."

"How come all of you stars come to me and demand drinks. There are three other bartenders that will put up with your crap." Sam ranted playfully.

"Whatever, nigga. Just give me my drink. Aye, where is Jazmine fine ass at? I need to get her drunk so I can run game on her."

"So you gotta get her drunk first, eh?"

"Shut up. You know Jazz is uptight and shit."

"Yeah either that or your game is ass."

"Hey my game gets ass. Got that. Jazmine is going to let Reezy in it's inevitable."

"Reezy? You're so ahead of your time." Riley laughed not noting his sarcasm.

"Well...what can I say."

"I'd say your brother has a better chance with Jazmine than you do and she didn't even see his face."

"What you talking about?" Riley arched one of his eyebrows up inquisitively.

"Well earlier he was sitting here at the bar next to her, face hidden and she couldn't keep her eyes off of him. She's looked at him more in one night than she's looked at you in a month." Sam laughs as he wipes down the glasses."

"Well I look at it as a good thing. Huey, the ever so cold, so cruel, ass nigga will shut her down just like he does every other girl. And guess who she will come crawling to? Me. The brother who will comfort her and tell her he's done that to every girl and that nothing's wrong with her ass, but him. And that I am not the same kind of nigga. Yeah. I'm just waiting on that to happen."

"Well in that case I think I can safely say that you're intelligent but dumb."

"What? Whatever nigga. I gotta go home with one of these second rate females. Catch ya later nigga."

He walks off and sees a girl walking by.

"Hey, Stacy! Girl bring your fine ass over here." The girl stops and giggles as Riley puts his arm over her shoulders. They walk further and further away until they are out of the door.

Sam shakes his head.

"When will they learn? These kids know nothing about love and are bound to run into heartbreak."

~~~~~~~~~~ Huey Freeman ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes people think they know you. They think they know what you're about. Well I only show people what I want them to see. They know what I want them to know. My world is just that. My world. I let in who I choose to let in and coincidentally I let no one in. Some people can't handle the fact that I'm that way. To them I'm mysterious and mystery is often mistaken for contempt. They can't handle the fact that I can get whatever I want. I have most people in the great city of Chicago wrapped around my finger. I can't help that I'm popular and have so much influence over people. Most people know me as a business man...and I am. But that's not all. I also run several organizations to uplift black people. I give back to my people because my people give to me.

At the age of 24 years old, I have accomplished things people thrice my age and twice my status never will. The year is 1944 and I've never felt so alive. Want to know about me? I live alone. I read a lot. I've mastered the art of business. In fact there is one last business pursuit that I am currently working on. I'm making a nightclub. My own nightclub. Yes I own part of The Mighty Burner with Tom. But I want my own club. See, I'm ambitious and I have very innovative ideas. But, my partner Tom likes to play it safe. Huey Freeman never plays it safe. What's life without a little risk? Opening is in a few weeks and I need one thing to assure that my club is a hit. And I intend on getting it.

Did I mention I'm also an expert in weaponry and martial arts?