Chapter 1

Riley's POV

Damn, man, what the hell Mr. Wuncler want from us this time? Ain't nobody got time for his fat ass.

Oh! My bad! You probably wondering what the fuck that had to do with anything. You see, I'm an FBI agent. And my partner is…Huey Freeman. The gayest nigga in the world. All that nigga does is read books in his free time. Annoying ass nigga. He gay as fuck. And no, we not related. Er'body think we related cuz, you know, we just happen to have the same last name and whatever. We got the same eye color, which is maroon, and kind of look alike, but we ain't related. That nigga got a big ass afro too. Need to cut that shit off. Or get braids, like me…nah only a real nigga could rock these. But damn, yo if we was related, that woulda sucked. Cuz you know, that nigga gay, and I'm a real ass nigga. We was currently walking down the hall, making our way to this bitch ass nigga (don't tell him I said that) Mr. Wuncler's office. I looked down at Huey. That nigga short as hell. Well not really, he like 5'7 and I'm like 5'11. A good four inches taller than him.

"Yo, Huey, what you think that fat ass want this time?" I asked him. Huey looked at me with that infamous glare of his.

"Probably wants us to do some sort of mission or whatever. Anyway, you shouldn't call him a fat ass, stupid. You just might lose your job." Huey replied. I growled. I know this nigga did not just call me stupid. Oh, hell no! Riley Freeman is not stupid! I'm a real nigga!

"Nigga, what did you just call me?! I ain't stupid, goddammit! I'm a real nigga!" I hollered. Huey sighed and rolled his eyes at me.

"Shut up, dumbass."

Oh, so now I'm a dumbass. Okay, I see how it is. Whatever man, I ain't even gon' entertain that. I'mma just stay cool, and act like I ain't hear nothing….yeah right!

"Listen, I ain't no dumbass. Call me that again, or I will-" Huey abruptly stopped and glared at me. Man I swear he could've grew horns.

"Or you will what?" He asked me dangerously. I put my arms up in defense.

"Uhh…n-nothing…" I gulped nervously. Damn, ya'll have not seen that nigga in action. One time, we were busting these punk ass niggas for illegal drug dealing, and this nigga fucking…karate chopped them niggas. I mean, they were beaten to a bloody pulp, and I ain't even have to do anything.

"Exactly…that's what I thought." Huey gritted out before walking right in front me.

"Sheesh, you ain't gotta be so hard on a nigga." I said, scratching my head. Huey flipped me off. I rolled my eyes at him before we reached the door. Huey turned the knob and there sat Mr. Wuncler, stuffing his fat ass face with some donuts. I grimaced, and so did Huey. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, his bitch ass don't like them donuts or junk food in general. He doesn't even eat meat! He says that he's a revolutionist, and revolutionists are vegetarians. Ugh, damn he pisses me off! How the fuck do you live without chicken?! I need my chicken in my life! And my junk food. Oh, and he also says that junk food causes death. Pssh, nigga please. I've eaten junk food practically all my life and I ain't dead yet. This nigga is trippin'. That's all I gotta say.

"Agent Huey. Agent Riley. Please take a seat." I gulped. When he referred to us as agents that mean we gotta take on something serious. Pssh, man what am I being a pussy fo'? I could handle this with no problems. I sat back and got comfy.

"Yes, Mr. Wuncler?" Huey asked.

"I have a special mission for you two!" He clapped his hands once and sat up in his chair. My face grew real serious. Special missions are serious. It could lead up to death too, if you not real careful.

"Well, what is the assignment, Mr. Wuncler?" I asked, dropping my slang. I wanted to let him know that I was serious. We gotta act like professionals up in this bitch.

"There are young females, around 16 to 23 who are mysteriously disappearing after attending a club down in Manhattan, New York. What I need you guys to do is to go down to investigate." He pulled out two pictures, one picture revealing a man with dark piercing brown eyes and a sharp jaw and nose. He was white and he had short dark brown hair. The other revealed a well-built black man. He was bald, with piercing dark brown eyes and had broad shoulders.

"The white guy's, from what we were able to pull up, name is Mark Johnson. He's the head of the game, and is about 6'1. He's the one who organizes where the girls are going to be sent. The black guy's name is Lamar Pharr, who's 6'5. He is Mark's assistant. He collects all the money and does all of the illegal activity that involves the girls. What you guys have to do is try and get as much information as possible from these two men and see where these girls are being taken. Once you've found anything, you must text me immediately through your cellular devices." I looked at him. That's it? So that mean I got all serious for nothing? Man, this some ole bullshit! We've handled waaay worse shit than this!

"That's it?" Huey asked, voicing my question for me.

"Yes, for the description of the assignment. Now to get to the core…" He trailed off. I gulped again. From the corner of my eye, I watched as Huey bit his lip. It wasn't a noticeable gesture. Only I could notice it, because we been partners for almost two years now. He does that when he gets nervous. Yeah, right? Who knew that this so called almighty revolutionist here could get…nervous?

"Huey. You have to dress like a slut and go down to the root of the business to get information. You will be known under the name 'Tasha'. But be careful, these men do like boys as well, from what I could pull up from the secret information website on them, and they especially like boys who dress up like little sluts, so you may get…you know…sexualized. And you cannot, and I repeat, cannot use your martial arts skills on them, if they do try to touch you, because that will officially throw up red flags, and make them seem suspicious of you, and you could possibly fail in getting information on these girls." I noticed Huey seething as he tried to keep his facial features respectable. You could literally feel the heat waves of anger rolling off of him. I tried with all my might to keep from laughing. Yo, but forreal? This nigga gon' have to dress like a slut? And risk gettin' raped? Oh man, I'm done! This is just too good to be true!

"Oh, and here's the costume you will be wearing." Mr. Wuncler opened one of his big drawers and pulled out a bag. He passed it down to Huey. Huey tentatively grabbed the bag.

"Go on, take the clothes out already." He ordered. Huey slowly opened the bag and pulled out a dark navy blue pencil skirt. My shoulders shook as I tried to contain my laughter. Damn, Huey, in a pencil skirt? That's priceless! Huey's frown began to deepen. Next he pulled out a black, skanky crop top with spaghetti straps, black stilettos with ankle straps, a makeup bag, and a…thong.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHA! NIGGA GOT A THONG! HAHAHAHA!" I couldn't take it anymore. I busted out laughing. Huey sent me his most evil death glare, but that didn't faze me. I was holding my stomach, dying from the laughter.

"I have to wear…this?" He asked in disgust. The thong was pink and lacy.

"Yup. Oh and one more thing." He pulled out a black, sleek flat iron.

"You might also wanna straighten your hair…that way, you won't be recognizable." Mr. Wuncler suggested. I laughed even more. Yo, this day couldn't get better! Huey absolutely hates the idea of straightening black hair. He says that it ruins the African roots.

"Shut up, Riley!" Huey growled out. I continued snickering.

"Yeah, shut up. You ain't off the hook either. You gotta pretend to be the boyfriend, so that out in public, people won't notice anything…suspicious. And you will go under the name 'Junior.'" Mr. Wuncler said. Immediately my jaw fell open. Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold up a second. Did this nigga just say that I, Riley Freeman, gotta be Huey's…boyfriend? Man that shit's just unheard of!

"Say what?! I gotta be his boyfriend?! Nigga that's gay! And I ain-OOW!" Mr. Wuncler had thrown a stapler at me. I rubbed my head, while scowling.

"There, that'll get you to shut up. And yes, you will be his boyfriend. So that means, you both will have to kiss out in public, hold hands, etc." He stated. Me and Huey both shuddered at the thought. This is just wrong. Very wrong. Mr. Wuncler pulled out my costume too. It consisted of some Timberlands, a pair of black jeans, and a blue Nike hoodie. Yeah, this'll do.

"Now, that's that shit I like." I said, grinning at my outfit.

"So that's the mission. Oh, and Huey, you have a woman coming at around 12:30 to wax and clean you up, and teach you how to straighten hair and do makeup, etc. You're dismissed." He said to us. We both got up from our chairs and turned to leave this office.

"Oh, and one more thing. You guys will also have to dance at the club. And the club is called 'Bandz'. Enjoy! And that woman's name is Jane. She will also be teaching you how to dance. Now you're dismissed." Huey was fuming as he stormed out of the office. For once, I don't blame him. I would be mad too if I had to be some sort of slut. But still, that shit funny. Nigga gotta dress like a slut! Hahaha! Man, that's funny.

"Yo, Huey, wait up!" I yelled down to him. He was all the way down the hall. How that nigga got there so fast will be a mystery.

"Fuck off, dipshit!" Huey called back. Awwe, I made poor Huey mad.

"Awwe, is poor wittle Huwey mad? Awwe, it's okay," I cooed to him playfully, as I finally caught up to him after running. Huey just flipped me off and kept on walking. I got tired of running, so I grabbed his hand and stopped him from walking so fast. Big mistake. This nigga turned around and punched me right in my nose. I clutched it in pain, instantly letting go of his hand.

"Owww! What the fuck was that for?!" I practically yelled at him. Damn, that shit hurt. How you gonna fuck up a nigga like that? Man, this some ole bullshit!

"For being a dick! Dumbass…" He muttered the last part under his breath, but I still heard it.

"Look, nigga, you ain't gon' push me around like that. C'mon, man, what the fuck did I do to you?" I asked him, still clutching my nose. Man, I think this shit broken. This hurt like a bitch!

"Your existence pisses me off. Now stop whining, your nose ain't broken." He said, turning to walk again. I grabbed his hand again, causing him to stop, and turn to look at me. He seemed angry.

"Nigga, what?" He seethed.

"Damn, man, stop walking so damn fast. I just wanted to walk with you." I said to him, letting go of my nose finally. It's true, I do wanna walk with him. If we gon' have to act as a couple fo' a while, then might as well get to know him a little better. Like, his personal things. Like, his favorite foods and…ya'll get what I'm tryna say.

"Why?" Huey asked me with a raised eyebrow.

"Because if we gon' have to act like a couple and shit, might as well let me get to know you a little better." I replied. Huey sighed, allowing me to hold his hand. I blushed at that, but just a little bit. You see, I've never ever made physical contact with Huey, so this was something new. And I can't help but notice how…soft his hand is. Damn, man, what's good with this? Since when do I start holding niggas' hands? This shit gay…oh wait I can't even say that anymore, cuz I gotta kinda be gay for a little while. Might as well get used to holding his hand. We started walking slowly to our office.

"So…what do you wanna know about me?" Huey asked me. I scratched my head, trying to think of a question.

"Uhh…what's your favorite food?" Huey deadpanned at this.

"What kind of question is that?" He asked me, as if I was the stupidest thing that ever walked this earth.

"What you mean? Look, man, I ain't tryna ask you if you had sex or anything…I'm just tryna get to know you better that's all." Huey blushed at my sex comment, trying to hide his face so that I wouldn't see it. I smirked at this.

"Or did you have sex? And with who? Who was the lucky guy?" I asked him, wiggling my eyebrows. He smacked me on the arm. Hard.

"Ow, nigga, what was that for?" I asked him, clutching my arm. Damn, what the fuck am I…a punching bag or some shit like that?
"I'm not answering that question. And I don't have a favorite food in particular. Well…actually, I like pasta. And broccoli, and strawberries, and-"

"Eeew, you like broccoli?! I hate broccoli! That shit looks like a green ass tree, and it taste like ass." I yelled in disgust, completely cutting him off. Huey glared at me, attempting to rip his hand out of mine, but I uncontrollably kept it in my hand. Damn, what is with me?

"Okay, okay, sorry. Continue. So you said you like strawberries and broccoli, and what else?" I asked, tryna keep the conversation cool.

"That's it really…" Huey said, scratching his head. I watched as he did this, staring at his hair. Wow, his hair look soft as fuck…I kinda wanna…touch it. It's got light brown tones in it, and he has a lot of baby hair on his hairline, and-

"RILEY!" I was cut off from my thoughts by an annoyed Huey.

"Huh?" I asked dumbly.

"Were you even listening to me?" He asked.

"Uuuuh….no?" Huey tried to rip his hand from mine again, but I uncontrollably gripped it.

"Aiight, aiight, my bad, yo calm down. Now what was you sayin'?" I asked him. Huey didn't say anything. He just huffed and kept on walking. Trying to keep the conversation cool, I started telling him some of the things that I like.

"Well, I stay with the hot fries, cuz you know, them shits is good, and I like orange soda, cuz that shit's my favorite, and I loooove me some butterfingers! Mmm, those are so good. And they crunchy too. It's all chocolatey and yea…Oh! And then I like Doritos! The cool ranch one is blazin' and-"

"Okay, okay, how can you eat those things? They'll cause…death." See? I told you he says junk food causes death. But some of ya'll niggas didn't believe me. But it's aight. Young Reezy gon' let it slide.

"Look man, those things are good. You be missing out, with yo' broccoli and strawberries and-" Huey slapped my arm again and really tried to break free.

"Nigga, let me go goddammit!" Huey growled out.

"No! See, see, you gotta lighten up now. C'mon, I was just playin' with you." I said, my voice getting all quiet. Huey stopped walking. I stopped too.

"What?" I asked, scratching my head.

"We're here. Could you let go of me now?" He asked me. I reluctantly dropped his hand, but our fingers still touched for a few more seconds, before naturally breaking the contact. Huey cleared his throat and opened the door, then suddenly slammed it shut, and pressed his back up against the door. He was really pissed off, and annoyed at something. I could tell, because he was biting the inside of his lip.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked him, officially weirded out. Is this nigga on his period or something?

"I've got more shit on my desk. Shit that involves me being the…slut…God, I hate that nigga." Huey complained. I stared at him. He stared at me. I busted out laughing. Yo, I'm sorry man, but that's just too funny. I can imagine it being more thongs and crop tops and shit like that. Probly even gave him his very own vibrator, in case he gets horny.

"What the hell is so hilarious this time, Riley?" Huey asked, blushing hard from embarrassment.

"N-nothing man…hehehe…yo can we go in tho? I'm tryna sit down. My feet hurt." I complained. Huey glared at me, before finally opening the door, and walked in. Immediately, I saw another big bag full of stuff on the desk. There was also a note.

"Yo, what that note say?" I asked, too lazy to go over there and read it myself. And plus, a nigga just sat down and got comfortable. Ain't no way Young Reezy gettin' up. Hell no. You must be buggin'.

"It says, 'Here's some more clothing. I forgot to mention this earlier too. You have three days with each other. On the third day, I will send out more agents to come down to Manhattan and bust those men capturing those women, ultimately shutting the club down for good and throwing them in jail for life. And you will also be flying from here to Manhattan at around 5:30. A ride will take you down to the airport at around 2:00, the flight should last about three hours, and you also are staying at the Manhattan hotel. It's quite nice actually. Oh, and there's room service. But feel free to go out to eat if you desire. In each of your bags, you have credit cards. They each hold about 1500 dollars on them, and when you go to purchase something, it will be under your fake identities. It might seem like a lot, but trust me, you will want to buy things. Take it as a gift from me. Have fun!-Mr. Wuncler." Huey finished reading.

"Three days?! Nigga that's a long time! That mean we gon' have to act gay for three days! What is this shit?!" Yo, I'm mad as hell. I don't wanna act like no damn couple for three whole days. Huey's a guy. And I'm a guy. Guy and guy don't mix. It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!

"Yeah, well, at least we gettin' paid." There was a tone in his voice that I couldn't really name. I brushed it off and pulled that credit card out of my costume bag. It was black and sleek. Just the way I like it!

"Hahahaaa! Yes! Just the way I like it!" I exclaimed, kissing the card, before stuffing it in my wallet. I was just about to kick back and relax, when I saw some more bags for me. Oh well, I'll wait til' later to open it up. Right now, I wanna see what Huey got.

"Huey, let's see what yo' bitch ass got. I bet you he got you your very own vibrator, to shove up your gay ass and moan as if it were some guy's big ass cock up your ass! Maybe you can pretend it's the guy you fucked cock that's up yo'-OUCH!" Again, I was attacked by a stapler. Man, niggas just love throwing staplers at me.

"Shut. Up." Huey deadpanned. I glowered at him. Man, his punk ass really got a problem.

"C'mon, let's see what you got!" I really wanna see what this nigga got.

"Alright, alright, shut up!" Huey pulled out regular day clothes this time, even though it was still meant for girls to wear. It consisted of light green dress that was similar to a skater skirt but it was…well a dress, a black leather jacket, a jean jacket, more thongs-damn, what's good with the thongs? Glittery silver stilettos, another skirt, except it was a black skater skirt, white high top converse, and a white chiffon shirt, another dress, except it was a sunset orange color and it was a high low one and the upper body half of it was lace and off white, a pair of Steve Madden brown wedges, and a black long sleeve shirt, a pair of sweatpants, striped ankle socks that came in pink, coffee house green, baby blue, and that Easter purple color (I call it baby purple), Moccasins, and a sweatshirt that said, 'Shut the hell up,' on it. I guess that's for lounging or something.

"Well…that was decent at least, except for the thongs." Huey concluded.

"Yeah, you right. I thought it was gonna be all slutty and shit." I said.

"Waaiiit…we still have another bag…Goddammit! Okay, let's see what's in this one." Huey reluctantly grabbed the other bag and began pulling out more clothes. Oh, okay here are the slutty things! Ha!

He pulled out a skimpy little white dress that was long sleeves, it looked like it would be fitted, a very short neon green pencil skirt, and a white belly shirt. Huey cringed at the outfits.

"You gotta be fucking real right now…" Was all Huey managed to say. I just stared at the clothing items. To be honest, I think that white dress is gon' look hot on him, showing off those legs, the curves, that ass when he's dancin' on me…wait, what? What the fuck was all that about?! I'm not gay! I'm not gay!

"Yo, Riley! Damn, nigga, what's got you all caught up in the moment?" Huey asked, slightly concerned. I gulped and raised my eyes up to his.

"Uh…nothing…" I said. Damn man I need to go get checked out. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Huuueeeeeyy, are you ready to go?!" An annoyingly high pitched, fake ass voice chimed in. We both cringed at the sound.

"Who the fuck is that?" I whispered. Huey shrugged. Then it dawned on me. Oooh, it's that Jane bitch or whatever the fuck her name is.

"It's me, Jane! Are you ready to go?" She asked again. Huey sighed before grabbing his stuff and opening the door.

"Oh! There you are! Let's go! Ooo, this is gonna be soo much fun! I'm so excited!" She grabbed Huey by the hand, and before I could even really figure out what the hell she was wearing, her and Huey were gone like the wind. I sat back in my chair and sighed. Yo, I'm kind of excited to see how Huey gon' look after his little…adventures. I mean, he gon' come back with…straight hair. Imagine that nigga with straight hair. I can't. Man, I just hope he has enough sense not to karate chop the bitch in half. He just might lose his job, and then I'm gon' have to get paired up with another bitch ass nigga. Something dark in me began to bubble up at the thought. I might have known Huey for only two years, but I can't imagine myself with another partner. That shit don't feel right.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I went through my bags and pulled out shit similar to the outfit I first pulled out in the office.

…