Back from my break. This is part 1/2 for Act 2 Finale and answers the mystery of Riley. It's late but Merry Christmas everyone, was celebrating the holidays so sorry for hiatus. Pardon any typos.
2 years ago, figures around a table have been interested in the retired terrorist's repetoire. But the revolutionary is no stranger to powerful men keeping an eye on him.
"Quite a mysterious figure."
"Then perhaps now he should be interested in our endeavours?"
"Let us not be too hasty."
"We should give the boy a chance, we may never get another opportunity once he learns how to elude us."
Maroon and emerald hold hands inside an empty apartment. They had briefly left Woodcrest to take a look at their new rented home, ready to start a new chapter in their lives.
They heard knocking on their front door and with nodding glances they opened it. "Good evening Mr. Freeman, Ms. Dubois. May I have a moment of your time?" Two men in suits are at the door.
They cautiously discussed matters, both parties were unsure and weary of each other's intentions. The afro-headed man, always vigilant, greeted with menacing stares and his partner does the same. They were then handed a large-sized black envelope, with small bright white letters it said Syndicate.
"Not interested." Huey said and returned the envelope back.
"If you ever wish to reconsider, here is our card. Give us a call if you change your mind. Have a nice day Mr. Freeman, Ms. Dubois."
They handed him a small business card instead which he begrudingly accepts, the card was completely blank except for a phone number. With that the two men walked away.
Syndicate.
Riley palmed the small business card in his hand. "Syn-di-cate." Riley read the business card and spotted a phone number on the back.
He saw the card in the trash but Riley's instincts suggested it looked important. For all he knew, the number could've been a booty call for a secret gay strip club or some shit. He doesn't joke around whenever he called his brother gay.
But it was worth giving a call, that card looked like some James Bond shit.
"Good afternoon. Mr. Freeman." A voice answered.
Riley had a wicked smile on his face. "Yeah- that's me. Huey Freeman."
Present Day
"I- I messed up! I fucking messed up... I'm coming back to your apartment... Shit! They're following me! Get fucking ready nigga! I'm bringing them to you!"
The two listen to Riley's plea for help, fully describing his scenario and the threat that's approaching their home.
"Jazmine." Huey runs his hand on her frizzy, unkept hair. In the ember-like glow in their bedroom, her hair shines brightly in the morning. She looks at him with attracted eyes,
Huey continues. "You should go."
Riley shouts into the phone, with a panicked voice "Fuck! These niggas think they the Crips! Bitch ass motherfuckers ain't-" Gunshots can be heard from the phone call. "Shit! Eat my fucking ass! You ain't gon catch me! Ya'll ain't shit!"
Jazmine stands up from their bed. Riley is in trouble and he's going to drag calamity to their apartment. Although terrified, she's accepted her situation, Riley is her friend and she wants to get him out of this mess no matter who is at fault. But nonetheless she has an overwhelming concern, a sinking feeling towards Huey.
She asks. "What are you gonna do?"
He sighs. "Get my stupid brother out of trouble."
"I-I know you keep guns... somewhere in our apartment... Huey?"
"That's why you need to leave."
Jazmine hugs him. She can't help it, she's a crybaby, a few tears flow down through her cheek. "But... Be safe?"
"Yeah... get off Jazmine... let me move."
Huey walks to a hidden compartment, in times of Jazmine's absence he has smuggled parts of his arsenal into underneath their bedroom floor. Deep down, he's livid. Once again Riley manages to find a way to weasel his way into his life. Like a flu he comes seasonally with a disaster, always trying to get himself killed in search of personal gain.
But Huey has long given up trying to babysit his brother and bail him out of his own mess. He has retired from being his brother's caretaker, yet now he has no choice but to save him from his own mess. Whoever is chasing Riley is coming to their apartment. It will threaten Jazmine and whatever semblance of a home they've built together.
Jazmine sits on the edge of their bed. She used to be so scared of weapons, anything that looked violent was scary to her. But somewhere along the way she has gone numb with Huey's hostile nature. And as she watches him take out a box under the floorboards of their closet, she is both unfazed and merely annoyed at his behavior.
She crosses her arms. "We've been sleeping inside an armory this whole time?!"
Huey opens the box and pulls out a single pistol from the wider selection. "You need to leave."
She tries to change the subject. "We're gonna have a serious discussion about this Freeman!"
"Leave. Exit. Go. How many times do I have to tell you?"
She pleads, with eyes and words. "But- Huey... please-"
He scowls, yet she glares angrily in response.
"No. I'm not leaving" She responds.
"Jazmine-
"No!"
He holsters his weapon and makes a loud sigh—even with a loaded gun he feels so powerless "Don't make this difficult. Go away."
*Slap* Jazmine slaps him, the sound rang through the air like a bomb. Without warning, Huey feels a sharp pain through his cheek, it almost made him lose his balance.
He's expecting Jazmine to apologize, to cry, or to feel bad about hurting him. He's expecting her to turn into a sobbing mess, full of panic and regret at her actions. Yet as he regains his vision he almost sees a fiery red in the absence of her emerald eyes.
"You're gonna get yourself killed Huey... who cares about Riley? He lied about France now he's dragging bad people with guns to our home! L-let's... just... let's just leave? Okay? Together?"
He turns around, his back facing her.
Jazmine makes a realization. "I can't stop you... can't I?"
"He's my brother. I'm pissed off too... but he's family."
She places her hand on his waist, through the fabric she can feel the gun underneath the holster. "Just... be safe... okay? I- I don't want to see you getting stabbed or shot or injured or-
"I know."
"What if you get hurt? What if you get sent to the hospital?! People were shooting at Riley! There are a million different ways that can go wrong! Aren't you scared?!"
Riley crawls up the stairs like a dog, he has been sprinting for 20 minutes but his destination is just a few more flights of stairs. He hates how he has to come begging for his brother, he has always looked at himself as independent, someone who doesn't need anybody's help. Yet for all his bravado and stupidity, he got himself to a place of desperation.
He wanted to get away from the gangster lifestyle. To move out of the sad lonely apartment of his brother and escape his parasitic nature towards his brother. He had been leeching off of Granddad and as a result of his death, he had been leeching off of Huey. He wanted to get away from the downwards spiral of his parents' death and move on from being a loud-mouthed wannabe gangster who didn't take no for an answer.
Yet, after pissing off 100 powerful men and his ass taking the fastest escape route out of Italy, he is back to square one. With his sorry excuse of a Freeman begging for his brother for help.
The lights were off, only the dim light from a distant window illuminated the building's vast staircase. Like a higher power from the heavens, Riley turns his head upwards to see a shadow cast down upon him.
"You're being followed." The shaodw judges him, it speaks in a voice that snarled at Riley.
"No shit, Sherlock. Fuck you and fuck this whole Punisher—Frank Castle bullshit."
Huey eyes his brother, on his hands and knees, clinging to the stairs as if he'll fall. His hair keeps to a messy cornrows, with scars and bruises sprawling across his face.
He almost didn't recognize his own brother. "You're one of the biggest fools I have ever met."
"Fuck you. You look like a stupid ass bitch gay nigga."
"And you look fucking pathetic."
Riley stands up, he had spent enough time languishing on the stairs.
"Aight... fine. I know. I'm the stupidest nigga in the world. If Granddad wuz here he woulda given me an ass whooping... I need your help Huey... I-I- I'm sorry."
Huey sighs, Riley is right, Granddad would've beat him till his hand fell off. Now Huey is the only family left that's going to take care of his brother.
Huey stares him down, the suspense and his lack of words gnaws on the back of Riley's head. He has been running away from his mistakes and turning to family for help but he never realized that Huey might be inclined to put a bullet in his head after all the things he has done.
He finally responds. "We're leaving, let's go."
"Don't you have any questions? That's it? You ain't mad?"
Huey asks. "What did you do?"
Riley breaks eye contact. "Long story."
"Then save it for later."
"But they're coming... real mobsters... mafia shit. They're coming to your apartment."
"They're coming after you. If we leave then they'll follow. Don't be a fucking idiot and we'll find a place to lay low."
"You said people were chasing you."
The two are inside Huey's car. For a busy urban street, it is tame as it can be. Not many cars, not many people. Just a simple morning day in Washington D.C.
"They won't stop till they drag my ass back to Italy."
For some time now Riley has been living a lie, and in fact he has been living under the shadow of his brother. He lied about going to France, he lied about going to some military program.
"Italy?" Huey asks.
"I was with the Mafia."
"Good fucking grief..." Huey mumbles curses under his breath. "You stupid fucking idiot..."
"They paid good."
"And what happened to all that soul-searching bullshit that you kept talking about? You found your purpose in life with pimping women and money laundering?!"
"Nigga fuck you."
"You are hopeless. And fucking helpless! I've grown as a person, I've started my career and my education meanwhile you've been in who the fuck knows where, suckling on the balls of some demented mafia boss. You are a fucking disgrace."
Riley punches Huey straight on the head. Marking his 2nd assault in a single day. The punch rattles him, and as the driver, the car sharply swerves to the left before Huey regains his steering.
"You been living a perfect life. I fucking know. I watch all your protests and bullshit rallies on the news when I got the chance. You got a girlfriend who turned fine as fuck, people out there thinking you the next Martin Luther King and shit. Huey, you living the dream."
Riley has been a little unstable for the past few days. Being pursuited halfway across the world has taken a toll on him. Riley continues. "Your life is fucking perfect. I'm jealous okay?! Your shitface is gay and you still a little bitch but I'm still fucking jealous. I thought I made a mistake going to some distant country but seeing you do your shit made me want to stay. I wanted to make make a new life for myself in Italy. Like a clean slate. Nigga as far as I see it you and Jazz are punk ass bitches thinking you can judge me for being a nigga doing hustles."
"So it's my fault you're knee deep in shit?! It's my fault that some mafia thugs are out to merc my stupid-donkey shit for brains of a brother?!" Huey replies forebodingly.
"Y-yeah..." Riley has to admit that Huey changed. Something about his anger catches him off guard, whether because he's still seething from the punch or a more unnerving pressure courtesy of his mature age.
Riley for a single second becomes scared when the severity of his situation collapses on top of him. People are out to kill him, he's out of money, and he's fighting the only person left in the world who's still willing to help him.
Riley calms down, his small outburst drags away from his mind. In truth however, Huey's name has played a part in the biggest mistake of Riley's life "They're... not chasing after my stupid ass... They're chasing after... Huey Freeman- I stole your identity."
Jazmine is sitting down on the couch. She feels like Mary Jane, the helpless little girlfriend, the mere spectator to her Peter Parker. She feels like a troubled housewife, who just kissed her army-husband goodbye as he heads off to a distant war.
Give him a call after 2 hours he said. Make breakfast and finish signing his stack of papers he said. She can play the supporting role in his story, she has no complaints being his female companion. But a gnawing feeling creeps into her mind, a feeling he'll get hurt or he'll need her help.
She didn't quite understand her actions. She didn't understand why she slapped him. After a cup of tea and a long hot shower, she still couldn't make sense of what got a hold of her.
They never get physical during an argument. No hitting, no pushing. Just words and cold stares. But to think that the happy, giggly, and sobbing girl struck first blood in their relationship left a sour taste in the back of her tongue. It's a mildly unpleasant feeling that's going to ring throughout her entire day.
While she can never truly grasp her emotions, she does hold a revelation for herself; she doesn't want to lose Huey. If something happens to her angry maroon man then she'll probably flood the entire city with her tears.
Cat! I'm a kitty cat! Meow meow meow! Cat! I'm a kitty cat! Meow meow—It's Jazmine's ringtone. Her hand rushes to her phone, anticipating Huey's call. But to her relief, a different caller shows up on the screen.
It's a call from Freeman Foundation. "Hello? Jazmine Dubois speaking."
She recognizes the voice, one of her employees speaks through the call. "Sorry for calling—Jazmine... I- umm... I couldn't to get to Mr. Freeman's number... it's really really urgent."
"What is it? Is something wrong at the office?" Jazmine asks.
"Two guys showed up at the front desk... they were asking for Mr. Freeman!"
Panic sets in. Paralyzed and shocked, as if walls are closing in and crushing her. "Did you tell t-them? Did you tell them our address? Our numbers?"
"Of course not! But... those men meant serious business-
*Thud* Jazmine shrieks. She hears a large thud coming from the front door.
"Open up!"
What seemed to be a thud was actually a loud knock. The voice sounds foreign to her, yet threatening and looming.
Jazmine is no stranger to anger. Huey is her personal storm cloud. He makes cute scowls and sighs like a tired granpa. Jazmine is familiar with Huey's anger, he takes care of her, loves her, and his disdain and harsh attitude is simply how he expresses his love.
However, the man at the other side of the door is hostile. A hostile anger. One full of threats and curses. But Jazmine is no stranger to anger—she's not some sort of helpless damsel. And with Huey in her thoughts. She answers the door.
"Are you Ms. Jazmine Dubois?"
"Yes."
"Tell us. Where is Huey Freeman?"
Her heart doubles its pace. Is she going to die?
"Excuse me?"
"I suggest you answer our questions."
These people have guns. Two men in suits. They found her address, they found her apartment number. To have strangers call her by name and yell demands will make anyone get goosebumps.
She stands her ground, she's strong. "I don't know... where my ex is. Listen here, I know that stupid asshole is always hanging around with the wrong people. But I don't want to get involved! Huey and I broke up months ago and frankly I don't give a hoot where that asshole is!"
The two men give each other looks, questioning if they have the right information.
"As far as we know, his name is registered to this apartment. Ms. Dubois, you work for him and you have a very public relationship."
"Are you kidding me? I don't want to be anywhere near that moron again!" Jazmine replies, she's a terrible liar.
"How so?"
"He cheated on me with some rich blonde girl! I kicked that lying cheater out of my apartment! If you two are looking for payback then I wish you good luck!"
She rarely lies, but if her life depended on it then at the very least she tries not to stutter. Hopefully she made a good enough performance. Jazmine thinks through her options. Part of her wants to slam the door or run away, or start the fight with a cheap shot and kick for the groin. Her life flashes before her eyes, thinking that any moment they'll pull out a gun to shoot her or pin her down and kidnap her.
1 second passes. The two men share looks.
2 seconds passes. She can feel her right hand start sweating on the door knob.
3 seconds.
4 seconds.
She breaks the silence. "Are you going to leave or come in? I have peace cobbler baking in the oven so if you'll excuse me I'm gonna make sure not to burn the building down."
"No. We'll be leaving."
"Huh..." Jazmine maintains her scowl. "Have a nice day then. Good luck finding him."
"Oh we'll find him." One of the men nods. "Expect another visit if we turn up empty-handed. Thank you for your time Ms. Dubois."
In an abandoned train station, in a deserted patch of land in the city, the two Freemans make camp. Whoever is chasing them will come to a place far from any bystanders. If shit is going down, Huey is at peace that random people won't be in harm's way.
Huey looks around his surroundings, it is no coincidence that Riley picked this place. It's an old train yard. Full of decommisioned cargo trains and rusted walls of metal. Huey can see Riley's art, the graffiti that he made during his time in D.C.
Art about Granddad. Art about guns. Art about random shit and stupid abstract colors that makes Huey's head ache. The graffiti expresses Riley's personality, Huey can tell that his art reflects the mind within this brother. Just like his art, his brother is stupid, dumb, and soul-draning.
"Yeah I did a lot of art. It's fucking cool right?" Riley says.
"You led me here to brag about your street gallery? Good grief."
"Hey, if we about to pop some nigga's heads then at least we gon do it with style."
Is his brother redeemable? Riley stole his identity. Confided with criminals and tarnished his name. Riley posed as Huey Freeman to get a position inside a crime syndicate. Then he came fleeing like a weasel once they found out his real identity.
RIley was living the life that Riley Freeman dreamed of. Full of money, infamy, and power. Then one day all of it came crashing down once his boss saw a video of Huey's protest in America. Riley had tricked everyone, made everyone look like fools. And yet even in the face of danger he treats the serious act of killing and taking someone else's life in such a nonchalant way.
Huey hates his brother. But he's the only family left. Huey doesn't know if he should just ditch him or save him. Huey is not some sort of white knight who fights for justice, he absolutely despises Riley and the hatred only increased throughout the years. Yet, deep within his heart, he knows he can't leave his brother to die. No matter how much Riley deserves it.
Perhaps it's thanks to Jazmine. Or perhaps deep within his heart harbors a big brother mentality towards Riley. Nonetheless, his scowl can't get any meaner.
"Hey." Riley calls out.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks Huey... fo' sticking up with me. I didn't have any options left except run back to your gay ass... thanks for being here."
"...you're welcome?" Huey sighs.
"How are we gonna deal with those niggas? Did you bring a gun or some shit?"
Huey states. "I have an idea."
"Oh yeah?"
"Tell me... did you wear a fake afro while you impersonated me?"
Riley bats an eyebrow at the strange question. "Nigga what? Of course not, I just have my normal haircut."
*Ring ring ring* Huey's phone interrupts his train of thought.
He answers. "Hello? Jazmine?"
She shouts. "People came to our apartment!"
"What? Are you safe? Are you alright? Jazmine?!"
"I'm fine! I'm fine! I'm not hurt!"
Huey lets out a sigh of relief. "...what happened?"
"They were looking for you? I'm so confused! I thought they were looking for Riley! What is going on Huey?!"
"I'll let you know when this whole thing blows over." Huey eyes Riley angrily, if something had happened to Jazmine because of his brother's mistake then all hell would have broke loose.
"S-should I call the police? I- I'm not happy about this... I-I'm scared Huey... I'm scared for you."
He tries to comfort her. "I'll be alright."
"If they don't find you... they said they'll come back to our apartment."
"I have a plan."
Jazmine shouts through the phone. "But everytime you have plans... I'm usually involved... I want to help!"
"Please Jazmine... just stay there... I'll be careful."
She whimpers. "But- but- but-
"Please." He pleads.
"Love you... be safe okay?"
"Alright. Love you too." Huey ends the call.
"Bitch you gay ass nigga and Mariah make me want to throw up."
The moment of truth. Jazmine can either stay in the apartment or help him. She's a terrible liar, that's what she keeps telling herself. Along with hurting Huey and lying to those men, she's surprising herself. She finally figured out why she slapped him, she doesn't want to see him hurt. She wanted him to stay in their apartment, she wanted to say that he's stupid and that he shouldn't be putting his life in danger for the sake of a brother who's been nothing but a source of grief and worry since his disappearance.
How the tables have turned. Huey is out there, being the emotional one. Saving his family. Jazmine stayed in the apartment, full of reasoning and paranoia. But if the tables are to be turned, she's not going to sit idly and wait for the aftermath. All hell will break loose if something happens to Huey.
She opens Huey's laptop. She feels very clever with the next things she'll do. As she inputs the password and taps a few buttons, she opens some sort of GPS tracking app.
Huey has always been a little on the paranoid side. She was geniunely surprised when she learned that Huey is more paranoid than her. Living with him for almost 2 years educated her on topics that she never would've learned without Huey's paranoia.
He also made sure to track each other's locations, he made sure to have countless security measures and failsafes. Huey always mentions that people are out to get him, either the government or some agency is watching his every move. It creeped Jazmine out at one point but if she's dating Huey Freeman then she'll definitely get the whole package.
She smiles at the GPS tracker inside their car. Even if it is a little creepy, she loves Huey's protective nature. She loves that angry overprotective dorkiness.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"I have an anonymous tip." Jazmine uses one of Huey's voice changers and with his programs she masks her cell phone's caller signature.
Jazmine continues, in a deep synthetic voice. "I believe there will be a shootout at this address... please send help immediately..."
Huey's plan, already in motion. The two brothers stand in an open area. Rusted trains on each side. In front of them are a dozen armed men, with automatic rifles on hand.
Whoever Riley pissed off had a lot of power. They have Mafia-like attire, with black trench coats and fedoras. The area brandishes a threatening silence, no birds in the air, no distant cars humming through the streets. Just the simple flick of the wind and panicked breaths.
"Huey Freeman... or should I say... Riley Freeman?"
"Yeah what's up fuckface, long time no see."
"You impersonated your own brother, stole millions of fucking dollars, fucked the boss's daughter for Christ's sake..."
"Yeah yeah fucking boring monologue... you a bitch and that bitch loved black dick. Shut your mouth and lick my balls nigga."
The afro-headed man is genuinely surprised at his brother's words. Who knew he could've emulated such a dirty mouth.
"The boss said we can't kill you. Said we should take you alive. But if you're gonna continue then I'd happily defy my orders."
"Yeah the boss' daughter was happily on my dick, she was defying orders too. Defying these nuts haha nigga!"
"Final warning. Come with us and no one gets hurt." The armed men point their guns at the two brothers.
"Aight... fine... stupid niggas." The cornrow-haired man holds his hands up and starts walking towards them. So far, Huey's plan is going smoothly.
Suddenly, loud sirens can be heard from afar. Then without a moment's notice, police swarm the area. Several DC police are in the scene, pointing towards the men and calling them to stand down.
The mobsters curse in Italian and nod. "You called the police."
The Freeman shakes his head fervently. "I dunno why they here."
And in a flash of lightning. Huey witnesses a gunshot. It zooms straight pass him and lands squarely on his brother's shoulder. A loud thud can be heard as he falls to the ground. From the looks of the gunshot wound. The bullet may prove to be fatal.
These people know how to shoot. They know how to make a shot fatal.
In the chaos, Jazmine takes a taxi. With a 50 dollar tip, the taxi driver zooms past the massive police convoy. The calamity and the chaos is making her head spin—her mind has been worrying nonstop.
She arrives to the crime scene. The lights of the siren overshadow the clear light of the sun. From the distance she sees an afro-headed man in a stretcher as he is dragged away to an ambulance.
Her heart almost dropped. It almost fell to the ground.
Huey
She pushes herself through the police lines. Begging to the policemen to see him. But she is too late, the paramedics are urgent, if they had any chance of saving their patient, they had to drive to the hospital immediately.
Jazmine sits in the police car. The best the police could offer is give a ride to the hospital. The moment the police car parked, she began to run like a crazed lunatic. Nurses lit the way like lighthouses with their bright-colored scrub uniforms—they point the way to the Emergency Room.
"Huey! Huey!" It's all her fault, something had gone wrong. If she hadn't gotten involved and called the police, everything might have been alright.
"Who are you?!" The doctors asks.
"I'm his girlfriend! Let me see him! PLEASE!" She begs to the doctors. In the distance she sees a man being wheeled away to the operating room.
"He's undergoing surgery. We have to get the bullet out. Please wait in the lobby miss. We'll notify you when he's stable."
Hours passed. But to Jazmine, it felt like days inside the waiting room. She passed the time by praying.
Now she sits beside his bed. The afro-headed man is laying on a hospital bed, like a scene from one of Jazmine's nightmares—IVs and machines are hooked up to his body, his life literally on a tightrope.
She cried when she sat in the waiting room. She cried when the doctor explained his situation. She cried on the way to his hospital room. And she's crying while she sits by his side.
She stutters through her tears. "Huey... i-it's... this- this is all my fault..."
He groans, the sound made Jazmine's heart skip a beat.
"Huey?"
He's rising from his sleep. Pushing past the aneasthetics and pushing past his slumber.
"Huey... say something... please... I'm here."
"Y-you y-" He mumbles.
"I'm here! It's me... Jazmine..."
"Y-you... fuck..." He grunts.
"Huey?"
"Y-you stupid fucking bitch..."
Jazmine gasps. He's wearing an afro but he sounds like Riley. Something is terribly wrong.
He continues. "Mariah... fuck... you called the fucking popo... shit..."
Huey's plan worked, despite the setback with the police. While Riley struggles to move his arm, Jazmine took the hint, she yanks on his hair to reveal a wig. A large afro wig.
There's no maroon in Riley's eyes. It's just a sad looking brown. Huey's plan was to turn himself in and take Riley's place.
Juey: A little bit of both. I want to do oneshots but still connect them. So far I'm just building their characters as grownup Huey and Jazmine. But yeah, more drama is gonna take place now. Riley and Jazmine will have a mini arc next chapter and I have a major plot planned for the future.