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Season 1 Finale
“What did you do!?” Stucky shouts, a ball of anger surrounding him as he storms into Danny’s hanger, watching him polish a monkey wrench. “My father has been running around the house all night talking about ‘Matt’s alive this’ and ‘Matt’s alive that’” Stucky replies, the rolled eyes of Danny not viewed favorably in his own eyes, “what the hell did you do?” Tossing the wet rag back onto his bench, Danny throws his hands out, keeping his answer brief. “I fucked up” Danny replies, walking past the addict and returning to his plane, tossing his wrench into the toolbox beside him. “I hesitated to kill the bitch and she must have put the puzzle together from there” Danny explains, reserving his seat beside the plane’s fuselage before beginning to undress, “as far as I know, you’re still in the clear, though.” Eyes wandering off to some corner of the hanger, Stucky asks where the duo takes it from this point, a question that a now-shirtless Danny becomes invested in. “Have you deluded yourself into thinking that we’re on the same team here?” Danny inquires, looking back to a silent Stucky, his dark, bloodshot eyes returning the look, “we’re on completely different hemispheres, there’s just something in the middle worth working together on.” “Exactly, so we’re on the same team for now!” Stucky replies, prompting Danny to slam his hand into the front of his plane, convincing himself that Stucky has begun to look too far into their conversations. “We’re props to use for our own best interest!” Danny shouts, the veins in his neck revealing themselves to the addict, the running rivers from his wrist to his bicep protruding from his skin, “when what’s asked is done, that’s it… We’re nothing to each other.” “Listen, I get the history of our factions, but we can be great allies for each other” Stucky explains, trying to use the negotiator tips his father had taught him over the years to broker a deal, something Danny isn’t interested in. “You’re nothing but a power-hungry, drug-addicted criminal to me, and I should be nothing more than a murderous, high-ranking criminal to you” Danny explains, stepping within inches of Stucky’s face, “we’re not friends, and we’re never going to be.” Returning to his redressing station, Danny throws a shirt over his nude torso whilst Stucky’s mind travels elsewhere, a sobriety-like numbness coming over him inexplicably. Without a word, Stucky walks away, removing himself from the hanger and leaving the space to Danny once again. Knowing of the addict’s departure, Danny looks back at the entrance, watching it be slammed shut from the outside, an expression of conviction worn upon his dirt-covered face. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “Anyone follow you here?” Matt asks, dark shades over his eyes and a full-black suit worn over his body, Danny approaching his recolored vehicle. “I changed the route, I adjusted my pace and I’ve seen downtown six times… No one should be following me” Danny replies, entering the vehicle as Matt dies out his joint, grinding it beneath his heel before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Updates?” Danny asks, Matt’s eyes still hidden behind the glasses, his head directed towards the road, thus giving Danny the feeling of disconnect between the two. “New phone, new provider, new everything… Same name, at least” Matt replies, dominant hand over the steering wheel whilst the other resides on his own thigh, “how about you?” “Stucky came to visit me two nights ago” Danny replies, his reply peaking Matt’s interest, an inquiry into the reasoning only bringing about more confusion. “He wanted to know where we, as a team, were taking the next step now that my cover’s been blown” Danny replies, prompting Matt to ask about the man’s answer. “I told him to, in my own way, fuck off” Danny replies, earning a fit of laughter from the stoned driver. “Welp, that’s just wonderful for us” Matt replies, an eye roll coming off Danny immediately thereafter. “Says the guy that got ghosted by the woman he saved the job of by uprooting our entire drug trade” Danny cuts back, watching Matt’s glasses be softly pulled down the bridge of his nose. “Touchee” Matt quips, pushing his glasses back up as his eyes fall back upon the road, their drive taking them out of Cambridge. “Care to tell me where we’re going?” Danny asks, looking at the man, who one would never be able to tell was as high as a kite. “Patience, my long-time friend” Matt replies, winking through his glasses towards Danny with a smile, “it’s my long-overdue birthday gift to you… From about seven years ago.” An amused nod offered back, Danny rests back in his chair and sinks into the plushy seat, head rested against the soft headrest as the long road ahead grows shorter with each passing mile. Tires kicking up sand, Matt brings his car to a complete stop just outside an unmarked building in the middle of nowhere, a near twenty-mile stretch of empty, vacant roads leading to this oasis in the forest. Tapping Danny on the shoulder, Matt awakens his friend from his slumber as he opens the vehicle door, emerging from his car with one set of keys in his hand. “I figured what our plans are bound to call for would need an upgrade from that club of yours” Matt explains, approaching the front door. “Did you buy me Charlie’s chocolate factory, Matt?” Danny asks, a sarcastic grin coming over his face as the key turns in the lock, granting the pair entry into the shade-bountiful building. With the flick of a few lightswitches, Matt illuminates each room and corridor one-by-one, eventually bringing the tour around to the prized portion. Designed like a war room, circular walls of whiteboards, blackboards and glassboards, the middle of the building is set up perfectly to prepare for their grandest of plans. “We may have the E.H.P.G nipping on our heels and an ever-present Gilcrest problem on our hands, but our plans are still to be moved forward” Matt explains, leaving Danny’s side to stand in the middle of the floorspace, “our heist shall be planned from within these comforts.” “You bought me a heist-planning room?” Danny replies, cautiously marching down the concrete steps to the floor, “are we in Grand Theft Auto or is this still real life?” With a chuckle, Matt throws his arm around his friend’s shoulder, leading him to the collection of writing boards, painting out a picture of what the space will look like when all is relocated. “The beautiful thing about being surrounded on every end by miles of trees is that no one just accidentally stumbles upon a drug den in the middle of nowhere” Matt replies, “unless we draw attention ourselves, no one’s going to find this baby with anything less than a constantly updating satellite picture.” Silent, Danny just takes in the look of the room, something deep within him earning a sense of accomplishment. “We still need this be kept quiet about, though” Matt explains, breaking Danny away from the moment, his eyes wandering back to the man that’s made this possible, “we still have a rodent problem on our hands.” Head hung, Danny nods to himself, looking back with an empathetic expression, trying to gode Matt into accepting the offer he’s about to lay on the table. “I can meet with them again” Danny begins, already seeing the disapproval come over Matt’s posture, his sunglasses being removed from his tilted head as Danny continues to speak. “I may not have been able to get something out of them when putting on a persona, but I may if I approach them from a genuine angle” Danny explains, calling for Matt’s name to ensure eye contact, “if I can get to your father, I’m pretty sure I can pull something from his brain.” “Danny, you’ve already damn near gotten killed doing that” Matt replies, shaking his head in outright refusal, both hands on his hips, “I’m not going to let you do that.” Defeated, Danny lets out an exhale as his chin aims high, Matt not giving up on his efforts to persuade Danny to drop the idea. “Look at everything, I know something inside you feels justified after all these years” Matt explains, speaking from the same level as his friend, “don’t risk that now that it’s finally here.” “It’s here because I’ve taken gambles that have paid off throughout all of this” Danny replies, connecting the pay off with the work to achieve it. “How much longer will it be before all these years of gambling catch up with you… How much longer until it catches up with all of us?” Matt asks, reminding Danny of the amount of failed bets that come with every one instance of a successful one. “You’re not playing with house money anymore, now you’re putting your life on these gambles” Matt continues, approaching his friend and resting a hand upon his shoulder, “stop pulling cards from the deck and hold what you’ve got.” Silent, Danny looks at Matt with a defeated face, the corner of his lip being pressed between his teeth as a subtle nod is given from Danny, an unwanted acceptance offered. | “Kings of Cambridge Therapeutic Center, this is Angela” the receptionist greets, a chime from the front door ringing through the lobby as she continues to speak. Approaching the front desk, Michael stands with a coat in his arms just beyond a large pane of sliding glass, watching the woman leave her seat to greet him. “I have an appointment with Darlene Jane at 1:30” Michael greets, pointed towards a mostly-empty crowd of seats off to the side of the room. Scanning the chairs, Michael takes a seat across from a lady in the corner of the waiting area, her eyes directed towards her phone, an unhappy expression over her face as she looks into the screen. “Those are lovely shoes” Michael says, a poor attempt at breaking the ice, watching the confused young girl’s face look up at him with her eyebrows raised. “They’re twenty dollar shoes from some department store, but thanks” the client replies, looking back towards her screen, trying her best to brush off the man’s poor conversation starter. “Do you have a name?” Michael asks, his polite nature being read through easily by the younger woman, who looks back at him with a genuine confusion. “Brook” the girl replies, again glancing back down at her phone, trying to get such gestures across as her way of telling the man not to speak to her. Kicking one leg over another, Michael goes silent for a few seconds before starting the conversation again, this time with details the girl actually takes interest in. “I’ve heard that my son was a therapist here for a short time” Michael quips, Brook’s eyes finally leaving her screen, wandering off into the distant corners of the room as Michael continues to speak, “did you happen to know anyone here named Matthew?” Lips less tightly pressed against each other, Brook looks back towards the man, her head slowly turning towards him, answer leaving her lips. “My therapist’s name is Perry, sorry” Brook replies, the older man beside her nodding as he looks away, any further possible lines of dialogue halted the moment Darlene emerges from the back of the building. “Michael?” Darlene calls out, earning the man’s attention. “It was nice to meet you, Brook” Michael says, tapping her knee before passing Darlene, entering the back. Looking back at Brook in a moment, not purposefully but rather out of instinct, Darlene watches the girl extend her pressed-together fingers and run them across her neck, warning Darlene that the man is not to be trusted. Squinting, Darlene looks back towards the man before glancing back at Brook, taking her warning seriously. In a moment of consideration, Darlene looks around the room before reaching into her mouth, a chewed piece of gum being pressed between her fingers. Showing Brook, Darlene presses the gum into the doorknob’s lock and lets the door slide shut, failing to lock as Darlene enters the back. Looking around the room, Brook checks her surroundings before waiting a few seconds, dashing for the door and following closely behind the pair. | Parking his car, Matt approaches his front door until a voice calls out for his attention, leaving the man to stop walking, slowly turning towards the least-lit corner of his porch. “My father’s on a hunting spree looking for you” Stucky calls back, emerging from the darkness with his hands up, Matt immediately asking him what he wants. “I’m not here to start a fight or-” Stucky begins, stopped in his tracks by Matt’s response, reiterating his question. “What do you want, Stucky?” Matt asks again, Stucky’s hands falling to his side, limp by his waist. “I’ve heard about your rat problem and I want you to get to the bottom of it” Stucky replies, his motivations questioned in the same breath. “If the information you’re sharing gets back to my dad, it puts a massive stunt in my plans” Stucky explains, clarifying his end of the bargain, “but more importantly, when I take over the Gilcrest trade, I want no bad blood with the Table.” “I think you’re about one line of children too late for that one, kid” Matt replies, dropping his coat onto the ground before approaching Stucky, briefcase still in hand, voice lowered. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re planning on sticking it out here, so we won’t be sharing the same territory for long” Stucky explains, leaning forward to lower his voice to a mere whisper, “I genuinely think there could be room for the two of us to help each other when that day comes.” Almost laughing at the suggestion, Matt tells Stucky that he doesn’t have the first clue about anything relating to his Table. “You can run off like a scared dog, but you don’t to turn around once we rule the roost asking for handouts” Matt explains, one finger pointed towards the ground, his words being bound by the support of the ground he stands on, “you know exactly who the rat is, and we’ll find out without anything you have to say.” Turning around, Matt begins to walk away until his feet stop moving again, Stucky’s words calling out for him to rethink what he knows. “You’re wrong about how I figured out you were the head of the table” Stucky calls back, watching Matt’s head turn over his shoulder, “I wasn’t given that information by anyone other than you.” Squinting, Matt looks towards Stucky as if he were wearing the same jumpsuit he escaped the local prison in. “What the hell are you talking about, I’d never said a word to you in my life before you approached me!” Matt yells back, refusing to care about what his neighbors can overhear. “Your death certificate was signed by an doctor that went to jail on corruption charges” Stucky explains, the first flaw found being nothing in comparison to the second, “and I’ve known you were Michael’s son the entire time, Matt… I’m an addict and a psycho, not an idiot.” Nostrils flaring, Matt walks up to Stucky, who lifts his shirt to reveal a gun, his intentions for visiting Matt not being those of murderous tendencies. “I’m telling you the truth, Matt… Those things were the same reason Michael’s refused to believe you were dead since the moment I met him, probably before that too” Stucky explains, his head shaking as he hands Matt the difficult pill to swallow, “you’ve got a rat in your chain, and he’s working with our old man, and our old man only.” Rolling his eyes, Matt walks away from Stucky, beginning to walk circles in his own yard as the younger addict proceeds to lower his shirt, no longer feeling the need to be defensive. “If it helps, dad hasn’t known you were alive for sure until last night” Stucky explains, continuing to ease Matt’s worries, “he also doesn’t know about the Purple Gang, or about the hit on him… So if that narrows down the suspect list, I’m glad to be of use.” Turning away, Stucky returns to his vehicle, having said what he needed to say. “How sure about all of that are you?” Matt calls back, extending the first olive branch he has to offer. “I know everything dad knows and then some” Stucky calls back, flashing the man a smile, “go get the rat before he starts to nest.” With that, Stucky climbs into his car and takes off into the night, leaving Matt behind to watch his car drive off, contemplation necessary. | “I have an appointment coming up within the next fifteen minutes, so let’s try to make this fast” Darlene explains, taking a seat on the edge of her desk, Michael’s coat being tossed onto the sofa. “Sure thing, I wanted to inquire as to the information you have on a former employee at this clinic… Matthew Gilcrest?” Michael begins, watching Darlene’s facial muscles shift, a response she knows makes her suspicious to anyone with high-awareness out of the gate. “We did have a Matthew working here for a short time, unfortunately, we did not have a Matthew that worked here under that name” Darlene replies, the nonchalant shuffle of Michael’s hands in his pockets greeting her. “Then what was the name of your Matthew?” Michael replies, the sight of clenched teeth meeting him once thereafter. “I cannot give that information out, I’m sorry for the inconvenience” Darlene replies, the unpleasant look on Michael’s face leaving her uneasy. Puckered lips, Michael knows this building to have once employed his son, the loose thread he has to keep his eye upon one that he’s not willing to let slip away easily. “We both know my son was formerly employed under your institution, Ms. Jane… Quite frankly, with his qualifications, he’s actually overqualified to work in your center” Michael explains, slowly closing the distance between himself and the woman, “I’m afraid I can’t accept a non-answer to that question.” “I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice in how the law works” Darlene replies, immediately challenging the man, refusing to break the laws she is bound by. Not allowing himself to be bested, Michael continues to push boundaries, exceeding his welcome despite Darlene’s attempt at remaining polite and understanding. “I’m sure the two of us can work something out” Michael replies, uncuffing his sleeves as he continues to approach the woman. “I’m not sure you understand… I’m not changing my answer, Mr. Gilcrest” Darlene reiterates, her words falling short of reaching their mark, Michael’s persuasion continuing. “Scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours… What is it that you want?” Michael asks, refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer, the door behind him slowly creaking open. “I want you to back away from her” Brook calls out from behind, Michael quickly turning around to find the girl wielding a bottle of mace. “Brook, was it? Ms. Jane and I were just-” Michael begins, Brook’s ears refusing to let a single word in, her demands being spoken once again. “Back away from her now or you’ll be removed from this building partially blind” Brook says again, the man’s lips puckered as he begins to realize the numbers advantage has drastically swung in the advantage opposite him. “Still not budging?” Michael asks, backing away from Darlene, who demands he leave before she calls security. Teeth clenched and lip arched, Michael storms out of the office and returns the way he came, his coat left behind on the office’s sofa. “Thanks for the heads up” Darlene calls out to Brook, the young girl looking back to her, a silent nod being returned as a way of accepting the appreciation. | Laying upon the couch in the backroom of the club, Wade tries to catch sleep until the hidden door opens up, revealing the head of the table himself. “Boss!” Wade shouts, parting his eyes for a moment before energetically bolting out of bed. “It’s fine, Wade… You don’t need to stand for me everytime I enter a room” Matt explains, taking a seat at the end of the sofa, “do you mind if I ask you something?” Pulling himself up to a seat, Wade waits for Matt to find the right words to use, feeling bad about having to answer honestly when the question is finally asked. “What can you tell me about the night we failed to hit the wife over at the docks?” Matt inquires, Wade’s expression suggesting he doesn’t want to answer the question. “It was really sloppy… Like really sloppy” Wade replies, Matt nodding as this information is newly afforded to him. “Guys were fucking up counts, tripping over bodies, everything you can imagine an army fucking up in a narrow, boat-sized corridor happened” Wade concludes, “making it out alive was impressive enough.” With a deep breath, Matt crosses his arms and sinks into the couch, looking off at the back of the room, not wanting to say much more than he has to yet. “What happened when you all found the body?” Matt proceeds, Wade’s loss of direct memory telling Matt it was as chaotic as one would assume. “There was gunfire until there wasn’t, then one of our guys shouts that something’s wrong” Wade explains, recalling the discovery of yet another crewmate adorned in the fur coat, a sight that was intended to be seen, “I was in the back already, so I ran out with what I knew and called fro Tyrell and Danny.” Pulling off his sunglasses, Matt tosses the shades to the table he rests his feet upon, eyes focusing on the man beside him. “Whose call was it to go on the attack?” Matt inquires, wanting to make sure his bases are covered. “Tyrell” Wade replies, confirming Danny’s story for many nights prior, prompting Matt to begin nodding to himself, not a word shared until Wade speaks up once more. “Why does it matter, if I may ask?” Wade wonders aloud, Matt’s head turning towards him, lips parting to speak until they’re suddenly interrupted. Just beyond their door, a massive blast sends shockwaves across the ground, shaking the building in an instant, an explosion seemingly going off right next to them. Leaping from the couch, Matt races to the door, Wade quickly following behind him, their feet carrying them to the front of the building where they’re met with massive flames. In shock, Matt lifts his arms to his head, hands cradling the sides of his face as he looks on in refusal. “They’re still in there” Matt suddenly says to himself, shocked eyes suddenly taking on dread, feet beginning to carry him closer to the inferno. “They’re not in there!” Wade shouts, pulling Matt’s arm back, nothing but confusion and panic coming over the head of the table. “What do you mean?” Matt asks, Wade quick to inform him that the army was following Danny to another meeting with the Gilcrests. “Danny’s meeting with the Gilcrests again?” Matt repeats, Wade confirming the words he had just spoken. “I told him not to!” Matt shouts, yet again, information Wade was already aware of. “He came back saying you refused to give him approval!” Wade shouts, again being asked for further details. “Tyrell told him to veto your overruling!” Wade replies, watching Matt’s eyes widen, a realization coming over him that grips his every fear. “Tyrell’s the rat” Matt whispers to himself, muttering it louder again, this time loud enough for Wade to hear it. “Where did Danny and Tyrell set up the meeting!?” Matt shouts, the address of his old family home being reverberated back to him from Wade’s lips only further adding fuel to the fire burning within his very core. Hurrying to his car, Matt places his fingers onto the handle and opens his door just as Wade climbs into the passenger’s seat. “Come on, what are you waiting for!?” Wade shouts, the need for urgency far outweighing to wish to treat his boss with respect. Wrapped around his door’s handle, a purple bandana that had not been there prior is left to Matt’s eyes to find, a keepsake from those responsible for the explosion offering Matt a clear indicator as to who is to be held accountable. | Blade hidden in his sleeve, Danny approaches the front door of the Gilcrest residence with his army behind him, not a moment of time being wasted, the time to finish what they started being now. Slamming his fist against the front door, Danny awaits an answer, Tyrell stood loyally beside him, eyes in the corner of his head, keeping an ever-present view of the Table’s acting general. Front door being pulled open, a young woman looks on at the sight of a standing army at the front door as a bad sign, Danny leaping into action the moment hesitation comes across her face. Blade protruding from his sleeve, Danny shatters the glass door in an instant, plunging the blade into the woman’s throat in the same breath. Letting himself in, Danny leads the group into the Gilcrest residency, a small fleet of his guards following Danny and Tyrell towards the kitchen. Walking through the corridor, Danny’s militia finds Michael stood on his lonesome, a gun in one hand whilst the other hides in his pocket. “Fire” Danny calls out, waiting for gunfire that never arrives, an order that goes unanswered being a bad sign. Soon, a struggle breaks out behind Danny, the man turning around to find half his militia being disarmed and held at gunpoint, a sight that Danny takes great concern over. “What the hell are you doing!?” Danny shouts, reaching for one of the militia’s guns before Tyrell takes his concealed blade into his own possession, one arm wrapped around Danny’s throat. “What the fuck, Ty!” Danny shouts, a chuckle coming from the turncoat as he pulls him away, backing him into Michael’s side of the kitchen. Danny’s men unarmed and Danny himself now held captive, Michael turns his attention towards the struggling set of high-ranking Table members. “It’s been a little while since we last talked, Tyrell… I’m glad to see your allegiances haven’t switched since then” Michael says, mocking Danny when he adds, “at least, haven’t switched again.” Spitting in Michael’s direction, Danny tells the man with a gun aimed at his head to pull the trigger and get this night over with, a demand that Michael takes little interest in. “You haven’t told me what I want to hear yet, Daniel!” Michael replies, a sadistic smile coming over his face, watching the effort put into Danny’s struggle and laughing at it. “Where is my son?” Michael asks, leaning forward with the barrel pointed towards Danny’s face, Tyrell’s hand covering Danny’s mouth to catch any second attempt at spitting on his true boss. “Right here” a voice calls out from the head of the kitchen, Michael turning around the moment it’s heard, a parting of the sea between loyal and traitorous guards making way for Matt, who stands in the corridor, unarmed with hands by his side. “My… My boy!” Michael mutters beneath his breath, Matt’s sight one he hoped to, but never expected to ever see again, the moment forcing his evil mask to crumble beneath the weight of long-sought after empathy. “Hey…” Matt replies, his voice soft as well, though loud enough to be heard from across the room, a wad of spit swallowed as the moment begins to weigh upon Matt as well, the heavy weight returning to his chest once again, “...dad.” == Kings of Cambridge ==
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“Are you sure you can handle this?” Wade’s voice calls from within Danny’s earpiece, the Table’s feigned leader leant against the back of the first ticket booth past the entrance, stood on his own. “I’ve met with the asshat once already, I’m sure our second meeting won’t be as awkward as the first” Danny replies, continuing to look out at each side, waiting for the sight of a familiar looking man to approach him.
“Take the ear piece out” a woman demands, prompting Danny’s head to jerk in the direction of the voice, finding nothing awaiting his glance. Approaching the side of the booth, the woman repeats her orders, warning the man that she won’t entertain him if he continues to refuse her instructions. “You’re not who I’m supposed to be meeting with” Danny replies, now knowing the woman to be hidden around the corner, keeping herself out of sight, her voice already giving away her identity. “Who is it?” Wade asks, the microphone lifted to his lips as he desperately hopes for an answer, repeating the question each time he goes without one. “Now, as I said previously… Take the ear piece out” the woman reiterates, waiting to her the man’s coat ruffle against itself to suggest his hand moving in cooperation with her commands. “Don’t take the ear piece out, Dan!” Wade shouts, his voice falling of deaf ears, the device already removed, “abort the mission, it’s not secure anymore.” “Now step on it” the woman commands, earning another plea for Wade to do otherwise, the writing already having been placed upon the walls. Unwilling to allow this meeting to go down without coming what he showed up for, Danny does as told, dropping the piece to the ground and crunching it beneath his heel. “I’m glad you know what’s best for you” the woman exclaims, finally showing her face to the man, confidence oozing off her, “that will make this a whole lot easier.” “Why did your husband fail to show?” Danny asks, watching the woman’s silent response come in the form of a shrug towards the ferris wheel. “This isn’t your meeting, and you’re not the one dictating where it goes” Danny explains, making sure the woman has little time to get too acclimated to a position of power, “I’ve done as you asked, now answer the question that I’ve asked… Why are you here and not your husband.” Playing along at the start, Monica approaches the man, prompting Danny to begin backing away once the space between them grows too short for comfort, only then offering to answer him. “It’s my husband’s business just as much as it is mine” Monica explains, looking down the length of the man’s torso, finding his build to be intriguing, “if you have any business matters to discuss, you can do so with me as easily as you can him… If it’s a personal matter… We both might just be out of luck.” “Why should I trust you know anything I came here to ask him?” Danny explains, keeping both arms straight and rigid by his side, “you may oversee the same business, but you don’t share one mind.” With a laugh, Monica notices the great irony behind his statement, her marriage being a perfect example of such truth. “If I don’t have knowledge over what you’re inquiring, he’s going to be in plenty of trouble” Monica replies, giving Danny a wink, “you’ll have nothing to fear the way he will.” Stood silently, just staring at the woman with a clear distrust, Danny awaits her following statement, only to be met with the same gesture as before. “Walk with me” Monica asks, taking the first step between the two towards her intended destination, “I think we have plenty to discuss.” Remaining where he was left, Danny watches the woman walk on as he considers the options, looking back the way he came before deciding to march forward, sharing the space beside the Gilcrest matriarch. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = Stood in the hallway, Perry awaits his name to be called from within the hollowed halls of the director’s room, the only soul around until the door at the end of the hallway swings open. Walking confidently, Matt follows a worried, yet calm-appearing Darlene, who understands the faults in her actions and refuses to fear the consequences that come with them. “I’m amazed you bothered to show your face” Perry quips, an arrogant smile dawned upon his face. “You clearly have no clue who I am then” Darlene replies, a response Perry takes no care in, his eyes trailing away from the woman and onto the man behind her. “This is the street-walker you tried to replace me with?” Perry asks, unimpressed with anything other than the man’s relatively-impressive height now that he’s seen him in person, “shameful.” “I’d keep your mouth shut if I were you, it’ll-” Matt begins, quickly cut off by the amused foe, his confidence so high it can’t be measured on a scale. “Me? Keep my mouth shut? Why is that?” Perry challenges, establishing himself as a man that can silence and provoke a room of whatever whim he pleases. “It’ll help keep you from looking stupid” Matt concludes, earning genuine laughter from the high-horsed claimant. “It’ll keep me from looking stupid?” Perry recites, laughing with each breath he doesn’t speak through, “The two of you showed up to a meeting just to get stripped of everything you’re worth… I’m the farthest thing from stupid as long as you’re in the same room as me.” Eyes squinting, Matt looks down upon Perry, considering him nothing more than an ego in a freshly-ironed suit. “I’m sure we’ll see about that” Matt replies, a passive answer that Perry takes as a threat, immediately noticing the opportunity he has to prod at the sleeping bear. “Is that supposed to mean something, buddy?” Perry asks, briefcase in hand and coat in the other, “you gonna threaten to meet me in the parking lot after this is all said and done? Exactly what are you gonna do?” Approaching Matt, Perry opens himself up to physical abuse, gladly welcoming any chance he has to sue the man for everything he’s worth on top of gaining the result he desires from the hearing. “I’m going to make you look like a well-certified fool, that’s what I’m going to do” Matt replies, immediately challenged on his statement by the man, who asks whether or not he believes what he’s saying. “I believe you don’t have the first clue about me, buddy” Matt replies, meeting the man’s demeanor by stepping forward, getting in the man’s face and refusing to throw the first punch, “you’re going to be embarrassed in there, buddy.” Nodding, Perry attempts to respond before the heavy doors open, revealing a woman with only one name on the tip of her tongue. “Perry Armanti?” the woman calls out, watching the two men, both bound for a fist fight just moments before, turn their faces towards her, “the board wants your testimony before we begin the group hearing.” Backing away from Matt, Perry gives his near-replacement a wink before adjusting his suit jacket. “Gladly” Perry replies to the intern, following her into the room, leaving Darlene and Matt to embrace each other’s company, the worry creeping in over Darlene nowhere to be found in Matt. | “I hear you were close friends with my husband’s biological son” Monica explains, walking along the carnival grounds to the tune of the cheerful music accompanying every ride around. “I was close friends with your husbands son, yes” Danny replies, focusing heavily on not giving any ground to the woman he’s better off keeping for himself, “whether you’d like to admit it or not, Stucky will never be the son to your husband the way Matt was.” With a smile, Monica nods to herself, accepting the man’s gesture as a jab at her personal life, changing the course of their conversation to a more preferable alternative. “So that’s what you call him?” Monica asks, turning towards the man just in time for his eyes to stumble upon her own, “Stucky?” “Sticky fingers belonging to a man who’s stuck in his demon’s own territory” Danny replies, not breaking eye contact for even a moment, “it’s his nickname… he’s earned it.” Continuing to walk, Monica grows silent as the ferris wheel nears with every step, the conversation being left in the hands of Danny to manipulate to his liking. “I’m sure you already know that you’re in our crosshairs” Danny explains, looking around the carnival, noticing every out-of-place body, “no doubt you’ve got us surrounded.” With a smile, the woman keeps her head straight, eyes watching the contraption ahead glow with vibrant lights, each question from here on out answered without eye contact. “I do my research, if that’s what you’re asking about” Monica replies, head tilted towards her shoulder, “but you’re not my prisoner.” “I’m not your victim either, if that’s where you think this is going to end tonight” Danny replies, his face turning towards her, his own stare met without one from the woman, who simply laughs at his response. “I never suggested such a thing” Monica replies, her smile fading into a straight face, teeth hidden behind royal purple lips, “don’t fill your head with terrible thoughts, Daniel.” Hands balling into a fist by his side, Danny grimaces at the woman’s uttering of his name, a singular breath leaving his lungs in one, smooth breath. “Don’t give me the room to, then” Danny replies, putting the onus on her, a gesture which she gains amusement from. “Duly noted” the woman replies, teeth appearing once more, both she and Danny keeping their sights forward, an awkward pause coming over the two of them. | “Why are you so confident?” Darlene asks, her face held firmly towards the blank wall ahead of her, inner thoughts not wanting to drape their eyes upon the sights of anything lively, “it makes no sense.” Lips parted, Matt begins to feel cold air run across his teeth, the chill it sends down his spine and the pain it brings across his teeth feeling justified to him. “I shouldn’t be” Matt replies, his head hung and hands left in his lap, “this changes everything… For both of us.” With a chuckle, Darlene shakes her head in refusal, not saying anything at first until the words suddenly leave her lips. “You lose nothing from this… Any of this… It all falls back on me” Darlene explains, refusing to meet the man’s eyes as his head drifts back towards her, attention firmly kept with her, “I’m going to lose everything.” Likening the woman’s current feelings to be a product of the stages of grief, Matt does what he can to ease her troubles, his hand resting upon her knee until she swipes it away. Finally turning her head, Darlene looks towards the man, his expression not containing fear or worry, only helping to worsen the feeling that she’s alone in what comes ahead. “I don’t know who you are” Darlene mutters, watching the man’s expression shift poorly, his wants being to tell her what she wants to hear, but such falsities refuse to leave his mouth. His chest weighing itself down, Matt finds it difficult to breath, forcing himself through each breath, a slight wheeze leaving his lungs until he finally musters up the courage to respond. “No” Matt replies, his voice soft, almost at a whisper, “no, you do not.” Lip quivering, the pair are interrupted by the sound of the door opening, the intern peering her head into the lobby, Perry not behind her. “Matthew Tory” the woman calls out, waiting patiently as the man pushes himself to his feet, walking after her, leaving Darlene on the bench by herself, eyes returning to the beige-colored walls. | Climbing into the ferris wheel cage, Monica and Danny take the same seat, sat beside each other, facing an empty bench and steel bars overlooking greater Cambridge. “I used to ride on these all the time” Monica mutters, the recollection coming as a surprise to Danny, who continues to keep his guard high, the blade in his sleeve still kept firmly within his fingertips, “then I grew up and realized that the only truth was the one higher than the rest.” Confused, Danny looks away from the woman, eyes falling upon the lit-up overhead view of Cambridge, a view that only gets higher the further their car ascends, “you’re talking about god?” With a smile, Monica looks back to the man, eyes full of life and emotion appearing to have been left wherever she parked her vehicle. “No” the woman replies, her response simple and brief, eyes looking away from the man immediately thereafter. “Why are you and your friends coming after me?” Monica asks, keeping her face aimed away from Danny’s, the cart they occupy just nearly reaching the top, “what have I done to interject myself in your line of fire?” With a deep breath, Danny directs the woman away from her inquiry, assuring the woman that such a discussion was not the point of his reaching out. “It may not be the reason for wanting to meet, but it’s the reason behind my wanting to appear” Monica explains, finally looking back at the man, wishing for Danny to look her in the eyes as he answers, “why?” His breathing calmed, Danny keeps his fingers pressed heavily against the blade, knowing the opportunity to take out the Gilcrest matriarch to be perfect in the moment. “You’re a wanted woman, Monica” Danny replies, his chin purposefully aimed high, silently showing a sign of dominance, one the woman takes no care in. “But why am I wanted by you?” Monica replies, the question raised being one that Danny has little answer for, prompting his grip on the concealed dagger to tighten. “You know too much” Danny replies, watching the woman’s smile spread further across her face, her movements daring Danny to take his shot. Leaning forward, Monica opens herself up to an attack, her eyes falling upon the concealed hand in Danny’s sleeve, knowing what he is in possession of, confident in her beliefs. “What is it that I know too much of, Daniel?” Monica replies, her voice coming across in a seductive whisper, her head mere inches away from Danny’s own as her own two hands rest beneath the cover of her coat, one emerging from her sleeve, reaching for the man’s free hand whilst the other conceals a gun. “You know what’s coming” Danny replies, his own voice coming in a whisper, the two faces coming so close within the other’s that the cold air soon becomes forgotten amidst their hot breath. Both concealing their own weapons, Danny’s still hand feels the warm presence of Monica’s lingering just overhead, the game now only coming down to who makes the first move, and what that first move happens to be. “Why are you after me?” Monica whispers again, the hand she wavers in the air finally dropping, her fingers pressing against Danny’s own just as her gun takes aim from within cover. Before he can answer, Danny watches Monica’s eyes widen, the reassuring sensation of Danny’s trembling fingers in her hands telling her more than the man would have liked her to know. “You’re right” Danny replies, locking eyes with Monica, who lowers her concealed hand in preparation for his next move, “you know too much.” Swinging his second hand towards the woman, Danny’s mouth lets out a wail of pain as a silenced shot rings through the carriage, Monica’s hand covering his lips and muffling his outburst as his blade falls to the floor. “You’re right… I do know too much” Monica replies, her voice coming in the sound of a whisper as their shared cart locks into place, allowing them an exit, “and because of that, you get to live.” Removing her hand, Monica breaks away from the man and escapes the carriage, leaving him to clutch at his wounded, bloody palm just as Tyrell and Wade arrive. “What the hell happened!?” Wade shouts, the close proximity of the gunshot having brought them to the source, the image of a bloodied, yet alive Danny not bringing them hope. “She knows I’m not in charge” Danny replies, his hand pressed hard against his chest as he’s lead from the carriage, one arm over Wade’s shoulder, “I think she knows who is.” | “Darlene Jane?” the intern calls out, leading the woman into a poorly-lit room where Matt is seated on his own, Perry quick to re-enter the room upon his name being called for. “Ms. Jane, both Mr. Armanti and Mr. Tory have given us their individual statements” a man at the forefront explains, watching the woman take a seat a few chairs away from Matt, “being as you have already given such in your report, we’d like to now begin with the hearing.” Looking through his different papers on the other side of the room, the hearing referee begins the proceedings. Those around the table being sworn in, the judge quickly begins to ask each individual participant to recite their full birth names, beginning with the claimant. “Perry Coe Armanti, your honor” Perry responds, prompting the judge to turn his attention towards Darlene. “Darlene Marie Jane, your honor” the woman says with a faint voice, the final man standing up, eyes locked on the judge as silence perseus. “Sir, please state your full birth name for the record” the judge asks, Matt’s face dropping with the demand, what is said next being set to change everything in his path. “Matthew Iram Gilcrest, your honor” Matt replies, earning a confused look from both Perry and Darlene. “I’m sorry, your honor… I’m quite positive Mr. Tory is responding to your request with a false name” Perry speaks up, immediately refusing to allow silence to overcome the room. “Mr. Armanti, it is my responsibility to inform you that Mr. Gilcrest has two legal names, the one given to him at birth, and the one given to him following a legal change” the judge replies, holding up a valid license with Matt’s face on it, the last name listed in the description reading “Gilcrest.” “I’ve only ever heard him referred to as ‘Matthew Tory’, your honor… I’d like to inquire as to validity of that change?” Perry replies, beginning to feel the walls closing in, all bets now off with such drastic revelations. “I legally had my name changed following my collegiate graduation for personal reasons, Mr. Armanti” Matt replies, speaking as grammatically proper as the judge himself, “my legal name as of now is Matthew Joseph Tory, though my diplomas and certificates read ‘Matthew Iram Gilcrest’.” “Certifications?” Darlene mutters to herself loud enough for everyone to hear, her concern being left with Matt, whom she looks up to, watching as he silently looks back towards her. “I graduated from Yale at the top of my class in 2017, your honor” Matt explains, his words directed towards the judge despite his eyes being left upon Darlene, “I’d earned my doctorate in psychology.” Beginning to speak, the judge addresses the previously hidden information to those before him, Darlene’s eyes never once leaving Matt until her name is called for. Watching Matt return to his seat, Darlene looks towards him with a mixture of confusion, anger, sadness and glee, unable to truly gage the things she feels in that moment. “Ms. Darlene Jane had no awareness of Mr. Tory’s certifications prior to his hiring, but there is no proper way to certify such possibilities beyond any reasonable doubt” the judge explains, no off-the-record statements being excluded as possibly having occurred, thus, keeping the decision as brief as the hearing itself, “I hereby find in favor of the defendant, Ms. Darlene Jane, as having reasonable cause for the termination Mr. Armanti’s employment.” With the slamming of his gavel, the judge dismisses the case, leaving Perry in a state of shock, any chance of a postponement having vanished the moment he took his seat at the table. “This is some bullshit, and you know it!” Perry shouts at Matt, who stands the length of the room away from him, stood beside Darlene’s table. “Embarrassed yet, buddy?” Matt calls back, the last laugh not being had, an angry Perry storming away with a final declaration. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, Tory” Perry shouts, slamming the palm of his hand into the door, letting himself out as Matt allows him to leave without another word. Attention needed elsewhere, Matt looks down towards Darlene, who stands at her table, frozen without a clue as to how things swung in such a dramatic fashion. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier” Matt says, his apology falling on deaf ears the moment Darlene breaks from her pose, leaving her chair and grabbing her bag. “I didn’t want you to see me in a way that-” Matt begins, stopped when confronted with the sight of Darlene’s open hand. “You let me sit out there thinking my life was over… Don’t stand here and explain that all away” Darlene replies, her mind returning to their original introduction, “you led me on this whole time.” “No, Darlene… I swear-” Matt replies, trying to explain himself until being stopped once again, the sight of another open hand silencing him. “You knew you were perfectly fine for the job, but you let me go on thinking all of this could come crashing down at any moment” Darlene continues, sliding her chair in the way she found it before walking off, “you didn’t care about what happened then, so don’t start caring about what happens now… Leave me alone.” Watching Darlene exit the room, Matt stands by her desk and looks towards her empty seat, an empty spot in the room now being the only connection he has to a woman that wants nothing to do with him. | “Christopher!” Monica calls out, stood in the living room across from Michael, her eyes placed upon the corridor Stucky soon emerges from. With a smile, the woman places her hands on her hips as her words find Stucky’s ears, the revelation Monica brings to the table turning a lightbulb on inside her husband’s head. “The next time you set either of us up on a meet with the Table, do me one favor” Monica explains, taking two steps closer to her son, “set us up with the actual leader.” “Will do” Stucky says, not a moment of consideration in his response, his sincere answer prompting him to leave the room as quickly as he can, Michael’s own questions now being raised. “Daniel really isn’t in charge?” Michael asks, setting his laptop to the side as he removes himself from his chair, a smirk coming over his wife’s face in an instant. “His hands were trembling in that carriage” Monica replies, tossing her gun onto the couch, “he’s no killer.” Pausing for a moment, Michael thinks over his wife’s words and begins to fear the worst. “You didn’t kill him, did you?” Michael asks, his wife’s pleased expression fading instantly. “He’s not an important enough snake to kill, Michael” Monica replies, beginning to walk for the kitchen, her heels tapping across the hardwood floors, “but I think I know who is.” Almost on command, Monica’s statement concludes just as Michael’s phone begins to buzz, his screen lit up vividly, the white light overcoming his face not keeping his expression from shifting. Lips parting, Michael’s eyes widen, his eyebrows furrowing as one hand reaches towards his face, its fingers covering his open mouth as his jaw only continues to drop further. | “I’m sorry, I should’ve taken the opening when she gave it to me” Danny explains, Matt shaking his head in refusal, a glass of vodka raised to his lips. “She would have been expecting it… Could have given her the idea that you’d be better off dead and you wouldn’t be here right now” Matt replies, occupying his seat at his counter, Danny sat upon a stool on the other side, “showing anxiousness might have been the only thing that got you out of there alive tonight.” With a perfectly steady hand, Matt lifts the rest of the drink in his hand to his lips, downing its contents the rest of the way as his phone begins to buzz. “Are you gonna get that?” Danny asks, watching Matt shake his head as he pours himself another drink. “It’s not a phone call and I already know what it is” Matt replies, leaning his elbow against the counter as he watches Danny’s refusal to argue Matt’s reasoning take fold. “Okay, I’m going home” Danny replies, stepping off the barstool and beginning to walk for the front door, a pause in his step preceding his exit. “She knows I’m not in charge now” Danny calls back, looking towards Matt from over his shoulder, a slightly-buzzed Table leader groggily turning back towards him. “I know” Matt replies, calling back to Danny, who lets another statement of reassurance slip from his booze-coated lips. “You’re still dead until proven otherwise… They might not even consider you to be the man behind the sheet” Danny explains, the defeated expression across the face of Matt suggesting a difference in outlook. “Otherwise” Matt replies, not as a recitement, but as a statement, the vague, one-worded answer dismantling the small hope Danny had of the Table escaping this night unscathed aside from his hand. Closing the door behind him, Danny leaves Matt to his own vices, the man reaching for the phone in his pocket after one final sip. Opening his phone without needing to look, Matt finds the notification on his screen read just as he had assumed it would. ‘New Record Update - Matthew I. Gilcrest’ the notification reads, affording the customer a new usage of the name. ‘Legal History - Employment Hearing - Kings of Cambridge Therapy Clinic - Cambridge, Massachusetts’ the alert reads aloud, a smug frown dawning over Matt’s face as his nostrils flare. Defeated and laid upon the bed he’s made for himself, Matt sheepishly tosses the unfinished glass of vodka across the counter and lets it fall to the ground, shattering with a whimper. == Kings of Cambridge == “When did all of this happen?” Michael asks, a still-tense Danny looking him in the eyes, refusing to give completely into the pleasant demeanor. “Not long after Matt” Danny replies, biting his lip, the cover story having small holes he hopes to plug later, “instead of doing drugs, I started slinging ‘em… Make myself some money and move on… Kinda like you.”
“I didn’t sell the drugs to move on, I-” Michael begins, quickly interrupted by the man in front of him, Danny keeping Michael informed of the line between the two. “Not the drugs specifically, I’m talking about you moving on” Danny explains, the man’s face falling as he sheepishly shakes his head, “you got a new wife and a new kid, one that will never be Matt, but I digress… You moved on.” With a huff, Michael watches his breath disperse before him, the cold air keeping him from sinking into the conversation comfortably, it’s confrontational nature demanding a different approach. “I didn’t marry Monica because she had a replacement for Matt, I married her because it was necessary” Michael replies, his loveless marriage already an open secret, “she had reach, I had product, we needed to keep up a public image worth yearning for.” “You got a new family” Danny counters, refusing to let Michael speak his way into a false truth, one he can convince himself to believe in, “and if Matt were alive today, he’d look at you and question everything you ever taught him.” A smile appearing from between his lips, Michael looks at Danny with unconvinced eyes, a great deal of regret behind them. “His mother taught him more than I ever could, so that is something I wouldn’t be surprised to find” Michael explains, the smile quickly fading back to a stern face, “but I never replaced him.” Sniffling, Danny bites into his bottom lip, not wishing to touch on the point of their conversation just yet, instead having questions he wants answers to. “Why keep Stucky around this whole time?” Danny asks, a brief chuckle coming from Michael’s lungs, “isn’t he more of a burdon than anything else?” Nodding, Michael agrees with Danny’s statement, the wires in his brain already wired to view people both as individuals and pawns, nothing but properties to trade, seize and render obsolete. “That kid would go through an entire drug house in one weekend if someone isn’t keeping an eye on him, you’re most right about that” Michael replies, his stance changing, taking an empathetic pose, “but he’s the vehicle for me to take care of the way I couldn’t for Matt and his brother.” Looking away, Danny does his best to not entertain the new path the conversation is taking, failing to find a new course before Michael can bring up the past once again. “I’ve lost two sons because I couldn’t be a good father” Michael explains, his shoes buried into the dirt, anxiety prompting his heels to dig into the ground, “one died because I couldn’t be his father, and the other died because I didn’t know how to be his father.” Silence following the man’s statement, Danny sees an opportunity to even further clarify the lines he’s unwilling to cross, taking a jab at Michael the moment the chance presents itself. “It sounds like you’re a pretty shitty father” Danny replies, expecting a sour expression, only to be surprised when the man answers with a laugh. “Yeah, I am” Michael replies, keeping his tears back whilst licking his bone-dry lips, “I’m just not cut out to be that kind of person. That’s why I do this.” Staying silent, Danny expects the man to continue talking, allowing himself to travel alongside the Gilcrest’s patriarch until he reaches a point worth speaking on. “Now you’re standing here, appearing before me after all this time… The true head of the Table” Michael explains, hands burying themselves in his pockets, head tilted to the side as he breaks the ice, “I’m sorry, but I’m not quite so sure I’m buying it.” Curious, Danny inquires the reason as to why, a question Michael is all too willing to answer. “I’ll give the Table their credit… They handle their product well and have enjoyed long-term success” Michael explains, offering credit where it is due, “but the Table only operates efficiently because the man in the big chair is already very well aware of how an enterprise like such is designed to operate… That’s insider information.” Quick to amuse Michael, Danny engages in this new line of dialogue, challenging Michael’s thought now that it has been presented. “How are you so certain Matt didn’t tell me every little detail?” Danny asks, watching Michael scoff at such a notion. “Matt hated everything about the trade especially after it played a factor in his brother’s death” Michael explains, completely certain of his mindset being one of unadulterated truth, “he would have kept himself and everyone he knew far, far away.” Beginning to view the man as a joke, Danny laughs at Michael’s statement, quickly quipping back at the man, challenging the knowledge he has of his own son. “You’re telling me you can’t see a world where Matt wants your enterprise beaten at its own game?” Danny asks, playing into information he’s familiar with, as well as information he’s just recently come into, “you’re telling me Matt would have wanted you to go completely unopposed? Allowed to just do as you please this whole time?” Smile fading, Michael promises Danny that he knows what his children would have wanted, and guarantees that it would have been distance, not proximity to the trade. “I guess you really don’t know your kids as well as you think you did” Danny replies, cutting the final string of goodwill between them, “I bet you don’t even really know your new kid as well as you think you do.” “What is that supposed to mean?” Michael asks, reading the man’s eyes, noticing a shift in his stare upon the latter-most statement, “have you been talking to Christopher?” His lips puckered, Danny pulls his hands into his pockets, a smile breaking through his lips as he looks on, answering Michael’s question. “Nope” Danny replies, a few steps leading him back the way he came, the conversation ending on his own departure, “keep your distance, Michael.” Turning his back to the Gilcrest patriarch, Danny continues walking, a smile on his face as Michael looks on, silent, the expression of a man slighted reading for miles. With a grunt, Michael turns away from his son’s childhood friend and walks back in his own direction, the two factions splitting apart once more. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “Brutus is dead?” Danny calls out, a small room filled with only the most trusted allies of the Table surrounding him, all spear-headed by a slumped-over Matt, who feels himself being cornered in real time. “Brutus, with all due respect, is not the biggest danger we’ve got to be talking about right now” Tyrell explains, his eyes turning towards the head of the table, “you’re telling us the Purple Gang is coming back?” The youngest in the room, Wade asks for clarification, hoping for an understandable answer. “What’s the Purple Gang, again?” the young man asks, earning a few glances at first before the majority of the room reminds themselves of his youth. “It’s the ‘East Harlem Purple Gang’” Danny replies, arms folded atop each other as he approaches a whiteboard, two pictures plastered atop it, “a small heroin organization everyone thought was eradicated in the eighties.” “And what, they just disappeared for forty years and came back out of nowhere, bigger and badder than before?” Wade asks, only a shrug being offered from the new representing face of the enterprise. “Do any of you understand how stupid that sounds?” Wade asks, looking around the room, reading a lack of confidence on every face, including Matt’s, “either they’re magicians that can become invisible whenever the hell they want, or this isn’t the ‘Purple Gang’.” “We don’t know enough to look at it from either perspective” Danny replies, cutting off the room for arguing against such a truth, “the best we have to go off of is a woman that’s shared what she’s wished to.” Unable to buy into the idea of a forty-year underground operation going unnoticed, Wade refuses to take these threats seriously, demanding to hear a reason to believe otherwise. “Because the only true thread linking every enterprise together is their refusal to overlook threats” Danny replies, staring Wade in the eyes with his hands held forward, “we exterminate the issue and work from there, no matter the danger the issue holds.” Lifting his voice for the first time, Matt speaks to Wade with a less judgmental tone in his voice, understanding the modern, yet equally ineffective approach. “East Harlem are thugs… They’re a spawn of the American mafia, they don’t have room to fuck around” Matt explains, turning towards everyone in attendance amidst a pause, “you never take the mafia lightly.” Having pulled Wade into cooperation, Matt raises the alarm bells over yet another problem they find staring down at them. “We’ve got someone on the inside, someone that’s not Candy, feeding information to the Gilcrest’s” Matt explains, eye placed on every man, “any ideas?” Silent, the men around Matt all fail to come up with possibilities, only Danny speaking up to recite previous facts. “Levi and the rest of the first crew have been disposed of and were all under suspicion” Danny explains, “while it could have been any of them, it’s highly unlikely they would have had access to Matt.” Taught not to speak suspicion in a time of accusation, the room remains quiet, nothing of value to offer. “Okay, that is all” Matt says abruptly, allowing the confused group to disperse as Danny looks on, waiting for the room to empty before speaking out. “How much of that was bullshit and how much of that was the truth?” Danny asks upon the final man’s exit, a confounded expression dawned upon Matt’s face. “We’re not taking the Purple Gang seriously, Dan… They’ve been gone for forty years and aren’t showing up now” Matt explains, guaranteeing one outcome from this confrontation. “These ‘purple gang wannabees’ are imitations of the real thing… They’re nothing” Matt explains, a smile adorned upon his face as he draws the red string from one thumbtack to another, “but if the mole is in this room, you better bet your asses the Gilcrest’s will find out about them soon.” “You want me to set up another meeting with your dad?” Danny asks, a nod of approval coming from Matt’s shoulders just as his phone begins to buzz. “Matthew Tory’s personal line” the man greets, the voice on the other end one that he did not expect to hear from anytime soon. “It’s Darlene, I was wondering if you’d like to meet for lunch?” the woman on the other end replies, prompting the man to hide a smile, not wishing to look at this in a positive light. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes” Matt replies, hanging up the call without another word, leaving through the backdoor whilst Danny returns to the club. Minutes later, Matt arrives at a local restaurant chain and looks around the room, a familiar hairstyle just barely peering over the height of the booths, leading Matt to his desired table. “It’s good to see you” Matt begins, the kind words returned by the woman, who appreciates the comment. “It hasn’t been long since the last time we’ve spoken, but I still feel inclined to ask about how you’re doing” Darlene admits, a waitress approaching the table, interjecting herself into the conversation before the man can have a chance to answer. Offering their orders, Darlene and Matt allow the waitress to walk away before returning to their conversation, forgetting the question asked previously. “Is there a reason you asked me out to lunch?” Matt inquires, his hope for being warmly welcomed into the clinic falling flat the longer Darlene answers. “Brook walked out of a session with Perry and hid in a closet for a couple of hours to talk to me, so there’s a good start for you” Darlene explains, “but when she confronted me, Perry was there and tensions rose… It wasn’t long before I lost my cool and did something I’d rather not have done.” Eyes squinted, Matt leans forward and asks a slightly out of character question of her, which Darlene takes as a joke, laughing off. “Did you kill him?” Matt wonders aloud, Darlene refusing such a notion, taking a moment before continuing her train of thought. “I fired him… Right then and there and I didn’t look back” Darlene replies, pausing for a moment, “until now. He’s going to the board of directors and demanding they review my hiring of you.” “I’m a little under-informed of that process” Matt replies, using humor to explain his lack of understanding to such possible consequences. “They’re going to see that I hired you without any qualifications and they’re going to strip me of all of mine” Darlene replies, a small amount of hope still kept within her face despite the depressing lack of such in Matt’s own staring back at her. Without a word, Matt sinks back into his seat, head pressed against the seat as he looks out the window. “He described it as ‘urgent matter’ so the hearing’s taking place this weekend” Darlene explains, letting out a sigh once Matt looks back at her, her voice becoming slightly faint, “I just wanted you to know.” Head sunk, Matt holds both hands against his head, pressing his palms against his temples as Darlene continues to speak. “I don’t know what approach you took to helping these kids, but I wanted you to know how well it seems to have worked” Darlene explains, watching Matt’s eyes begin to tear up, not letting even one tear run down his cheek. “Most of the clients you got were ones that had seen Perry for somewhere around eight months or so” Darlene informs, her voice growing softer by the minute, “the majority of them asked for you to come back instead of Perry.” Unable to look at the woman for another moment without breaking into a full-blown cry, Matt shakes his head in refusal, not willing to believe someone that partakes in the work he does could make such a difference in a short amount of time. Despite the bountiful number of people that he’d seen, one stuck out from the rest, her name the first one he inquires about. “Brook?” Matt asks, the young girl’s troubles the ones he most enjoyed working through, her life the most fascinating to learn about. “If the people that wanted you back were an army, Brook was the one leading the charge” Darlene replies, a smile peering through her tear-soaked face, “even if it may have cost me my job, I don’t regret hiring you for a single moment… And I need you to know that.” With a deep breath, Matt closes his eyes, squeezing each tear from his eyelids before sliding away from the booth, leaving hastily with choice words to depart on. “Save me a seat at the hearing, I’ll be in attendance” Matt replies, his hand gently squeezing the woman’s shoulder before he leaves, a state of confusion being left for Darlene to navigate. | “Don’t you go anywhere other than that club and this dirt-covered shit-shack?” Stucky asks, entering Danny’s hanger as the man continues to work on his plane. “No, I don’t asshole… Not tell me who the rat is” Danny replies, sliding away from the belly of the plane to find Stucky with a gun aimed at him, the young addict ensuring to keep his own safety looked after. Not willing to fight, Danny exhaustedly sits up and folds his hands in his lap, repeating his question. “Listen, whomever’s on your side working for us is doing so for my father, not me” Stucky explains, Danny looking away with his head nodding, suggesting something other than anger towards him, “but it seems like you already know that.” With a sigh, Danny sits up and walks over to a workbench, nonchalantly telling the kid to lose the firearm, which Stucky does. “I’m rather familiar with Candy… I know you’re aware of the East Harlem invasion. Is your pops?” Danny inquires, the answer he wanted being the one that his ears pick up. “No” Stucky replies, an answer that puts a smile on Danny’s face. “Your father is convinced I’m not the leader of the Table” Danny explains, looking away from the young man and back to his plane, “I’m not really sure what he’s convinced of.” With a sigh, Stucky returns his weapon to the waistband of his pants, looking aimlessly around the hanger in search of a new question to ask. “So, why did you call me out here?” Stucky wonders aloud, knowing his role in this exchange being to set up another meeting. “I need you to keep your mouth shut about the E.H.P.G until I see him again” Danny explains, throwing a tower onto the bench before returning to his plane, “if I can get him to spill something, I’ll narrow the suspect list by a lot.” “Tell me what I gain out of setting this meeting up” Stucky replies, more than able to connect the dots, but preferring to hear Danny’s own words read them back to him. “If we can sniff out his mole, we’ll be rid of his insight detail and leave him in the dark” Danny replies, “we do that and you don’t blow the whistle on our next attack, we’ll likely be able to knock both of your parents out with the same fucking stone.” In approval, Stucky agrees, suggesting a crowded area, somewhere away from vantage points but filled with people. “There’s a carnival coming to town this weekend. Tell him to meet by the entrance, alone, and I’ll lead him to our talking point” Danny explains, “I won’t kill him that night if I don’t have to, but I’ll know where I can afterwards.” | “How did it go?” a voice calls out for Michael’s attention as he passes the kitchen corridor, leading him to the source. “It’s Daniel” Michael replies, his wife leant over the kitchen counter with a fork in her hand, a piece of cheesecake pierced through the end of it. “Who’s Daniel?” the woman says with slight seduction in her voice, the man’s answer being considered a regurgitation of his past. “You had the chance to cut the head off the snake last night, and you opted not to because he was your sons childhood friend?” Monica asks, almost treating Michael like a disappointing child, “have you lost the plot?” Rolling his eyes as he undoes his cuffs, Michael slowly approaches the woman, who continues to berate him from the other side of the counter. “He can be whatever he used to be, but now he’s the head of the Table” Monica explains, “you kill him where he stands.” Without warning, Michael wraps one hand around the front of his wife’s throat, telling her to shut her mouth, matching the seductive tone of her previous calls. Failing to read the room, Michael has his hand violently swiped away from the woman, who continues to insult him. “I’m not going to fuck you after you squandered the best chance we’ve ever had at crushing those pathetic monguls” Monica shouts back, viewing her husband as weak, “get lost.” Frustrated, the man walks away from the counter and picks up his sports jacket, returning to his bedroom as the woman dials for a number on the other end of the phone. “Harmon… Get up here and treat me the way a real man would” the woman says, ending the conversation as quickly as she had started it, her thumb pressing down on the screen before her hand tosses her phone onto the limestone finish, continuing to eat. | “I’m not going to sit here and pretend this is something that won’t hurt us in the long term, especially when trying to convince the Gilcrest’s that I’m the leader here” Danny says on the other end of Matt’s phone call, “but if going back on the grid is what you want, you’re family to me, and I only want what you want.” “Thanks, Dan” Matt replies, the sound of knocking at his door prompting him to begin saying his goodbye. Hanging up, Matt scampers to the door with his hand on his gun, one look through the peephole easing any concerns of a possible break in. “What are you doing here?” Matt asks, thinking over his question before asking one better, “how did you even figure out where I lived?” Stood on his front patio, Brook hears the mans concerns before answering each question like they weren’t warranted. “I snuck out and found your address in a bunch of files” Brook replies, her eyes looking around the property as he mind races to sides of the conversation she prefers talking about more, “this is your house?” Looking around the neighborhood, Matt leads the girl into his flat and shuts the door behind her, asking if she noticed anyone follow her. “Nothing followed me here, and why do you have a gun?” Brook asks, the man quickly placing the firearm down, writing off the neighborhood as a hotspot for burglaries. “Again, I’ll ask… Why are you here?” the man inquires, watching the girl walk around the couch and take a seat in his usual recliner, a sight that he admittedly smirks at. “I walked out of Perry’s session the other day” Brook explains, information Matt admits he’s already privy to, “good, so you know I didn’t have a session.” Smiling, Matt’s head hangs as he slowly walks into the living room, leaving the girl in his seat before taking his own on the coffee table. “I’ll play along for fifteen minutes, and only fifteen minutes… Then I’ll drive you back home, alright?” Matt wonders aloud, an condition Brook can agree to. “What do you want to start with?” Matt asks, allowing the woman to dictate where the session goes, surprised at the ease in which she approaches cautious topics. “Why couldn’t Darlene hire you back to another position?” Brook asks, the man attempting to come up with a false excuse at first, only for the girl to quickly call him out on it. “She couldn’t have hired me to be your therapist, which made my job pointless” Matt replies, earning quick confrontation. “She didn’t say she couldn’t hire you back as my therapist” Brook replies, one eyebrow lifted as she leans forward, “she said she couldn’t hire you period.” Unable to think of a good answer, Matt resorts to the truth, having already begun to feel like he can trust the girl with privileged information. “I don’t have a degree in psychology… I don’t have any certificates or qualifications” Matt admits, the girl shaking her head without a moment of care, “I’m as much of a therapist as anyone working at a corner store of the department of motor vehicles.” “Bullshit” the girl is quick to retort, Matt admitting the genuine truth behind his statement, prompting Brook to reiterate. “I’m not saying you’re lying, I’m saying that you’re a better therapist than just someone off the street… Even if you’re just a guy from off the street” Brook explains, “it may go without saying, but some dude working at seven-eleven can’t understand me the way you can. Stop selling yourself short.” Hands folded, Matt shrugs his shoulders at the girl’s kind words, admitting that they’re no good in the grand scheme of things. “Darlene’s going to be fired tomorrow if I don’t do something about it” Matt explains, not realizing the confused look in the girl’s eyes as he speaks, “I’m still just some guy off the streets… No matter what kind of change I can inspire.” “What are you not telling me?” Brook asks, calling the man out once more, reciting the man’s words, “you’re suggesting there’s some way you can save Darlene’s job… What is it?” Realizing the misspeak on his part, Matt applauds the young woman’s attention to detail, keeping secrecy to his statement, but feeding her the absolute most he can offer. “There’s a way I can keep Darlene from being fired, but it’ll cause a big headache for me” Matt explains, hoping to keep himself from accidentally spilling more than desired, “but if I stay this way, Darlene gets fired and I don’t have to go through another war like I did before.” Crossing her arms, Brook rests back in her seat, boiling the decision down to a pair of differing options. “You can open a can of worms and save Darlene’s job, or you can keep that can of worms closed and protect yourself” Brook explains, her head shaking as if the answer were obvious. “Are you really asking yourself which is the right decision to make?” Brook asks, watching the profound expression come across Matt’s face as she continues to speak, practically reading into his darkest fears. “If you want that can of worms shut, it’s because there’s too much there for you to handle” Brook explains, puckering her lips and continuing, “but without opening it, you let everyone else suffer so you don’t have to… Where’s the good in that?” A sudden moment of reflection coming over the man, Matt sits silently, thinking to himself the words he’s just heard spoken back to him, the floor below better off served as a mirror, as all Matt sees is his father’s reflection staring back at him. “It sounds like you’re running away from something you used to be, and that the answer you wanted was the one that was less valuable… Thus making the decision difficult for you” Brook explains, finally earning backstory from Matt. “My father, he- He used to use people for his own benefit, and I’ll just leave it at that” Matt explains, hoping the girl can shed light on his predicament with such information. “If staying quiet and letting Darlene take the fall is what works for you, so be it” Brook explains, lowering the recliner to allow herself to stand up, “but you’ll just be nothing better than your father.” Her insight stunning Matt, Brook allows the man to see the picturer from a clearer perspective, one that was otherwise impossible from the position of a man with as deeply rooted weights on his heart as Matt does. Continuing to walk to the door before Matt can even pick himself up to drive her home, Brook makes her final declaration towards the man, offering a set of words for Matt to encapsulate himself with. “Your dad sounds like he made his decision a long time ago” the young girl calls back, watching Matt’s head lift towards her, watching from afar, “it sounds like it’s now your turn to choose between the same.” Taking his keys from the bowl, Brook unlocks the man’s car and informs him that she’ll be waiting in the car, leaving him to reflect in peace. With a deep breath, Matt looks back at his fish tank, finding his prized creature swimming around the tank with an army of fish around him, a sight that prompts the man to smile. With a nod, Matt makes peace with himself, leaving the table and walking for the door, a symbolic turning off of the lights in the room preceding his departure. == Kings of Cambridge == Hands folded in his lap, Matt sits in the driver’s seat of a luxury sports vehicle, his phone left in the cupholder just beside his right arm. One foot eagerly tapping against the floor, Matt stares at a large home standing on its lonesome, not another building to be found other than one that belongs to the property for miles. Seething, Matt just looks at the home with disgust, his lip curled just at the sight, wishing his stare alone could start a fire that would result in its destruction.
His breaths slow and well-paced, Matt keeps his growing anger from breaching the surface point, keeping a relatively well-maintained composure as another vehicle passes his own. Pulling onto the side of the road, the vehicle parks itself at the end of the cul-de-sac and sits in its spot for a moment, time passing slowly enough for the lights going out and engine powering down to seem like a big deal. From the driver’s seat, Stucky emerges with blood staining his shirt, a gun held by his side as he anxious approaches the front step, the sight of which triggers a deep-rooted aggravation in Matt’s very core. Without hesitation, Matt pulls his hand out of his lap and reaches for the glove compartment, removing a pistol from within as he continues to watch Stucky’s every step. The seven stairs of the staircase being ascended, Stucky reaches the doorbell, which he rings four times. After a minute, the footsteps from the other side become more audible, approaching the source on the other end with great anticipation. The door swinging open, the large male figure on the other side of the door stands looking down onto Stucky, only one word leaving his lips in that moment. “Delivered?” the man asks, Stucky pushing the gun, with one fewer bullet in the magazine than when he originally left the home, against the man’s chest. “Yeah, Michael… Message delivered” Stucky replies, walking past the older man without another word, dissatisfied with the reaction he’d received upon his arrival. Head hung, Michael nods to himself before slowly attempting to shut the door, thinking to himself as he does so. Gun in hand, Matt reaches for the handle as his phone begins to ring, the sight of him in his vehicle impossible to makeout from behind his tinted windows. “Matthew Tory” the man responds, hearing Danny’s voice on the other side of the phone upon his greeting. “Stucky just visited me in my hanger, gave me a proposition I thought you’d wanna be clued into” Danny replies, immediately lifting the concern to allow Matt to return his weapon to the glove compartment. “Let me hear it” Matt replies, slowly clipping shut the glove compartment door, attention being given to Danny on the other end of the line whilst his eyes remain glued to the home. “He said he was sent out to kill one of our crew and deliver a meeting time” Danny continues, his words still finding the sweet spot in Matt’s ears as the man’s eyes capture the sight of an older man stepping out onto the porch. Expression changing from one of repressed anger to a more somber, empathetic stare, Matt allows Danny to speak further, the offer being raised one coming with intrigue. “Stucky thinks I should be the one that takes responsibility for the entire enterprise… Keep you in the shadows” Danny explains, admitting the possible reason being to keep the anonymity over Matt’s head, “one way or another, it allows us to cover the bases we need to keep you out of sight.” Walking down the seven stairs, the older man walks through the front gate and out onto the sidewalk, his head turning from Stucky’s car to the vehicle unfamiliar to him. With a change in his expression, the man’s face goes from one of disappointment to one of investment, more hope than anything else, a peculiar sight. “It sounds like a good deal” Matt replies, watching the father begin to slowly approach his vehicle as the keys turn in the ignition, “you should take it.” Lowering the phone from his ear, Matt hangs up the call and pulls his vehicle around, quickly driving off down the street as the older man runs after him, halting his efforts when they become unavoidably futile. Kicking up dirt, Matt’s tires take him away from the home, leaving the gentleman in the dust, a somber look on his face as his head hangs in disappointment, whatever strange hope he had been carrying being left to rot. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “Brook, come on in” Darlene says, putting on her most convincing smile despite the confused glance from the younger girl upon her beckoning. “Is Matt out today?” Brook asks, the first question being raised before she can even step through the front door, her backpack being hurled over her shoulder as Darlene fails to answer the question clearly. “We have some grounds to cover first” Darlene explains, only those seven words leaving her lips as they approach Matt’s old office. Upon entering, the room appears vacant, not a singular person occupying the desk at the end of the room, the decor within changed, brightened from the empty room Matt once occupied. “Did Matt get new furniture?” Brook asks, Darlene figuring out her following answers on the fly, her expectation being that Perry would have already been present. “Your old therapist, Perry, decided to return to his old job” Darlene explains, watching the confusion arise upon Brook’s face, “unfortunately, I was therefor legally required to relieve Matt of his duties.” Posture changing, Brook attempts to combat the statements made by the woman, only for Perry’s return to stifle any immediate reply. “Brook! It’s good to see you again!” Perry calls out, lifting his hand into the air for a high five that never comes. “Look, Perry’s good at his job and everything… But I liked Matt” Brook replies, Perry’s hand falling to his side in disappointment, her words disregarding him as they are voiced towards Darlene. “That’s something you can thank Perry for” Darlene says with a smile, throwing the man under the bus the moment such course of action is offered. “We got along perfectly fine, though!” Perry exclaims with feigned joy, trying to save face as he looks on the positives, a perspective Brook refuses to take. “It might not have been very long, but Matt understood me a lot more in the little time he was here than anyone, including Perry, ever has” Brook explains, unaware of the joy Darlene takes in the girl’s glowing report, “I’m not having any session today unless it’s with Matt.” With a sigh, Perry tucks his hands behind his back, looking around the room whilst suggesting Brook take a seat. “Matt can’t come in today, Brook… Let’s just talk about things and figure out where to go from there” Perry explains, a silent girl turning back to Darlene for reassurance, not receiving much as Perry takes his own seat. “If you want to see something change, let me know” Perry explains, continuing to smile through the ordeal, “we’ll work everything out the way you want it.” Squinting her eyes at him, Brook crosses her arms, playing the role of a bratty teenager refusing to give up her ground. “You want to work things out the way that I want it?” Brook asks, her intentions residing fully on the side of challenging the man’s statement, “go back to your other job and get Matt back here.” With another sigh, Perry hangs his head, frustration beginning to grow within him as he reminds Brook that such a thing is not possible. “Yeah, it is” Brook replies, calling the man out on his bluff, ultimately making the correct call as time would show, “you left the job and chose to come back here… Rescind your refusal and go away.” Biting his lip, Perry takes his attention away from Brook, placing his eyes upon Darlene in full view of Brook. “It’s your job to convince her to take part in therapy, Perry” Darlene explains, refusing to pull the man out of the hole he’s dug himself into, “you’re failing to do your job right now.” Pulling hiss eyes back onto Brook, Perry asks the girl to take a seat where she’s meant to, a gesture which Brook acts in defiance against. Tossing her bag to the ground, Brook asks Darlene to step to the side as she approaches her seat, taking it by the armrests and tossing it across the room. “That was highly inappropriate and uncalled for, Brook” Perry exclaims, his declaration not phasing the girl, who picks her bag up once more and leaves the room. “It looks like some guy off the street did your job better than you did” Darlene explains, watching Perry snarl at her as he shakes his head, refusing to go after the girl, knowing his efforts to be futile. Earning the last laugh, Darlene leaves the room, telling him to cancel this session and prepare for the next one, a gesture which only helps to further add to the tension between the two. | Entering the hidden rear-entry, Matt walks through the club before stumbling upon Danny, who sits in the makeup chair fixing his hair, a sight that puts a smile on Matt’s face. “Ladies, can my friend and I have the room?” Danny calls out, each dancer leaving the space and closing the door behind them. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Matt asks, the smirk on Danny’s face assuring him of his friend’s confidence. “Do you think he’ll recognize me?” Danny asks, Matt walking behind him and looking into the reflection of the mirror just ahead, his face appearing atop Danny’s shoulder. “He’s known you since we were little… Let’s just hope he keeps that between the two of you” Matt replies, walking off into a corner of the room as Danny looks back at him, raising the difficult question on his mind. “Does it sting?” Danny asks, Matt’s back turned towards him, his figure still able to be made out in the dim red lighting the room bathes in. “The fact that he replaced me with a slut and her piped-up son?” Matt asks, fixing the cuff on his jacket before looking over his shoulder, making sure to look in Danny’s eyes as he answers, “not often.” Head hung, Danny leaves his seat and walks up to Matt, the man’s eyes staring into the mirror ahead of him, pulling his hair into the perfect place despite not going anywhere where such appearance is warranted. “You’re not your father, Matt” Danny says, understanding the gravity of their conversation whilst noticing the lack of reluctance Matt has to it, a calm response even being given to his prior statement from the man’s own lips. “And my father’s not me, Danny” Matt replies, a casual nod of agreement coming from Danny’s head, “he’s a much colder man than I am, and he’s not going to take well to finding out that you’re the guy in charge of his rival faction.” With a chuckle, Danny relieves the slight worry in the man’s statement by cracking a joke, one that manages to put a smile on Matt’s face. “I think he’d rather it be me than his own son” Danny quips, allowing laughter to come over both men just as Tyrell peaks his head through the door. “It’s showtime, gentlemen” Tyrell calls out, watching Matt give Danny a hug, telling him to come back safely. “I wouldn’t plan to do anything but, Matt” Danny replies, approaching Tyrell and departing the room, leaving Matt stood in the middle of the floor, alone as far as he’s aware. “One would think discovering you to be the leader of the table would’ve been the biggest shock I’d see this week” Candy says from afar, revealing her presence to the man, which he refuses to even acknowledge directly, “but finding out that you’re a Gilcrest definitely takes the cake.” Clearing his throat, Matt adjusts his sleeve once more, hearing the soft heel-shoed footsteps approach his person, correcting her. “I’m not a Gilcrest, I’m whatever the hell my father was before he married that tramp” Matt replies, slowly looking towards the woman, a fake smile dressed over his chin. “It seems like I’ve made a discovery of my own this week, as well…” Matt continues, watching the woman’s head seductively tilt as she waits patiently for him to voice his findings, “I’ve found the rat.” Throwing one leg in front of the other with each step she takes, Candy lifts her hands by her side as if to suggest that she had no other choice. “I like a fun time and Chris has his hands on whatever makes that possible” Candy explains, a smile tearing through her maroon-colored lips, “but don’t get it twisted… I didn’t know you were in charge until I saw your ring at the bar.” Lowering his eyebrows, Matt promises the woman that he doesn’t believe her, a response that only brings on more curiosity. “That’s fine, but you’ll still be leaving your rat to wander the halls completely unrestricted” Candy replies, her carelessness to defend her stance suggesting to Matt that she’s telling the truth in these regards. “If you’re not the rat, what do you want?” Matt replies, watching the woman’s face scrunch in amusement. “Must you really talk business all the time? Can’t you have a little fun?” Candy asks, her hands running down the man’s chest as she slowly pulls one button after another. Not one for the affection, Matt takes both of her hands into his own and removes them from his person, assuring her that he’s not interested in her advances. “How much does Stucky know about me?” Matt asks, still concerned for his cover. “He doesn’t know you’re still alive… At least… Not yet” Candy replies, watching Matt’s head lift, implying suspicion, “his mom doesn’t remember you ever existed and your father still visits your grave every day.” With a nod, Matt already expects the demands that come next, skipping directly to what Candy wants in return for her silence. “Silence” the woman replies, taking a seat as Matt looks at her with confusion, “you stay quiet about me… I’ll stay quiet about you.” With a laugh, Matt tucks his hands into his pockets, scoffing at the woman’s suggestion. “I’m involved in one big mess, and you want me to just let it continue?” Matt asks, the math not precisely adding up in his eyes, “why would I continue to let you screw your way through my enterprise knowing that you bat for the opposite team?” “Because I don’t belong to the opposite team” Candy replies, throwing one leg over another, “I belong to the guys that come after.” Turning his head, Matt asks the woman to continue, fearing the vagueness behind her words. “Your pops and Stucky’s mom want to keep the Gilcrest name in the northeast… But he knows someone else is right around the corner waiting to take over this place” Candy explains, “they’re waiting for you two to go to war so they can clean up the scraps and set up shop.” “What are you talking about?” Matt replies, watching the woman emerge from her seat, slowly approaching the man, who begins to take worries over her warnings. “East Harlem is on the rise… and they’re expanding” the woman explains, throwing on her well-hidden New York accent, “the work you and the Gilcrest’s have done make this spot a nice set up to have… So they’ll either pick up the scraps after or take it for themselves.” Her fake persona dropped, Candy appears to Matt as a different person to what she had seemed like before, essentially presenting herself as the mouth of Matt’s next great opposition. “You stay hushed about me, and I’ll go back to Harlem with nothing but good things to say about you” Candy explains, watching Matt’s expression sour with unrivaled disgust, “I’ll make sure that, when we roll up, you don’t gotta lose anyone… And you can leave with everything you’ve got.” His lips puckered, Matt looks away from the woman, fearing that any longer of a look will prompt him to kill her in the place they stand in. “Do what you’ve gotta do, Matthew” Candy says, watching the anger-filled eyes of Matt dart back towards her, his name triggering an instinct that presents danger to anyone responsible for speaking it, “just keep my name out of your mouth.” Teeth clenched, hands balled into fists, Matt walks away from the woman, pulling the door open to leave, Candy left behind to think to herself. | “What do you want?” Perry asks, entering Darlene’s offices without knocking, a gesture that brings great annoyance over her. “For a start, knocking would be greatly appreciated” Darlene replies, watching Perry take a seat in front of her desk, waving his hands forward as if to suggest he has little care for what she has to say. “For a second thing, I feel it extremely necessary to remind you that I am your boss” Darlene replies, another reminder which Perry has no care for. “You work for me as far as I’m concerned, Darlene” Perry explains, watching the woman’s face sour at such a notion, “the moment you think otherwise, I’ll take your wrongdoings to the board and have you stripped of all titles.” Grating her teeth together, Darlene begins to press herself, trying to judge whether or not such demeanor is something she’s willing to put up with. Attempting to speak, Darlene is quieted once more, Perry cutting her off to tell her that she’s had this coming since the moment she brushed him off like nothing. “For you to sit there and think some random guy from the street can do what I can is insane” Perry continues, “your inability to present a quality working environment shows in the decisions you make as a leader.” Continuously cut off at every turn, Darlene stays seated, remaining silent as Perry continues to go off on her, his efforts only ended when a harsh knocking at the door presents itself. “Come in!” Darlene shouts quickly, both parties quickly surprised to find Brook entering the room, still dressed the way they last saw her. “Brook? What are you still doing here?” Darlene asks, the young girl explaining that she never left in the first place. “I’ve been hiding in one of the closets for the last few hours” Brook explains, expressing the lines she was willing to cross to speak with Darlene alone. “I didn’t know Perry would be here” Brook explains, both adults in the room putting on smiles, uncertain as how to address the situation. “I’m not coming back here until Matt does” Brook explains, watching Perry’s eyes roll as Darlene walks over to her, “I’m done switching therapists… It’s Matt or no one.” Having heard enough, Perry removes himself from his chair, pointing out Darlene’s inability to recognize the work environment she has been overseeing, citing Brook’s presence as a massive security issue. “You failed to take initiative earlier and you’re failing to accept responsibility now, Darlene!” Perry shouts, both the woman and Brook turning towards the man, waiting for him to continue, “for god’s sake, take initiative!” The demand given, Perry awaits Darlene’s decision, putting himself in a position of control he’s unwilling to release himself from. Her eyes expressing anger, Darlene looks towards Brook, who returns the stare back, willing to take whatever punishment she has coming her way. “Come on, Darlene!” Perry voices again, watching the woman squeeze her eyes shut, frustration boiling too far for there to be room for its relief, “take some goddamn initiative.” Opening her eyes, Darlene comes to her decision, head lowered towards Brook, ready to respond. “Perry Armanti” Darlene calls out, her face leaving the girl and returning to the man, each following word she says being meant exclusively for his ears, “you’re fired.” Crossed arms falling to his side, Perry’s gleeful expression falls, every ounce of frustration that had boiled within Darlene now being fully given to Perry, who practically froths at the mouth in anger. “What the fuck are you doing, Darlene?” Perry asks, watching the woman’s face shine with joy, the sight of his anger coming off like music to her ears. “Please leave the premises or I will be forced to call authorities” Darlene requests, each sound the man makes prompting her to take one step closer to the phone, ripping his power away from him in full. In a moment, Perry slams his fist against the wall and walks past Brook, who looks at the situation with a grin. “So does Matt come back now?” Brook asks, completely disregarding Perry, the answer to her question now the farthest thing from Darlene’s mind. “I don’t know yet… I don’t really know anything yet” Darlene replies, her eyes having drifted away, eventually finding Brook once more, the hoped-for reassurance from earlier now appearing in a pleased smile. | “Remember my orders” Danny calls back, slamming the driver’s door shut immediately thereafter, his feet carrying him through shrubbery, the given coordinates taking him to a cold forest. After a few hundred feet, Danny finds himself staring down a lone figure, stood in the middle of nowhere with his hands tucked in his pockets. “I’m looking for a drug kingpin to meet with in the middle of nowhere!” Danny calls out, walking a short distance further, “do you know where I can find one?” In shock, the patriarch of the Gilcrest family finds his jaw dropping, the sight of a familiar face bringing awe over him. “I suppose you weren’t expecting to see me” Danny calls out, Michael’s legs almost giving out beneath the weight of the sight, “it’s been a long time, old dog.” The surprise too great to speak coherently at first, Michael’s thoughts come around, muttering the name of the man before him beneath his breath. “Daniel?” Michael quips, the propped-up leader of the Table now standing a few short feet away from his greatest rival, staring down the cause for a thousand still-fresh wounds. “It’s been you… the whole time?” Michael asks, watching Danny shrug his shoulders at the gesture, admitting that time has flown too quickly for him to keep track. “I- I don’t know what to say” Michael replies, his mind instinctively carrying him forward, a gesture which prompts Danny to back away. Quickly removing his hands from his pockets, Michael lifts his arms into the air to present a lack of weaponry, a show of good faith being given to Danny. Letting whatever is bound to happen unfold, Danny stands in his place with his hands kept in his pockets, allowing Michael to slowly walk forward, his intentions still unclear. After a few seconds, Michael gets within an arm’s reach of Danny, cautiously standing in front of him, unaware of the hidden blade in Danny’s sleeve. Emotions running high, Michael unexpectedly wraps his arms around the man, giving Danny a hug, prompting the puppet leader to look at his friend’s father in confusion. “It’s been so long” Michael mutters, further confusing Matt’s friend, the interaction not something you’d expect from two people destined to be the greatest enemies of each other. As time passes, Danny realizes where these emotions come from, his presence not being that of the Tables leader in that moment, but as a remnant of Matt, a memory that Michael had lost long ago, a memory that serves greater than any turf war. | Throwing his jacket onto a hook and slamming his front door shut, Matt flicks on the lights to his home and chucks his car keys into a bowl beside the main walkway. “Cool fish” a voice calls out from the living room, prompting Matt’s stroll to stop instantly, his eyes finding a drug-induced man standing in the glow of his fish tank, a gun pointed directly at him. “Put your shit down and join me, won’t ya?” Stucky says, a sadistic smile on his face greeting the man. Having stopped fearing death long ago, Matt nonchalantly throws his briefcase onto the floor and strolls into the living room, leaping into his recliner whilst staring at Stucky, kicking his feet up in the process. “Ballsy… I like it” Stucky exclaims, a feigned smile coming over Matt’s face as a ‘thank you’. “Danny’s meeting with my parents right now, so I hope you’re not expecting a call from him” Stucky explains, one eye squinting as he stares down Matt, the barrel aimed right at his head. “How’s the whole ‘killing my parents thing’ working out for you?” Stucky asks, watching Matt shrug his shoulders. “We’ve taken our first crack at it to no success” Matt replies, pausing for a moment as he considers his next steps on the fly, “we’re recalibrating for the next one.” “So the plan’s still on?” Stucky replies, taking his answer from Matt’s grin, “that’s really good to hear… I thought you’d have gotten cold feet after the first shot.” His expression changing, Matt begins to read Stucky like a book, the addict holding him at gunpoint inquiring over the look. “It was you” Matt replies, his footrest lowering as he slowly stands from his chair, “you blew the whistle on the hit.” With a laugh, Stucky backs away from Matt, each step he takes prompting Stucky to take one step backwards, a game of cat and mouse ensuing. “I wanted to make sure you guys weren’t cared of a little trouble” Stucky replies, watching Matt remove a fire poker from his fireplace, wielding it as a weapon. “You got my men killed” Matt says in a harrowing tone, voice lowering to an almost demonic-growl, “what else have you known about, huh?” Not wanting to blow his chance yet, Matt holds his strike back, wanting to get as much information out of Stucky as he can before making his move. “I guess you’ll have to decide whether or not you want me dead more than you want your answers” Stucky replies, continuing to aim the gun confidently at the man, a lightbulb going on in his head. “I can get my answers from anywhere” Matt replies, one eye squinting as he stops advancing, “I want you dead more.” “Bold strategy, Cotton… Let’s see if it-” Stucky begins to mock, his words stopping when Matt’s phone begins to buzz, the sound emanating from the briefcase, prompting the deranged Stucky to break out into a fit of laughter. “I think you outta get that” Stucky exclaims, backing away more as Matt becomes torn, the call one of importance to him whilst the other getting away with each second. On shortened time, Matt drops the fire poker and reaches for the briefcase, pulling his phone out at the last second and greeting the voice on the other line. Looking towards his front door, Matt finds the spot Stucky had previously inhabited to be vacant, the man currently running away from the scene as the voice on the other end replies. “Brutus?” Matt calls into the receiver, waiting for his muscle’s response. “I get you’re not a fan of living to fight another day” Candy’s voice replies, immediately prompting a disappointed look to come over Matt’s face. “Goddamnit… Candy, don’t-” Matt mutters, cut off by the sound of a gunshot, Candy’s voice responding immediately thereafter. “Sorry, but you don’t get to make an attempt on my life and live to tell the tale” Candy replies, her words being offered as a warning to Matt, “you’re no good for your word… You’ll hear from us soon.” With that, the call is disconnected from the other line, the man taking the phone away from his ears as he looks towards the kitchen, refusing to hurl his phone across the room. Approaching his door, Matt watches Stucky’s car zip past his road, driving away from the scene as Matt walks into the road, watching Stucky drive off without a scratch. == Kings of Cambridge == His finger pressed to his dry lips, Matt looks ahead coldly, facial muscles unmoving, eyelids not blinking, the sounds of the room drowned out as if he had water in his ears. Over time, the muffled words spoken by whomever it is sharing the room with him become more coherent, a pause in their appearance prompting his mind to quicken it’s pace, trying feverishly to bring Matt out of his daydream.
“Matt?” a woman’s soft voice calls out, suddenly jolting the therapist from his portrait-like pose, a quick apology coming before a much needed moment of recomposure. “I’m sorry, Brook… I completely zoned out right there and I don’t know why” Matt replies, face held towards his desk, following the patterns of the stained wood as if that would help him retrace his thoughts. “You seem less like yourself today” Brook mentions, pointing out the paranoia-like flow of his words, admitting that his face can give it away rather easily. “You look spooked” Brook explains, Matt quietly looking at her, allowing her to proclaim her comparison, “like you just saw a ghost but were trying to hide it.” Suddenly cracking a smile, Matt tries to play the incident off as something worth forgetting about, offering the young girl a laugh. “Let’s start again” Matt exclaims, repositioning himself in his seat, arms pressed against the armrests, eyes returning to the girl, “tell me about your week.” Stood before his desk, Brook looks at the man with curiosity, a gesture which he allows her to take part in freely, her look only broken when turning to a corner of the room and picking up a chair. Dragging the long, metal legs of the seat to the forefront of his desk, Brook uncharacteristically sits down, the shift in her comfort within Matt’s presence showing a slight evolution in her attitude. “No” Brook replies, leaning onto the man’s desk and folding her arms atop it, eyes kept firmly upon the man, “let’s talk about your week.” Eyes wandering around the room, Matt reminds the girl that therapy doesn’t work like that, a truth that Brook puts aside for the moment. “You seem like you need to talk more than I do right now” Brook replies, Matt’s expression suggesting a more open approach to the girl’s diversion of course, “besides, don’t they say ‘the best people to sit behind the desk, are the ones that once sat in front of it’?” “Okay, then” Matt replies, his response coming in nearly the same moment as the sun outside breaking through the clouds, allowing the room to glow with a warm embrace. “I recently learned a lot about just how much I ask of people” Matt explains, apologizing for his need to be vague, “and truth be told, while it may be greatly necessary at times, I ask of them a lot more than I ask of myself.” “Is it an expectation?” Brook asks, cutting into the man’s response, prompting his eyebrows to raise with a probin look, “I mean, are these people you put a lot of responsibility on people in positions that deserve it?” Biting his lip, Matt folds his hands together, pressing his index fingers’ knuckles to his lips, “I suppose they are, yes” the man replies. “And with that being said, why do you believe you ask of yourself less than them?” Brook inquires, cutting her question short, refusing to feed the man answers. “If there’s a job that requires heavy lifting, they’re in the position to do the said heavy lifting” Matt explains, removing his lip from between his teeth, “while I direct the work from one direction to another.” Nodding, Brook folds her hands in her lap, comparing the two sides as best as she can with the vague details offered. “What’s more important in what you do, direct the heavy lifting, or the heavy lifting itself?” Brook wonders aloud, watching the intrigued look come across the man’s face. “Neither works without the other” Matt responds, a gleeful Brook holding her hands out in triumph. “So there’s your answer” Brook replies, her lips parting to present a smile, “you should be holding yourself to an equal demand as them… Just different depending on the work you do.” Eyes taken by a random corner of the room, Matt lets out a soft chuckle, silently agreeing with the girl’s conclusion. Tapping the armrests, Matt pulls himself out of his chair, walking around his desk while directing Brook to stand as well. “Go sit in that chair real quick” Matt commands, an amused Brook shaking her head whilst doing as told, casually taking her place upon the chair. “It’s a regular computer chair, Matt” Brook replies, looking up at the man as he smiles back at her, lifting his hand to his chin, sporting the look of a proud father. “It may be a computer chair, but it’s a lot different in importance to the one you were just sitting in” Matt replies, pausing for a moment, “that’s the chair you belong in someday.” Her head hung in a mixture of embarrassment and appreciation, Brook looks towards the man, who she begins to like talking to more with each session, muttering a soft “thanks.” Hands tucking themselves away in his pockets, Matt lifts his shoulders to the level of his chin and lets out a sigh. “Not a problem” the man responds, continuing to look on at the girl, silently hoping the chair she sits upon now is the one she’ll sit atop one day in the future. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = Punching at the curtain in front of him, Danny walks through a sea of scantily-clad women on his way to a deeper part of the building, his progress being stopped upon the sensation of his arm being squeezed. “Danny” a woman whispers, the man turning around to find Candy looking at him anxiously, not another word being exchanged before Danny leads the woman to a dark corner of the dressing area. “I heard about the retreat last night” Candy explains, her voice raised just over a hush, trying to speak over the music, “do any of us need to worry back here?” Waving the woman off, Danny makes the woman promise to keep spirits high in the club this evening. “If anything happens tonight, it’ll be chaos made from people being needlessly paranoid” Danny explains, voicing his experience with issues like these, “they’ll take their time planning something, keep people from going crazy down here.” Without another word, Danny walks away, leaving Candy behind to pick up the pieces where they lay, returning to his originally intended route. Passing a few sets of beads dangling in every other doorway, Danny enters the well-lit backroom, finding a sea of those remaining from last night’s failed job awaiting him. “What did boss say?” Tyrell asks, his head lowering slightly, voice taking on a softer tone when a follow-up question is asked, “did you tell him it was my call?” “He knows it was your call, and he’s less mad for you having made it than he is with me for letting you, Ty” Danny explains, looking to the rest of the room before proceeding forward. “In regards to the retr-” Danny begins, stopped by the sound of the hidden rear entrance opening, a well-dressed Matt entering the room, some of those in attendance seeing his face for the first time. “Gentlemen” Matt says in passing, greeting all members of his crew as they stand in attention, quickly returning to their seats upon Matt’s demand. “Last night I was informed of a retreat” Matt explains, placing his hat atop a rack and tossing his jacket into the arms of one of his men, “tell me what happened in detail… Starting with you, Tyrell.” His face slowly pulling away from the boss in disappointment, Tyrell clears his throat and wraps his fingers within each other. “We launched a stakeout on the ship, watched it dock, watched the Gilcrest’s fleet arrive and board the ship” Tyrell explains, his explanation slowing until its conclusion, “we struck, cleared the inside of the ship, someone realized it was a setup, Tristan and two others were already too close to the fleet by the time the bombs went off.” “Who figured out it was a setup?” Matt asks, looking around the room for a hand to raise, finding the slow lifting of fingers from over the crowd in the back of the room, the person clearly nervous to single himself out. “What’s your name?” Matt asks, the man tripping over his thoughts as he answers the man’s question. “W- Wade… Wade Kellerman” the man replies, doing as suggested when Matt curls his finger towards him. Visibly anxious, Wade approaches the imposing situation before Matt’s hand places itself atop Wade’s shoulder, his calm voice telling him to calm down, assuring him that he’s not in trouble. Wrapping his arm around the man’s neck, Matt tells the crew to look at Wade with appreciation. “Had Wade took a few seconds longer to notice what was going on, some of you might not be standing here right now” Matt explains, watching a few heads drop whilst others lift in respect. “We’re all aware that the Gilcrest’s are going to be coming right back at us demanding answers” Matt explains, patting Wade on the back and allowing him to return to the crew. With a deep breath, Matt looks at each individual face of his men, watching the different looks being offered to him, taking joy in the diversity of opinions he’s held in. “I can’t have another blown call like that one” Matt continues, making it clear that those who can’t pull their weight will be held accountable. “Start setting up your next move in case the Gilcrest’s want heads more than answers” Matt explains, pulling his jacket from one man’s hand whilst grabbing at his hat, “and for god’s sake, run it by me first.” Departing, Matt exits through the rear door and begins walking for his door, a second set of footsteps emerging from behind him, calling out his name. “Are we continuing the conversation from last night or is this about something else, Danny?” Matt asks, nonchalantly turning back. “Do you mean what you said just now?” Danny asks, watching the silent, unchanged expression face him, “are you gonna start holding people accountable.” Hands held by his side, Matt returns to Danny and asks him to recite his own statement verbatim. Unphased, Danny does so, concluding with an emphasis on the word ‘accountable’, “so as I asked before, did you mean what you said?” With a smile, Matt nods towards Danny, answering his question silently before turning back to his vehicle. Halfway through the door, Matt’s efforts are quashed once again, Matt voicing his follow-up. “And what happens if you fuck up?” Danny inquires, watching Matt turn his face back towards his friend, remaining silent, “are you gonna hold yourself accountable then?” Sucking on his lip, Matt refuses to answer his friend’s question, allowing the tension Danny intends on keeping intact simmer. “Goodnight, Danny” Matt calls back, falling into his seat and driving off, Danny left in the back alleyway watching Matt’s vehicle round the corner, disappearing from view. With a grunt, Danny shakes his head and turns back for the door, punching the bin beside the building on his way in to relieve some anger. | “Good morning!” a chipper Perry calls out, meeting Darlene in the clinic’s backhalls, much to her own surprise. “I thought I told you that you needed to be employed here to have access to-” Darlene says, stopped mid-sentence when Perry corrects her. “I am employed here” Perry replies, Darlene’s lips puckering upon the man’s response, questioning herself as to whether or not she heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Darlene asks, the man’s response coming less as a repeated statement and more of an explanation of events. “By law, I have four weeks to rescind my acceptance of other work in order to remain in my former position whilst employed in this clinic” Perry explains, sporting a feverish smile across his face as he breaks news to the confused woman, “I just rescinded my acceptance yesterday and am now legally required to be returned to my old position.” Jaw dropped, Darlene rests her handbag on the ground whilst parting her hair, draping strands over her ears as she apologizes for the inconvenience. “I already filled out your position, so that’s not going to happen for you” Darlene explains, a shoulder shrug coming from the man before her. “You’re not legally allowed to do that yet, so it seems like you’re going to have to fire the guy” Perry replies, shrugging his shoulders with glee, the anger building inside Darlene. “I’m not going to do that” Darlene replies, watching the smile upon Perry’s face grow considerably as he approaches her, prompting her to back away. “Then I’ll take this matter ot the board, they’ll look over our different qualifications and select who to go with based off of that” Perry replies, the expression of Darlene shifting poorly. “What? Did you think it would be impossible to figure out what you were hiding?” Perry asks, the woman now refusing to look at him. “First you chuck me out like I’m worth nothing, then you shun me like I’ve killed the family dog, and then you replace me with some guy off the street” Perry explains, the annoyance in his own voice presenting itself, “do you understand how disrespectful that is to me?” “So what? That gives you the right to come back and taunt me?” Darlene asks, not having expected the man to agree with such a statement. “You kick me out like I’m nothing, replace me with nothing, and then expect me to just move on treating that like it’s okay?” Perry questions, challenging the woman to consider his own feelings for a chance, “what the hell do you think that says about how you value me as a person?” “As a person?” Darlene replies, quickly raising her tone of voice, tears beginning to form in her eyes as the words that leave her lips carry the anger of war, “it’s a lot more than what I value you as right now, you piece of shit.” Grabbing her bag, Darlene turns away from the man and walks to her office, her intent to return to work as if nothing had happened, only for a call out from Perry to make that impossible. “I want that son of a bitch scrub fired by the end of the day or I’m taking this to the board first thing tomorrow morning!” Perry shouts, watching a line of therapists peer their head through their doors to look on at the scene from afar. “I’m sorry, return to work please” Perry calls back to each new face he sees, Darlene vanishing into her office at the end of the hallway, locking the door behind her. | “Thanks for meeting me, Marc” Matt greets, taking a seat at the opposite end of one of many diner tables. “I’m glad you called” Marc replies, lowering his cup of coffee back onto the small plate beside him, “what you said in group has really stuck with me over the last few days.” Putting their orders in upon the arrival of one of the waitress’, Matt directs the conversation down the route he wishes for it to take. “I hope you don’t mind me coming straight out of the gate with this, but I’m dying to know how you coped with everything when you were younger” Matt explains, “not letting it define you now.” Nodding, Marc explains it the same way as he had in their session, refusing to live life based off the progression of others. “A lot of people think they’ve accepted what they’ve gone through until they’re challenged to prove it” Marc explains, “when that happens, the results vary.” “Yeah, I get that… But you, specifically… How did you accept it?” Matt clarifies, the man on the opposite end of the table lifting his shoulders slightly. “I reminded myself of what happened every day until the memories became less painful” Marc explains, trying to sum his difficulties up as simply as possible, “I never thought of reasons for why it happened, or any excuses for it, I just kept thinking about it every day until I didn’t need to anymore.” Resting his head against his dominant hand, Matt looks out of the window the table is set up beside, running over different thoughts in his head. “What was your test?” Matt asks, watching the smile come over Marc’s face, perhaps the most true test of them all having been once laid upon his shoulders. “My family… Siblings and other distant relatives… They never knew about what he did to me” Marc explains, laughing as he continues with his story, taking joy in his growth. “They set up a small get together back in my old hometown on the fifteen year anniversary of his death and wanted to pay tribute to him” Marc explains, recalling pictures and poorly-aged photographs taken of him in a celebration of his life. “I never said anything to them about it all… I didn’t want their memories of him to be ruined like mine are” Marc explains, citing such a belief as the first example of passing a test. “More notably, when they held a moment of silence for him, everything went quiet. No one was talking, the kids were all staying quiet” Marc continues, pausing for a moment as his head begins to shake. “I didn’t feel anything” Marc admits, biting his bottom lip as his eyebrows lift, “they were there celebrating and I just sat there… Not feeling anything.” Staying silent, Matt allows Marc to continue, seeing the joy he gets from recalling his own success. “I think over time, the more that I beat myself with those memories, the more I conditioned myself to withstand them” Marc concludes, “it was never easy at first… But as time went on, I allowed it to remain a part of me rather than letting it become me, do you know what I mean?” Rather hushed, Matt pulls his face away from his hand and nods, words only leaving his mouth after a brief hesitation. “Yeah, something like that” Matt replies, turning towards the waitress as she sets their individual plates down, offering his appreciation. | Taking a wrench to the inside of his plane, Danny listens to the hanger door creak open, prompting him to call out to the onlooking party. “What can I do you for?” Danny asks, already having predicted who it would be. “Do they know I was the one that put out the hit?” Stucky asks, his voice timid, almost worrisome, completely opposite to that of the careless tone of Danny’s own response. “No, they just know it was a botched hit job” Danny replies, pointing towards a toolbox on the other side of the hanger, “grab me that, please.” Arriving alone, Stucky treats the secluded area as a means to speak more openly than he otherwise would when armies are stood behind one another. “How’d they find out?” Stucky asks, returning to Danny with the toolbox in hand, watching the man shake his head in confusion. “I don’t know… All the ties were in tact on our end” Danny replies, leaning his head against the metal exterior of the bird, gently taking the toolbox into his hand, “unless you blew the whistle, I’m working under the assumption that it was their instincts proving their value.” Refusing to throw Tyrell under the bus, Danny inquires to the reason behind Stucky’s presence, drawing his own conclusions for Stucky’s lack of a posse. “My family wants to attack one of your guys to send a message” Stucky explains, painting it out like the Gilcrest’s believe they’ve already won. “I convinced them to let me send their message in my own way” Stucky replies, head dropped as Danny’s eye remains firmly placed upon him, watching out for a potential attack. “I’ve convinced them to meet with you… Leader to leader” Stucky continues, watching Danny’s amusement appear quickly, “what’s so funny?” Shaking his head, Danny slams the engine panel shut and throws a dirty rag over his shoulder, shrugging towards Stucky as he breaks the news to him. “I’m not the leader here” Danny replies, quickly challenged to convince the actual leader to appear instead. “My parents have got no idea who’s in charge around here, so if you want things to be done smoothly, show up and claim ownership” Stucky details, “I think you’d be a better person to meet with than Matt.” Laughing, Danny turns back towards Stucky and asks why he should take his opinion to be worth anything. “You’re a druggie who’s so obsessed with becoming the king of the castle that you’d shoot your own father figure to prove a point” Danny recalls, “you’re a psychopath with a bad habit… What value does anything you say have?” Shaking his head, Stucky reminds Danny that he’s sticking his neck out for him, taking a chance on someone he has faith in to do the right thing. “My parents want to meet at the end of the week… They’re thinking I’m out right now putting a bullet in one of your heads and stapling a piece of paper to his forehead” Stucky concludes, “the fact that I can’t get high before I go back there without looking like I failed to deliver on my promise has me pissed off enough, so cut me a break.” With a sigh, Danny rolls his eyes as his hands place themselves upon his hip, considering the options afforded to him. “Let your parents know that you’ve delivered their message” Danny replies, walking back to his plane before telling Stucky to tread carefully. “You’re befriending the guys that will eventually become your enemies, all to take out your own allies… This is a dangerous game” Danny continues, “don’t go getting yourself killed, kid.” “Thanks for the advice” Stucky replies, rubbing at his eyes as the exhaustion of going cold-turkey begins to truly settle in. “Please, show up to the meeting” Stucky calls back, watching Danny’s head drop, the options afforded to him still being cycled through. “I’ll do what’s best for my men… Whatever choice does that is the one I’ll take” Danny replies, watching a coherent Stucky accept the response by returning the way he came. | “I wasn’t expecting you” Matt replies, leading Darlene into his home, the woman’s hesitancy to advance forward going unnoticed by the man at first. “I met with Marc, the guy from the group meeting yesterday, and the guy’s pretty insightful” Matt speaks, his words ushered towards Darlene, who’s mind runs with such a great amount of thoughts that his words might as well be self-providing. Pouring two glasses of wine, Matt continues to speak, running down the bullet points of his earlier conversation whilst Darlene stands at the front of the room, silently watching the man’s every move. “There’s a piece of me that feels like his advice wouldn’t work for everyone, but that doesn’t meet it isn’t worth trying” Matt continues, returning the cork to the bottle, “I’m gonna hope it solves the last of my problems.” Standing upright, Matt extends one glass towards Darlene whilst lifting the second to his own mouth, stopping halfway upon noticing the woman’s demeanor. “What’s wrong?” Matt asks, lowering his own glass to the same level as the one intended for Darlene, picking up on the internal struggle the woman engages in, conflicting thoughts clearly running through her head. “Darlene, what’s going on?” Matt asks, watching the woman’s eyes lift back to his own, a sudden fear coming over the man, prompting him to lower both glasses to his coffee table. Living two lives, Matt feels both begin to cluster together, not knowing whether to worry about professional matter at the clinic or discovery of his illegal off-clock routines. “Matt…” Darlene begins, pausing for a moment, leaving the man in suspense before concluding her statement, watching the man’s eyes drop as she does, “...you’re fired.” Lips fluttering, Matt breaks out a nervous smile, head tilted to the side as he asks ‘why’, his brain not truly certain on how to respond to such news. “The guy you replaced decided to turn down the offer that he left the clinic for” Darlene replies, “he’s legally allowed to return to his old job within a month.” “That’s not… That… You can convince him to change his mind, right?” Matt replies, immediately shot down by the woman. “No, he’s doing it to spite me… He knows you’ve got no qualifications and he’s threatening to take that to the board to get his job back” Darlene explains, “he’s trying to disrespect me the way he thinks I disrespected him, and if he goes to the board, they’ll fire me for hiring you.” “This is unaccepta-” Matt begins to mutter, his words cut off by Darlene as if they had not begun being spoken. “The matter is done, he’s already been notified and the paperwork to rescind your employment has been filed” Darlene explains, watching the look of betrayal on Matt’s face sprout, “I’m sorry, Matt.” Lips puckering, Matt feels a rage come over him, refusing to let his voice raise at first, keeping a civil tone upon his immediate response. “Get out” Matt says, leaving Darlene to let a tear fall from her eye as she sucks in a deep breath, unable to move her body until the man repeats his demand. “Get out!” Matt shouts, the level of tension in the room breaking the woman from her spell, allowing her to turn her body back towards the door and depart. With the mechanisms of the door clasping into place, Matt feels himself become surrounded by loneliness, the large room he stands in the center of sucking the life out of him. His closest confidants from both his private and public fields of work now on the outs with him, Matt feels the pain begin to weigh upon him, crushing his chest like a stack of bricks all set upon his pecks. Looking down, Matt finds the two glasses of wine, instinctively taking the one meant for Darlene into his hand, staring at it with disgust the more the anger inside of him boils. In a moment of rage, Matt pulls his arm back and sends the small piece of glassware flying across the room, shattering somewhere in his kitchen, also mirroring the fallout of the night prior. Recalling the similarities between tonight and the night before, Matt drops to the ground, taking a seat upon the carpet after letting the stack of bricks bring him down. Leant against his couch, Matt wipes at his face before his eyes fall upon the fishtank ahead of him, his attention stolen by the peculiar sight before him. Pulling himself up, Matt approaches the tank, allowing the blue lights that illuminate the water to encompass his face. Swimming alone in the water, surrounded by nothing, the biggest fish in the tank goes about its day like nothing is different, the symbolism of this sight bringing a smile to Matt’s face. Keeping his eyes upon the fish as he reaches for the bottle of flakes, sprinkling an assortment at the top. Whilst the big fish eats, the rest of the fish slowly emerge from whatever corners of the tank they once inhabited, eating alongside the big fish the moment food arrives. Nodding, Matt considers his job done, taking joy in the biggest fish in the tank being surrounded by his peers once again. “Sleep tight, guys” Matt mutters to the fish, making peace with the situation in his own way as he flips the switch, bringing darkness over the living room. Hand placed upon his door, Matt prepares himself for bed by cutting himself off from the remainder of the massive home, retreating to his own corner to prepare for whatever may come next. == Kings of Cambridge == Stepping through the door, the sound of ongoing conversations play to Matt’s ear, his intentions residing elsewhere for the moment. “How’re you doing?” Matt inquires, stopping at Darlene, her shoulder leant against the doorframe, arms folded as she watches the circle in the middle of the room continue to chat amongst themselves. “I’m good… scary is all” Darlene replies, her head only aimed towards Matt during her answer, returning to the group immediately thereafter.
“Go have a seat” Darlene urges Matt, the man turning towards her with a beguiled look. “I’m fine right here, thank you” Matt replies, surprised at the woman’s lack of opposition. Remaining silent, Darlene allows the man to remain stood away until a feminine voice calls out from the circle, Matt’s name being lifted into the room. “Matthew Tory?” the woman calls out, metaphorically grabbing the man’s ear, “we were told you would be joining us today!” With glee, the woman pulls an empty chair into the circle, expanding the circumference of the group as she ushers the man to his seat. “I gave you a chance to do it yourself, didn’t I?” Darlene mocks, flashing the man a smile as he shakes his head in disapproval, putting on a brave face as he nears his seat in an effort to not be rude. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s all welcome Matt to the group” the woman exclaims, the innermost thoughts Matt holds being fear that she’ll get too used to him being involved. “I’m just here to learn about all of this” Matt explains, the woman’s intrigue in him only growing with each word he lets fall from his lips, “I think it would be a great learning experience.” “Okay, then” the woman replies, the two words being the only one she would answer Matt’s explanation with before turning her head to the group, silently expressing her lack of convincing. “Tonya, why don’t we start with you?” the woman at the head of the group calls out, a young woman, likely between the ages of thirteen and seventeen, beginning to speak with aa lack of confidence, one arm pulling another close to her body, a wall being put up the longer she speaks. “I’m Tonya, and my mom and dad were users” Tonya replies, introducing herself. At first, Matt’s head begins to pound, a headache coming on and dulling out the sounds of the group’s voices. In a moment of clarity, a gentle nudge of an elbow into his arm returns him to the present, his eyes looking to the side, the woman in charge of the meeting having jolted him out of his spell without even needing to look at him, her eyes still directed towards the younger speaker. “It’s been a hard road… Learning everything about the world on my own” Tonya explains, taking a pause and a sigh before concluding her statement, “I don’t really know if it’s possible yet.” Without hesitation, another voice calls out from the opposite side of the circle, the voice directing itself towards the internally battled young woman. “It is” a more mature voice explains, the man speaking with both hands against the sides of his chair, “it’s just more difficult to see in your shoes.” “I think now is a perfect time to introduce yourself” the woman replies, the thirty-or-so year old man stepping out of his chair, the gesture not necessary, just one that he does for the point of it. “My name is Marc, I’m thirty six years old. My mother died of an overdose when I was seven and my father molested me until he died in a car accident when I was twelve” Marc replies, hitting the group with an emotional gut punch immediately out of the gate. “Many men don’t usually consider themselves victims of sexual abuse openly, Marc” the woman explains, clutching at her leather-wrapped notebook tightly, “how do you have such courage to act differently?” Even without wanting to be present for the meeting, Matt begins to take more interest in the stories being told once Marc steps up, captivated by the difference in Tonya’s story from that of Marc’s. “There are places where you can blame your past for setting up your future pretty often… I just try to make it so that those places are so few and far between that they don’t really exist anymore” Marc replies, putting smiles on the faces of all, including Matt. “It’s not really bravery, it’s acceptance… I suffered through what I suffered through” Marc explains, confidently returning his stare towards Tonya, “I take pride in being my own man in spite of that, not because of that.” “That’s a big change between your situations” Matt proclaims, expecting the statement to just be one of unimportance, falling upon deaf ears as the conversation rolls on. Much to his chagrin, the still-unnamed woman singles out that response, turning towards him with a wide smile. “Look around you, Matthew… People of all different ages, sizes, shapes, backgrounds, etcetera” the woman explains, “their stories are as diverse as they are.” Fighting off the urge to become invested, Matt allows himself to settle in slightly, giving the woman a brief nod before leaning inwards, patiently awaiting further discussion. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “We’ve got her boys!” Tyrell shouts, a phone held into the air, clutched within his hand as he enters the rundown hanger, a chorus of cheers greeting him upon his declaration. “You’ve got the misses?” Danny asks, extending his arm out to catch the phone Tyrell tosses to him, a slate of messages offered up as individual proof. “How the fuck did you do it?” one of the table’s crew calls out, an amused Tyrell remaining silent, allowing his shit-eating grin to do the talking. “You’re gonna get the first lady of the second-largest cartel in the northeastern chunk of the country into position for an assasination, and then you’re gonna not tell us how you did it?” another voice calls out, finally breaking the man. “Alright, alright… It wasn’t that difficult truly” Tyrell explains, “I got in contact with one of their dealers, took care of him and made contact all the way up the ladder until I climbed high enough to find someone important. I took it from there.” “So what do they think’s going on?” another voice calls out, Danny still reading through the text messages, his face souring with each line of dialogue he reads further into. “They think their supply is being tipped off to authorities and want to set up an earlier exchange time” Tyrell replies, his hand lifting into the air, one finger pointing towards Danny, “the show’s all yours from here, buddy.” “This isn’t going to work” Danny replies suddenly, his negative declaration only serving to bring down the mood of the entire crew, Tyrell’s enjoyment plummeting. “Why won’t this work?” Tyrell inquires, patiently awaiting the man’s call, annoyed at his work being discredited, but still keeping the wherewithal to take in all differing opinions. “They told you… Outright told you, a random street dealer, that they’d be moving earlier” Danny replies, both arms thrown outwards, “that makes no sense.” “No, no, no… This is their highest-level street guy” Tyrell explains, Danny’s posturing remaining unchanged, if anything, only appearing to be more confident in his original disapproval. “Perhaps so, but it’s still a street guy” Danny replies, tapping the knuckles of his fingers against the phone screen, “why would they tell some street seller what their big move is gonna be? Again… It makes no sense!” With a sigh, Tyrell plants both hands by his waist, looking at Danny with a challenging stare, remaining stood by his own approach. “I’ve got this chick under the assumption that her captain fucked up and tipped off the cops… She’ll want to speak with him, and the only way to do that is to beat the cops to the punch” Tyrell explains, “so one way or another, even if she switches herself out with someone else, there’ll be someone of importance approaching that ship.” “Maybe you’re both right” another voice calls out from the other side of the hanger, one of the crew stepping away from a getaway car with oil covering his face. “Maybe she’s bound for the ship ahead of schedule but also doesn’t want to clue a street guy in” the man exclaims, “perhaps she’s rerouting the ship to another port?” With a smile, Tyrell looks at Danny, who appears to take on more confidence with such a suggestion. “Tristan’s got a point!” Tyrell exclaims, his shoulders shrugging towards Danny as he inquires into the next steps, “what’s the call, D?” Looking around the room, Danny is left perplexed, the reminder of what they’re beginning sticky well onto his mind as he makes his decision. | As stories continue to be recalled, Matt remains hunched forward in his seat, listening into everything, taking every detail down in his head and patiently taking his time to digest these new pieces of information and advice. “I guess that boils it down to you” the woman calls out, her words aimed towards Matt, who fails to notice this at first, surprised upon his story being called upon next. “Oh, I’m just here for the new experience” Matt explains, quietly brushing off the woman’s suggestion, passing himself off as just another counselor looking to sit in and learn. The room silent, Matt looks back to the woman, feeling her warm eyes call him out on his bluff, the rest of the room also noticing the urge in Matt’s body language, his subtle hints at not wanting to speak. “I think the group would disagree” the woman explains, watching Matt’s face slightly lower, hands rubbing against themselves as he resides within a corner he’s backed himself into, nowhere left to run. Giving in, Matt slides his fingers over the palm of his hand, taking his time before standing up, fixing his shirt with his change in stance. “My name is Matthew Tory, and my parents were hard drug users” Matt replies, his head hanging as he goes silent, the group silently watching on. “I grew up very lonely, my brother and I were very distant and cold to each other, and I was raised by other people” Matt explains, his voice becoming more stern the longer he speaks. “My little brother eventually got hooked on some stuff and died shortly after my twenty-first birthday” Matt continues, noticing Darlene watching from out of the corner of his eye, “every day, I remember him as a druggie bastard by parents never had the balls to raise. I blame him and not them.” With a sigh, Matt pulls his eyes away from Darlene and returns them to the group, not yet satisfied with the story he’s crafted, his intentions becoming that of a man wishing to hammer his own point home. “I went to college and never really looked back… I may have carried blame on my brother, but I carried a lot of disdain for my parents… And I mean a lot” Matt explains, “I fell into what I fell into and have just kept moving… My parents are dead to me, and I’m sure I’m dead to them too.” Not really certain what point to touch upon first, the woman in the middle of the room attempts to ease Matt’s spirits, her efforts soon to fall upon deaf ears. “Many people think their parents view them differently than they actually do, Matthew” the woman explains, her final portion of the statement inciting an immediate response from the man. “Don’t call me that” Matt says calmly, his chin lifting as he addresses her concerns, “and it’s not what I think, it’s what I know.” With a deep breath, Matt gazes back at the middle of the therapy clinic, the garden just outside, as filled with death as it is, brings closure upon Matt. “They could never love the man that I am… It’s against who they are in every conceivable way” Matt explains, head turned to the group so they can’t see his eyes shut, “If I’m not dead to them, I’d be better off dead for them.” His eyelids violently pressing together, Matt embraces the rush of anger that comes over him before settling himself down, eyelids parting to reveal the same dead garden as before. With a nod, Matt turns his body and returns to his seat, hands politely folded in his lap as he looks throughout the room. “Okay” Matt exclaims, turning towards the woman with a smile, “where were we?” | “It’s all going to go down real quick once they arrive, so be prepared” Danny explains, he and his crew camping out in a vehicle a fair distance away from the meeting point. “Here they come” Danny calls out, watching a fleet of vehicles arrive, driving in one line, each car dawning flags with the cartel’s logo on it as if they were the presidential motorcade. “I told you I knew what I was doing” Tyrell jokes, nudging an amused Danny as an eighteen wheeler strolls up. “If we’re killing the matriarch, we might as well collect ourselves something in the process” Danny explains, giving the signal for his crew to prepare their strike for after the drugs have been loaded. “We’re starting a war tonight, D” Tyrell quips, Tristan whispering his pleasure in taking their rightful place atop the northeastern drug trade, a fistbump accepted by both Danny and Tyrell. Emerging from the vehicle, the matriarch, dawned in a large fur coat, struts up the steep ramp towards the entrance of the boat, one member of her cartel following her at a time. “Start advancing, boys” Danny calls into the radio, their window of opportunity having been offered, a line of doors opening a few yards away allowing his small army to emerge, one prinary objective in mind. “Here we go” Danny calls out, emerging from his vehicle as the rest do the same, weapons adorned as their feet carry them to the ship. “Hey!” one of the opposing cartel guards calls out, a bullet fired from Danny’s gun before he can speak another word, the man’s brains being spilled onto the concrete within a moment’s notice. “This is where it all gets brutal, motherfuckers!” Tyrell shouts, firing off multiple rounds towards the cartel, each side beginning to find cover. Low on available men, those on the Gilcrest’s side are quickly outnumbered by Matt’s men, the invading cartel swiftly taking control of the grounds outside the ship, picking off one man after another as they deboard. Without issue, a portion of the Table’s forces begin to advance towards the loading bay, entering the ship and firing at everyone that doesn’t sport the same dark shade of black as themselves. One after another, muffled gunshots ring out from the ship, screams and whales of agony emerge from the boat’s depths, Danny, Tyrell and Tristan left to only hope for the best as they wait patiently for results from the outside. “Keep your eyes out, let’s not get hit from behind!” Danny shouts, adding specific orders to steer clear from the motorcade line as gunshots become more spaced out, silence filling the air more often than any other noise until silence is all that’s left. As a few seconds pass, no further gunfire is exchanged, allowing Danny the confidence to call out for a response from within the vessel. “We’ve got ‘em!” one of the Table shouts, a roaring cheer coming over Matt’s cartel on the outside, a look of relief coming over Danny’s face as Tyrell pulls him into a hug. “Tristan, go sweep the cars for any trace of us” Danny calls out, taking a deep sigh of relief as he begins to slowly approach the loading ramp. “The right call was made tonight, D!” Tyrell shouts, arm resting over the shoulder of the quiet man, the sounds of war staying with him for the moment, his joy slowly coming over time. “We still started a war… Now we’re in it” Danny replies, eyes turning towards Tyrell, his warnings carrying dread opposite to that of Tyrell’s temporary victory, “they’re gonna come firing back on all cylinders and we need to be ready for that.” “We will be, brother” Tyrell replies, matching the emotion of the man beside him, patting his chest, “we only got one dude left and then they’re done… We can handle this.” With a nod, Danny pulls in Tyrell for another hug, patting him on the back and congratulating him on a well-earned victory, a single crewmate of the Table emerging from the ship in a mad dash. “She’s not here!” the crewmate shouts, standing in the entry to watch his fellow men begin to slowly lose their appetite for celebration, Danny immediately asking for clarification. “Are you telling me she’s dead somewhere out here, or are you telling me she’s not here period?” Danny replies, holding out the strongest of hopes for the prior option to be the response. “She’s not here period” the crewmate replies, bringing a barrage of confusion and dissatisfaction over the crew, questions that need answers being left without any in the moment. “What about the woman in the fur coat?” Danny asks, his heart skipping a beat as the crewmate explains that it was just another one of the Gilcrest’s men. “What kind of guy wears a fur coat on a drug run?” Tyrell calls out, Danny turning back towards him with his eyes widened. “A fucking decoy” Danny replies, watching Tyrell’s jaw drop before glancing towards Tristan, their fellow crewmate continuing to open the door to each individual vehicle. “Tristan! Get away from!-” Danny shouts, his warning call disrupted by a massive fireball spitting out over the port’s midnight air, each vehicle bursting into flames, allowing Danny to watch his friend become engulfed by the inferno within an instant. As they start to regain their hearing, the crew watches the inferno continue to burn amidst the backtrack of distant sirens. “Tristan!” Danny shouts, his face feeling the pulsating heat of the fire as he calls out, holding onto hope that the man would have emerged alive, even if slightly burned. His arm being taken into the grasp of Tyrell, Danny is led away from the scene, his hope fading as the Table retreats. | “Come in” Darlene calls out, affording Matt the pleasure of entering her office, his concerns obvious as made evident by his facial expression. “You’re here to talk to me about the results again, right?” Darlene inquires, Matt breaking out into a smile, both shoulders lifted. “The tests came back negative! Isn’t that important to you?” Matt replies, the busy woman shuffling through papers with a pen pressed between her knuckles. “Apparently not as much as it is for you” Darlene replies, already used to the smiles given to her well before she met Matt. “Listen, no one else goes for a cancer screening and comes back to a roar of applause when it’s negative… Why should I?” Darlene asks, leaving Matt without much of a reasonable response. “You’re different” Matt replies, watching Darlene’s eyebrows lift as she moves her glasses further down on her face, “it’s okay to be different… It’s okay to not be everyone else.” With a huff, Darlene lets her pen fall to the keyboard, her glasses being removed from her face and tossed upon a stack of books. “Which Matt am I getting right now? The therapist Matt or the person Matt?” Darlene asks, the man’s shoulders falling upon her quam. “The person Matt” the man replies, one finger remaining held in the air, “he just so happens to speak a lot like the therapist Matt.” With a chuckle, Darlene stands out of her seat and walks around her desk, casually approaching the man at the opposite end of the room and staring into his eyes. “You’re hiding something behind those” Darlene explains, watching Matt’s pupils dilate, his hands becoming tense at the idea of secrets being uncovered. “You’re hurting inside” Darlene explains, Matt only left to patiently await the conclusion she’s come to, “you’ve never forgiven yourself for how you view your family.” Struck by a wave of relief, Matt lets out a deep breath, nodding to himself as he walks past the woman, creating a distance between them. “It’s not your fault for the way that your family conducts themselves” Darlene explains, Matt’s back turned towards her so she can’t see him smirk, his intentions remaining on keeping his backstory the same as he presented it in the earlier meeting until the woman says something that brings him a sudden anger. “You’re not your family… You’re your own person” Darlene explains, unaware of Matt’s visual change in expression, his nose scrunching as he takes in deep breaths, trying to collect himself. “You have no clue who I am” Matt replies, the anger he carries prompting him to share more than he would otherwise like to, the truth gradually slipping out in vague statements. “I know what you’re willing to do for other people, and it’s a lot more than most” Darlene replies, noticing the man’s voice to have changed in complexion. “I do as much for people as I do to them” Matt replies, only further confusion Darlene, the woman’s words intended to help the man, only to result in a worsening of the man’s attitude. “What are you talking about?” Darlene asks, looking off in confusion until Matt turns around, returning to her side. “My parents weren’t users, they were sellers… I’m not a child of addicts, I’m a child of addict makers” Matt replies, revealing a piece of himself to Darlene that he often couldn’t even admit to himself. “I try to help people battle their demons because my folks helped people give into them… I help people give into them…” Matt explains, forcing himself to regain his composure, the mask of anonymity beginning to slip away with every revelation, “I’m obligated to do this job.” Staying silent, Darlene lets Matt vent, taking his words to be nothing more than his way of trying to blow off steam, refusing to hold him back. “I have somewhere to be” Matt says calmly, turning around and leaving the office, Darlene’s attempts to persuade him back falling short, her door slowly gliding shut with Matt on the other side. Emerging from the building, Matt sets his eyes upon his parked car, the lights flashing as he reaches for his door, noticing a familiar woman walking off. “Excuse me?” Matt calls out, the leading woman from the meeting before turning around to see the man approaching her. “Matthe-” the woman begins, correcting herself as the man laughs at his earlier remarks. “Go ahead, you can call me whatever you want” Matt replies, his hands tucked into his pockets as he comes to a stop just before her, “I shouldn’t have reacted to you in that way back there and I apologize for that.” Her head shaking, the woman promises to have not taken the replies personally. “You’ve got a lot of stuff in your life to be worked up over… Some people never get away from it fully” the woman explains, “don’t let that persuade you from moving on in life.” With a laugh, Matt promises that his past has never kept him from moving forward, admitting it to have been the only reason for his survival at times. “There’s was too much going on back there… Stuff I didn’t want to get involved in” Matt explains, struggling to find the words to adequately paint what he’s trying to say, “I would’ve died if I went back… There wasn’t anything to go back to, so the only choice was to keep going forward.” “Some people don’t move forward and don’t go back… They just wallow in the same pit for as long as it takes them to do something else” the woman explains, lending the man a useful piece of advice. “Even if you don’t feel like you moved forward to the right thing sometimes, just saying you moved forward is a lot more than most others can relate to” the woman concludes, beginning to walk back to her car. “Hey, I never did get your name!” Matt calls back, watching the woman turn around with a smile. “I’m Claudia” the woman replies, turning back for her vehicle upon wishing the man a good night. Whispering her name back to himself, Matt turns back for his vehicle, eventually pulling his door open and placing his foot into the vehicle. Before Matt can sink into his seat, the sight of a parked car across the street suddenly driving off without any lights strikes him as odd. Reaching for his phone, Matt types into his phone before pulling his vehicle onto the road as well, keeping his eyes peeled for any unwanted attention. Pulling onto the side of the road, Matt exits his vehicle and walks a few blocks back to his home, entering to an already-illuminated flat. Acknowledging the oddities of the day, Matt reaches into his briefcase and removes a pistol from one of its many pockets, taking aim at the foyer and proceeding forward with caution. “Show yourself or I’ll fire on sight” Matt warns whomever may be residing within, a confused call of his name emerging from the living room. With a sigh, Matt shakes his head and places the pistol on his kitchen counter, uncoupling his sleeve cuffs and approaching his fish tank, half-heartedly greeting Danny on his way in, his right hand man slumped in his seat on the couch. “What happened tonight?” Matt asks, Danny feeding him one bullet point after another, all whilst Matt nonchalantly feeds his fish. “The cars went up, Tristan was taken out, and we retreated” Danny concludes, a scowl coming over Matt’s face upon the declaration of their loss. Not wishing to be a pain in the ass to his most trusted ally, Matt uses the fish tank’s reflection to assist in his removal of the unflattering look, only turning back to the man upon its removal. “Any word from the Gilcrest’s?” Matt asks, rolling his sleeves up, a silent shake of the head coming from Danny as he mutters, “not yet.” With a sigh, Matt looks towards the skylight above his living room, shaking his head and asking any gods above what he did wrong. Pouring Danny and himself a glass of scotch, Matt takes a seat in his recliner, both he and Danny keeping their eyes forward, not wanting to look at each other as losers. “So we’ve started the war off with a wet fart, and now it’s turned out to be a real shitstain” Matt whispers to himself, his words slightly echoed as he speaks them into the cup in his hand, “ain’t that just comical?” Biting his lip, Danny shakes his head in the upmost disappointment as he downs the entire drink in one chug. “Why did you ‘okay’ the move?” Matt asks, his head finally turning to acknowledge Danny, eyes squinting as the man responds, confused. “What?” Matt asks, head slightly arched forward, Danny unable to wipe away the defeated smile on his face. “I said… I didn’t okay the move” Danny replies, prompting Matt to push his footrest away, leaving his chair and walking over to his second in command. “I employ you with the expectation that you are the only other man responsible for making calls, second only to me” Matt begins to exclaim angrily, “have I not made this clear enough in the past?” “You have” Danny replies weakly, resting his glass upon the table beside him as he climbs to his feet. “Why did you not make the call then, Daniel!?” Matt shouts, the anger-fueled dialogue of the Table’s head only matched by Danny’s loud-voiced, yet shout-less tone. “It wasn’t my call to make, Matthew” Danny replies, the man opposite him completely disregarding the name used, both hands thrown out by his sides. “They’re all your calls to make!” Matt shouts, wide-eyed. “This one wasn’t my call to make!” Danny replies, still not shouting. “Who made the fucking call then!?” Matt replies, still shouting. “Tyrell made the call.” Danny responds, again, not yet shouting. “Why the fuck did Tyrell make the call!?” Matt shouts back. “Because he did the work and I didn’t had two equally-reasonable choices” Danny replies, his tone now slightly increasing. “He doesn’t get the blame for shit like this, YOU DO!” Matt shouts back, now practically screaming. “That’s why I’m here and he’s not!” Danny calls back, now beginning to shout. “Then he shouldn’t be making the call!” Matt screams. “Well, he did!” Danny shouts back. “Why did you let him!?” Matt screams in response. “Because I chose to!” Danny shouts in retaliation. “Tyrell should not have been the one making that call!” Matt screams back. “That’s tough shit, ain’t it!?” Danny now screams back. “Tough shit!? Why is that!?” Matt screams. “Because I fucking said so, jackass!” Danny screams harshly. For one second, and only one second, there is silence. In a burst of anger, Matt turns away from Danny and launches his partially-filled glass into the kitchen, allowing it to shatter beyond the shadows. Looking away, Matt’s head turns back to Danny’s, both men speechless as their chests puff up and down to make room for the air in their lungs. Unwilling to keep the screaming match going, Matt waves his hand, calling off the conversation and walking away. “Call Levi, tell him there’s no room to make the run anytime soon” Matt proclaims, leaving his kitchen and walking for his bedroom. “He’s dead” Danny responds, prompting Matt to turn back, placing his eyes upon the man, watching his friend depart the living quarters and approach him with the embroidered logo of the rental car company in his hand. “I showed him the cooking site and offered him the spot… Just like you asked of me to do” Danny explains, holding the evidence-carrying hand up, “he said no.” Pushing the logo into Matt’s chest, Danny pulls his hand away and allows Matt to look at the patch himself, a blood-stain on the bottom half of it confirming Danny’s story. “I took him out back and put him down… Used the acid to dispose of him” Danny explains, locking eyes with Matt before leaving his home, “but yeah, you go ahead and tell me how awful it is to sit back and work a nine-to-five while the rest of us figure out how falling asleep works.” With that statement, Danny leaves, slamming the door shut on his way out as Matt remains stood in the hallway, automatic lights turning out overhead until only one remains, surrounding him in a sea of black. == Kings of Cambridge == “The little shit’s actually serious” Danny explains, one of a select few bodies surrounding Matt in the comfort of the therapist’s lofty estate, “he wants the empire to himself, nothing more, nothing less.” Clearing his throat, Matt claps his hands together, sliding his palms back and forth, “this is the strangest method of ‘flying the nest’ that I’ve ever seen” Matt replies, standing from his chair and approaching his fish tank.
“Should I start getting ready for ‘dope hunting’ sir?” Brutus asks, Matt looking over his shoulder, gravelly voice becoming present with each swig of scotch he takes down. “No, Brutus… Not yet, at least” Matt replies, extending his arm towards a bottle of fish food neatly placed amidst a table full of prescription pill bottles. “If he wants us doing anything, he’s gotta prove he’s good for his word” Matt explains, popping the bottle cap up and sprinkling the water with flakes. “His mom and pop aren’t exactly known for keeping their end of a deal” Matt explains, head drifting over his shoulder again, flakes no longer falling from the bottle, “let’s make sure that apple fell far from the tree.” Limited on options, Danny weighs the openings they could have, a thought coming over his mind. “Why doesn’t he just stage a coup if he’s serious?” Danny asks, Matt’s head drifting towards his direction, “if he wanted the empire so bad, why not take it himself?” “Supplies” a man in the back quickly replies, gaining the attention of all in attendance, “if he stages a coup against his own parents, everyone his cartel does business with will fear his ability to lead.” With a laugh, Matt takes his attention to the back of the room, arms held by his side. “We’re glad to have you back, Tyrell!” Matt exclaims, a wide grin from one ear to the other greeting the longtime associate, “go ahead and say it one more time, my dear friend!” “If he does the deed himself, every runner, supplier and connection he has will fear they could fall to the same fate as his folks” Tyrell explains once more, “if we do it, his status as ‘heir to the throne’ is only questioned by a rather-heavy drug addiction.” Head nodding, Matt continues to look at Tyrell as Danny comes to a similar conclusion. “He’s giving us the territory so our rep isn’t damaged by taking out those on the other side” Danny explains, earning Matt’s focus once more, “even if we look bad, we’re the only crew to work for in town.” His smile not having faded, Matt lifts his face towards the sky and mutters loud enough to himself for the rest of the crew around him to hear, “I got myself lucky with these guys.” “That still leaves one problem” Danny admits, his eyes falling upon a map at the very back of the room, multiple different colors shading every inch of land pictured. “Where is he setting up next and how is it going to come back to bite us?” Danny asks the group, Matt’s eyes falling upon the image. “Good question, Danny” Matt replies, swiftly spinning around, the smile again having failed to fall from his face, “grab a crew and find that out for me.” = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “I come unarmed” Stucky exclaims, both hands lifted into the air, arms bent at the elbows, a small fleet of armed henchmen approaching him cautiously. “Thanks for coming” Danny replies, walking away from the open engine panel of his small cropduster with a towel in hand, wiping the grease from his palms as he nears a table. Cleared, Stucky walks further into the hanger, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table to Danny, the cringe-worthy smile on his face never fading. “Did you call me here looking to make a deal?” Stucky asks, his dominant hand placed upon the back of a metal chair, Danny already having taken his own seat, “because my terms aren’t changing.” Lifting one hand from the table, Danny gestures for Stucky to take a seat, the man doing as instructed with a chuckle, allowing Danny to begin their conversation. “There’s no re-negotiating here, Stuck… We’ll gladly whack your parents” Danny replies, the statement his words put out holding no care for life, “we just want to make sure you can’t go back on your word.” With a nod, Stucky admits to the man that he had assumed this to be a subject to bring up, both hands lifted into the air in a gesture of surrender, “I’m not my parents… I keep my word to anyone I offer it to, Mr. Danny.” “Okay, kid” Danny replies, leaning forward with his hands folded atop the table, “give me some reason to believe what spills from your mouth.” Unable to hold back his amusement, Stucky applauds the phrasing of Danny’s suggestion, reaching for his bag and unzipping the closest pocket. “I have to give it to you, Mr. Danny… You’re good at your job” Stucky replies, an unenthused ‘thank you’ being used to respond to Stucky’s approval, Danny’s eyes watching a folded map emerge from the bag. Turning the map upside down, Stucky presents a map of the southern states, boundary lines drawn in specific places, circles and other markings adorning the paper. “It’s complicated for a reason, but be lucky I knew enough to be as vague as I was… You actually get to see it first-hand now” Stucky explains, a single finger pointing towards the most spacious part of the area. “This is Macon… Georgia” Stucky explains, a marker-drawn circle surrounding the entire length of the city’s borders, “this is where I’ll be taking the head of my operations to.” Reading the map carefully, Danny watches the paper slowly fold back upon itself, Stucky not willing to allow Danny to read any further than he allows him to. “I’m going to take over the South, so you can have everything up here” Stucky explains, “I may be a druggie, but I’m a wizard when I need to put together a plan.” Unable to downplay the man’s well-planned efforts as suggested by the mapping, Danny leans back in his seat, arms folded, eyes reading Stucky for everything he’s worth. “How certain are you in this plan?” Danny inquires, watching Stucky’s head tilt, a silent request for more specifics, “your mother and father did so much just to get their empire up and running… How certain are you that you’ll be able to do everything they did and more?” Either because of chills or his latest fix winding down, Stucky begins to shake violently, slowly coming to a stop within moments, the smile never leaving his face for a second, eyes as bloodshot as they always are. “That’s not really much of your concern now, is it?” Stucky asks, watching Danny match the addict’s smile, arms still folded upon each other. “No” Danny replies, a satisfied shake of his head, “no, it is not.” | “Come in!” Darlene calls out upon a set of knocks, Matt emerging from the other side of her door. “Are you in need of assistance?” Darlene asks, Matt’s face sporting confusion, his head tilting to one side as if to ask for clarification. “I don’t believe so” Matt replies, a nod coming over the woman that signs his paychecks. “Good, save it until after my lunch” Darlene replies, her feet resting upon a second chair as her attention is given fully to the program running on her television. “I was just going to ask what the whole incident between you and that guy was the other night” Matt replies, Darlene’s teeth stopping, the food in her mouth remaining unchewed as she reaches for the remote. “How much of it did you see?” Darlene asks, looking down at her lunch as the television powers off, fork imbedding itself into crunchy lettuce as Matt answers. “How much did I see?” Matt asks, purposefully putting emphasis on the ‘see’ portion, “all of it” he answers. Her chewing getting slower, Darlene asks another question. “And how much of it did you hear?” Darlene asks, adding emphasis to ‘hear’, to which Matt responds, “all of it.” With a nod, Darlene continues to stare at her salad as she replies to Matt, refusing to pull her attention away from her food for the moment despite obviously losing her appetite. “He was the guy that quit last week” Darlene replies, stabbing at her meal with the plastic fork, “he was the reason for why I chose to hire you.” Taking a seat on the opposite side of the woman’s desk, Matt continues the conversation, his employer continuing to refuse him eye contact. “You seemed flustered” Matt explains, his response instantly prompting Darlene to freeze, the fork hanging in mid-air, the only thing moving being her chest, expanding to allow her to breath. “Are you oka-” Matt begins, cut off mid-sentence by Darlene, the woman answering not with anger, but rather the subtly she had been answering with through the duration of their conversation. “He was keeping me from a doctor’s appointment” Darlene replies, keeping the information she offers brief and vague, a cold shoulder being given to the man intentionally. “A doctor’s appointment in the middle of the night?” Matt asks, watching Darlene put the bowl down upon her desk, eyes finally making contact with those of Matt, her expression appearing very unsatisfied. “Are you trying to interrogate me?” Darlene asks, defensive, treating Matt as if he were a nosy family member she was tired of interacting with, “what does anything about my conversation with Perry have to do with you?” With a deep breath, Matt hangs his head with his hands folded, a brief smile flashed towards the woman. “I’m sorry for prying” Matt responds, leaving the chair and heading for the exit, the only thing stopping him from leaving being a declaration from Darlene. “Wait!” the woman calls out, her words carrying both a want for him to stay and a disdain for the dialogue’s continuation, “come back.” Doing as asked, Matt returns to the chair, Darlene swallowing the remaining food in her mouth before returning the container to the mini-fridge beside her desk. “My sister is a doctor and she keeps her office partially open for me whenever I need a checkup” Darlene explains, turning her chair towards the man on the other side of her desk as she continues, “I was going in for a follow up.” Squinting, Matt looks on at the woman with confusion. “Why did you need a follow-up? What was wrong the first time?” Matt asks, the woman’s face refusing to change on principle, not willing to hold back information that’s asked for, always determined to remain as open of a book as she can manage to be. “They found a lump on my breast and they thought could have been cancerous” Darlene replies, her eyes aimlessly gazing around the room, “I’m just waiting on the results.” “Wait, wait… You could have cancer?” Matt replies, a shrug being the only physical response the woman can comfortably give. “You could have cancer, too… It’s just a matter of whether or not they find any indication” Darlene replies, “the only difference between you and I is that they found an indication with me. That’s all.” Strong and massively stubborn, Darlene continues to prop up her facade, a gesture which appears harder to see through than it does in most others, but still partially fragmented to Matt’s view. “You’re scared” Matt replies, Darlene’s eyes reading him up and down, impressed at his conclusion. “You’re damn right I’m scared” Darlene replies, slumped back in her chair with her arms leant over the armrests, “but I’m not gonna run off and cry about it… There’s nothing I can do but hope.” Head hung, Darlene cracks a smile, playfully picking on the man. “You starting to care about my well-being, Matthew?” Darlene asks, the man looking up, a slightly visible amusement on his face. “I do, Darlenety” Matt replies, the woman’s head pulling further back in her chair than she would have thought possible. “That’s not my full name” Darlene replies, Matt picking himself up from the chair as he responds, “I know.” Returning to the door, Matt intends to leave before stopping in the doorway, turning back to call for Darlene once more. “Let me know if you need anything from me” Matt replies, a subtle nod coming from the woman across the room. “I need you to get back to work, Matthew” Darlene replies, an agreement coming in the form of Matt’s closing of the door behind him. | Feet propped up on a wooden chair, Danny feels his knees jerk to the direction of a hefty hand, Tyrell shoving his feet to the floor before taking a seat next to him, his own feet occupying the spot. “How’ve you been, D?” Tyrell asks, a depressed-looking Danny slumped in the couch responding with an unamused wave of his hand. “Same old shit, different fucking day my friend” Danny replies, his head turning towards the newly-returned man, “how was Cuba?” “It was a good place to avoid capture” Tyrell replies, handing his fellow table member a cold beer, “the grocery stores depressed me the fuck out, though.” Lifting his bottle into the air, Danny takes agreement with the statement before taking a sip. “I see you own a strip club now” Tyrell explains, looking around the establishment, “now is the part where I ask how the fuck that happened.” “I slept with a real estate agent” Danny replies, earning a curious look from the man, who tilts his head to the side and looks at him awkwardly, “she wasn’t very keen on deals having happy endings.” With a chuckle, Tyrell downs a good portion of his drink, pulling one hand over the back of his head, eyes taken by the sight of a half-naked woman dancing a good twenty feet away from them. “How’d it go?” Tyrell asks, watching Danny curiously glance off to the side at him, “after your folks died?” Amused, Danny raises the bottle to his lips, not a word leaving his mouth until he’s down the entire bottle. “Almost got sloppy on that heist you’ve probably heard so much about by now” Danny replies, tossing his bottle to a random spot on the floor, “but it’s pretty much been a crapshoot since then… Tensions on both sides, each pulling me in a direction my body can’t handle.” Pushing his head against the back of the couch, Tyrell brushes off an offer from one of the women. “Fuck off, pretty mama… Come back in a bit” Tyrell exclaims, waving the woman off as he keeps his attention on Danny. “You mean that literally or figuratively?” Tyrell asks, watching Danny pull his shirt up, revealing the scar from surgery he’d had done following the job. “I mean that both ways” Danny replies, dropping his shirt, “I don’t got a clue about what comes next.” “Speaking of which, I’ve heard through the grapevine that Matt’s planning on going back” Tyrell replies, an amused smile coming over Danny’s face. “Of course that’d be his fucking plan” Danny mutters to himself, both hands pulling behind his head, acting as a pillow, “he blew up a tanker carrying half a metric shit-load of powder, why the fuck wouldn’t he go back for the rest?” Leaning back in his seat, Tyrell inquires about the wound Danny had sustained, looking for clarification. “Well, we got aboard the ship the day after it docked, unloaded all that we could and were supposed to dive off the edge and into the water...” Danny replies, watching Tyrell silently ask for more, “...I missed the water.” A grimace peering through his teeth as they clench, Tyrell looks back at Danny, a sudden intrigue coming over him. “Was it Matt?” Tyrell asks, watching Danny glance back at him, the wounded veteran showing his physical exhaustion. “He saw me floating there in the water… He said I was face down, but I was out like a light” Danny replies, looking off into space as he continues, “so he jumped back into the water and pulled me to the boat before the bombs went off.” Wide-eyed, Tyrell sinks back into his seat, staring off at the depths of the building, lifting his bottle back to his lips. “This crew is so strong, even the head of the table says ‘no brother left behind’” Tyrell exclaims, shaking his head in disbelief, “tickle me fuckin’ pink.” Staring off at the strobe lights, Danny mutters to himself beneath his breath, words kept from catching Tyrell’s ears. “Yup” Danny whispers to himself, “no brother left behind.” | “Why did you get into psychology?” Brook asks, leant against the wall as Matt remains sat at his desk, the man taking genuine interest in her question. “I like helping people that exist in dark places” Matt replies, choosing his words very carefully, “it’s really fulfilling to help them find something brighter to hold onto.” “Have you ever seen what those dark places look like?” Brook asks, watching the smile spread across the man’s face. “Yes, I have” Matt replies, Brook’s posture changing, her interest in the man’s experience visually obvious. “What was it like for you?” Brook asks, Matt’s expression beginning to change with the reflection of his past, his refusal to mince words with his past experiences proving to be something Brook holds respect for him because of. “My parents were users… There wasn’t a day that went by where they didn’t have someone coming over to the house to exchange money for their fix” Matt explains, “that dark place was a very lonely experience.” Head bowing, Brook asks another question, perhaps taking more intrigue in his answers to this one than the one she had just asked. “How did you get out?” Brook wonders aloud, watching Matt’s nose flare with amusement, “how did you get out of that place?” “That’s a good question… I didn’t” Matt replies, watching Brook’s expression change into one of confusion, “in a way, I sort of turned that dark place into something brighter.” “By figuring out that you wanted to help others?” Brook asks, Matt’s reflection dying down upon the rising of that question, his expression shifting into one of uncertainty. “Yeah, something like that” Matt replies, attempting to ask a further question until his attention is taken by a knock at the door. “Enter!” Matt calls out, watching Darlene peer her head through the opening, the woman offering a quick apology for interfering with their session. “Is there any chance you can give me a ride after work?” Darlene asks, Matt hiding an oncoming smile well, however, he is unable to keep his face from lighting up with satisfaction. “Of course” Matt replies, watching Darlene nod towards him before shutting the door behind herself, Brook cutting the momentary silence between them to point out her findings. “You like her, don’t you?” Brook asks, catching Matt off guard, the man not having expected such a question to be asked. “She’s a kind person that I didn’t give enough credit to at first” Matt replies, noticing the unconvinced look on Brook’s face. “I meant in the romantic way” Brook replies, the surprise on Matt’s face intriguing her, the awkward situation being laughed off by the man, who refuses such a notion. “I’m gay, there’s no interest in that way” Matt replies, Brook’s face still stiffened, as unconvinced now as she was just prior, “but as a person, she’s a lot more likeable than I had originally thought she would be.” Rubbing his hands together as he looks through different folders upon his desk, Matt calls out to the young girl beside his desk, “where did we leave off?” | “Hey, Levi!” Danny calls out, returning to the rental store he had just recently been kicked out of days prior, keeping his distance by meeting with his fellow tablemate off of the premises. “Look, Danny… I’ve already told you… I ain’t the mole!” Levi shouts back, Danny cutting the man short by putting his arm around his neck, leading him away from his car and further down the road. “I’m not here accusing you again, I’m merely here with an offer” Danny replies, watching the perplexity spread across the man’s face in real time. “I find your offers to be rather bipolar, Danny” Levi replies, “it’s either something really, really good… Or it’s something really, really bad.” Laughing off the man’s gesture, Danny removes his sunglasses and carries them in the same hand draped over Levi’s neck, assuring the man that this one will be something worthy of consideration. “Alright, let me hear it” Levi replies, Danny patting the man on the side of the face as he continues walking, appearing as casually arrogant as he can muster. Ducking into an alleyway, Danny checks each direction he walks down before tapping his knuckle against the rear-entry of a burger shop, waiting patiently for a man inside to answer. “Is this Levi?” Danny is asked by the unnamed doorkeeper, only responding with a silent wink. Moving to the side, the man allows Danny and Levi entry, the fumes of chemicals pressing together blasting them in the face the moment they walk inside. “What the fuck is that smell!?” Levi calls out, “are you fuckers making a nuclear reactor or something!?” Handing the man a pair of goggles, Danny pulls a pair of his own over his eyes, departing from Levi and standing in front of a massive set of stations, all of which swarming with workers. “Welcome to where the magic happens, rental boy!” Danny calls out, arms extended in grandeur, turning his body towards the stations to see the room filling with smoke, a sight he takes joy in. “This is one of the many places the table crafts it’s goods” Danny explains, talking slightly louder than usual, battling for audible supremacy with a rather loud pressing machine. “In order for these guys to make products, they need the ingredients we supply them with” Danny explains, “now, they’re well off for the next few months… But at some point, they’re going to need more to work with.” Having lost track of where the conversation is supposed to be heading, Levi asks for clarification from the man responsible for leading him there. “How does any of this work into an offer for me?” Levi asks, Danny’s teeth appearing from behind his lips, the menacing grin appearing as so when accompanied with the massive set of goggles over his face. “Every so often, the table makes a big push to get a whole fuckload of these ‘ingredients’ all at once” Danny explains, approaching Levi and placing his hands upon each of his shoulders, “these runs are done with very small crews and pay very good money.” Nodding, Levi concludes Danny’s offer on his behalf, attempting to beat him to the punch. “So you’re offering me a place in the next crew?” Levi asks, a silent nod preceding Danny’s further explanation. “I don’t understand the need you have to work at that rental place, and I don’t really need to” Danny explains, glancing back at the tables of stations behind him for a kick of pleasure, “but what it comes down to is this… If you accept my offer, you and your family will be set for life.” Pondering over his decision, Levi looks towards the ground until ordered to look back at Danny, the man doing what he can to convince the rental worker. “Your job as a father and as a husband is to give them the best life possible… All at whatever cost” Danny explains, taking another look back at the stations set up behind him, “if working three or four days out of the year is that cost… It’s a pretty fucking good cost.” Considering his options, Levi keeps his eyes glued to Danny, the right hand man of the table asking for the final verdict. “What’s it going to be, Levi?” Danny asks, allowing one hand to fall to his side, fingers crossed on the lowered hand as the opposite rests upon Levi’s shoulder. | “You ready to go?” Matt calls out, Darlene throwing her jacket over her shoulders as she reaches for her bag. Silently leaving her office, Darlene walks beside Matt as they head for the exit, a conversation remaining unstarted until they leave the building, Matt speaking the first word. “Did your car break down or something?” Matt asks, the woman surprisingly replying otherwise. “My car’s perfectly fine” Darlene responds, earning a look of bewilderment from Matt. “Why did you need a ride?” Matt asks, Darlene looking back at him with widened eyes, challenging his stance from earlier in the day. “Because my appointment is to get the test results” Darlene replies, stopping at the bottom of the stairs upon reaching the final step, “I don’t want to hear them alone.” With a nod, Matt silently continues to walk, only for his progress to be halted upon Darlene calling out his name. “Who was that guy you were talking to here the other night?” Darlene asks, watching Matt stammer over his words. “Oh, that guy? His name was Stucky… I mean, Chris… People just call him Stucky apparently” Matt replies, his answer not being a lie, though, it does feel so regardless. “And what did this ‘Stucky’ want, exactly?” Darlene asks, nothing more than a shrug coming from the man. “He’s an addict… I couldn’t make heads or tails of half of what he was saying” Matt replies, watching Darlene nod as she catches up with him. “There’s a group session that the clinic is putting on for children of addicts tomorrow night” Darlene explains, raising information Matt was already privy to once more, “you should go.” “Yeah, okay” Matt says sarcastically, finally reaching his car, the lack of enthusiasm in his voice challenged by Darlene. “I’m serious, Matt” Darlene calls back, opening her door as Matt’s fingers rest upon the handle, “you should go” the woman calls back as she takes her seat. Looking off into the distance, Matt rolls his eyes and shakes his head, intending to enter the vehicle before noticing something that strikes worry in him. Wrapping his fingers around his knuckles, Matt yanks off his golden ring, quickly tucking it back into his pocket as he sinks into his seat, slamming the door shut behind himself. “You good there, tiger?” Darlene asks, curious as to the violent nature of his entry, a question that prompts Matt to cool himself off. “Just… I just pulled too hard” Matt replies, laughing off the situation as he turns the key in the ignition. Backing out of his spot, Matt exits the parking lot and drives down the street, passing a row of cars parked along the sidewalk, one of which remaining occupied. Reaching for her notepad, Candy jots down the name of the building, model of car, and a description of the second passenger she saw Matt with. Pleased with her findings, Candy turns on her headlights and leaves her spot, driving in the opposite direction of the man she’s now grown to be very enamored with. == Kings of Cambridge == Rain coming down harder than it has all day, Matt emerges from his vehicle, slamming his door shut with eyes firmly cemented upon the hidden entry. Not bothering to hold an umbrella over his head, Matt lets the rain fall from his head as he reaches outwards, his hand placed upon a door handle disguised as a tipped over metal pipe, entering a room bathed in harsh light, the door slamming shut behind him.
“Why the fuck did Stucky just show up at the clinic, Danny!?” Matt shouts, a confused man looking towards Matt in confusion, his eyes squinting as the question is uttered. “Huh?” Danny replies, the short reaction doing nothing to quell Matt’s anger, his soaked leather shoe pressing against a cheap wooden table before shoving it back, the legs scraping against the floor towards the other side of the room. “You heard me, Danny” Matt replies, squatting down in front of his friend, hands folded as he repeats himself slowly, “why did Gilcrest’s new kid just show up at the clinic threatening to start shit all over again?” Lips parting, Danny shakes his head as his hands are held up in surrender, refusing to pull punches with the man opposite him. “I have no idea, Matt” Danny replies, watching his friend’s head sink, “I haven’t heard anything from Gilcrest’s guys since the ship job.” Huffing, Matt simmers, Danny looking on, not wanting to say anything stupid, but desperately wishing for words of reassurance to be jogged to mind. “I have no idea why Gillcrest would be coming after us” Danny explains, his eyes looking around the room, mirroring his thoughts, bouncing from one side to the other, “I have no idea how any of them would even know who you are.” A wave of anger rushing over him, Matt grabs a plastic cup stood upon the floor into his hands, quickly chucking it at the wall, its pieces flying throughout the room as it obliterates upon contact. “I am not going to let a spineless pig’s druggie son expose everything I’ve worked on for the last few years because ‘you don’t know how he found out’, Danny” Matt replies, his frame now towering over Danny, the man waiting for Matt to conclude, “we’ve come too far to fall now.” Shaking his head, Danny visually disapproves of the notion, pushing himself out of his seat to equal his frame with that of the other man, his voice softening as he speaks. “We’re too big to fail now… This isn’t like it was when we first started out” Danny replies, watching Matt walk away from him, pressing his hands against the opposite wall with his head hung. “No one is too big to fail, Danny” Matt replies, his teeth clenched, head racing with a million different thoughts, the stress noticeable on his face until it disappears in an instant. “All it takes for a tower to fall is one brick in the wrong place coming loose” Matt explains, taking in a deep breath as he stares towards the sky, his body turning towards Danny before he concludes his thought, “we’re responsible for overseeing infrastructure on this tower twenty-four seven.” “I know, boss” Danny replies, his statement of assurance being questioned by Matt. “Do you, Danny?” Matt asks, his back pressing against the wall as he folds his arms, expression souring, “because until a minute ago, you thought we were invincible.” Standing by his statement, Danny doubles down, staring Matt in the eyes and speaking clearly. “Of course we’re invincible” Danny replies, a smile appearing through the corner of his mouth, “no one’s better with infrastructure than us.” Pleased with the certainty in the man’s response, Matt’s fleeting moment of accomplishment sours as he falls back to earth. “We have been thus far… But it seems like a crack’s formed somewhere in the place” Matt replies, his eyes directed towards the floor, arms still folded as he removes himself from the wall. “I need you to figure out where that crack in our tower is, Danny” Matt explains, slowly approaching his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder, “then I need you to plug it.” With a nod, Danny silently walks away, returning to the dark interior of the club, leaving Matt behind, the stuffy room leaving very little to find comfort in. Anger coming over once more, this time with nothing to inspire him to keep his composure. Turning around, Matt takes the cheap table into his hands and lifts his knee into the air, pressing his kneecap through the center and shattering the piece of furniture in two, splintered wood falling upon the floor to the sound of a yell. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “I never hide it, it just doesn’t come up a lot” Brook replies, one arm leant against a book case, Matt pacing on the opposite side of the room, walking from one side to the other, then back to his original place before repeating the process. “I’m not much of a religious person… I’ve got my beliefs of what’s moral and immoral, but that’s about it” Matt explains, stopping in the middle of the room with his head turned towards the girl, “but I know Satanism doesn’t go over well with the parents.” Her breathy laughter noticeable, Brook stares off towards the window as the conversation changes, Matt redirecting the discourse to a more deep-rooted aspect of the conversation. “What about your parents?” Matt asks, Brook’s pleased expression gradually shifting as the relationship is called into question, “do you think they care about you enough to not kick you out if you were to tell them?” Shaking her head, Brook glides her finger through her hair, making sure to pull the loose strands behind her ears. “My mom wouldn’t like it, but my dad wouldn’t care that much” Brook replies, Matt patiently hearing the girl out before interjecting. “I’ve explained what satanism actually is, and they kind of get it, but they also kind of don’t” Brook explains, pulling her head back against the wall as she stares out at the sun-soaked city in the distance. “But they wouldn’t kick me out if they found out I wasn’t on the same line as them religiously” Brook replies, pausing for a moment, thinking to herself before blurting out, “at least dad wouldn’t.” With a nod, Matt squints his eyes, folding his hands behind his back as he leans against the wall, directly opposite Brook. “Tell me more about your dad” Matt replies, watching Brook’s eyes peer into the corner of her eyelids towards him, “what’s he like?” “He’s fine” Brook replies without issue, stopping her response there, much to Matt’s intrigue. “He’s… fine?” Matt replies, head leaning towards his shoulder, the girl already noticing his lack of satisfaction with her answer. “What makes him… fine?” Matt asks, stepping away from the wall, pulling the new chair from behind his desk and taking a seat in it, eyes kept steadily on the young woman. “He’s not as overbearing as my mother” Brook replies, watching Matt’s large frame lean back in his seat, arms draped over each armrest, waiting for her to finish her response. “My mother’s ashamed of me… So I don’t think she’d really be surprised at anything I’d have to say anymore” Brook responds, pushing her head to the side momentarily, forcing the strands of hair falling over her face away, “my dad isn’t as… well… my dad isn’t my mom.” Nodding, Matt puckers his lips as he leans forward, hands folded atop his table as his chin presses against the knuckles on his thumb. “So your mom is overbearing and your dad is your dad” Matt recaps, a smile coming over his face as his eyes deviate away from the girl, only returning when he’s ready to resume his line of dialogue, “and from that answer, you’d think I was asking about your mom.” With a laugh, Matt notices the change in the young woman’s demeanor, a more reserved side being shown from the typically sturdy youth. “Everything okay?” Matt asks, the posture of the young woman changing upon the verbalization of the question, her brave face returning as if it never left. “Yeah, I’m totally fine” Brook replies, tucking her hands into her pockets as her eyes flutter from one side of the room to the other, weighing her thoughts. | His boots tapping upon the linoleum floors, Danny walks into a car rental facility as if he owned the place, eyes set on the figures at the front counter. “Hey, Levi!” Danny shouts, removing one hand from his pocket, lifting it into the air with his fingers spread, greeting the uniformed man. “I’m sorry, sweetheart… Can you give us a second?” Danny asks a random civilian, moving the woman out of the way without her response, his question having been more of a demand. “Danny, I’m on the clock” Levi replies, the green shirt over his dark skin making him stand out amongst a majority-white workforce, his conversation only helping add to such status. “I don’t care, we got issues at the top” Danny replies, watching Levi’s expression shift, confliction coming over his face like he’d just seen the after effects of war. “The king’s got eyes on him?” Levi replies, voice lowered to a hush, such a tone mimicked in that of Danny’s. “No, the king doesn’t have eyes on him” Danny replies, walking around the counter without approval, taking Levi’s shirt into the palm of his hand, “the king’s got eyes out on all of us.” Noticing this picture, the manager removes himself from his desk, calling out to the sweatshirt-covered man leading his employee into the backrooms. “Hey, you can’t be back here!” the manager shouts, watching the middle finger lift towards him courtesy of Danny’s right hand. “You don’t think it was me, do you?” Levi asks, pushed into a dark room with only one poorly-lit lightbulb above, Danny slamming the door shut behind them. “I don’t know who it is, I’m looking in every direction I can” Danny replies, Levi’s composure restoring itself, his intentions fully set on clearing his own name. “I’ve got a wife and three kids, Dan… The king pays me too much to keep my mouth shut!” Levi replies, his head shaking as he explains himself. “I don’t know enough about how your brain works to know whether or not you’re telling me the truth” Danny replies, hands placed on his hips. “What do you mean ‘the truth’?” Levi asks, his arms thrown to each side of his body, “I’ve invited you to every single one of their birthday parties!” “Not the fucking the family, you nimrod! The loyalty!” Danny shouts, rolling his eyes as he reminds Levi of his cover. “You work a rental job when you’re paid six figures just to keep up appearances!” Danny furthers, “it may be dedication to the cover, but it isn’t exactly necessary. I don’t know what you do or don’t want to do!” “Well you can bet every buck that you’ve got that I don’t want my family getting put in no crosshairs, Dan!” Levi shouts, watching Danny’s shoulders drop, slight defeat coming over him. “What if they already were and this was your only way out?” Danny asks, watching Levi’s attitude shift, no offense or defense in his demeanor, only an impossible question raised to him. “Then I’d do what I had to” Levi replies, his voice confident, no lack of certainty in his tone upon answering. “The cops are going to be here any minute!” the manager shouts as he opens the door, Danny’s back still turned towards him as he’s given his ultimatum. “Leave right now or you’ll be taken away in handcuffs!” the manager shouts, the timer having run out on his interrogation. Without a word, Danny backs away, walking through the down and leaving the way he came in, Levi watching him walk off from afar, every step taken being caught by the family man’s eye. | “Packing it up for the night?” Darlene is asked, the voice calling for her originating from the doorway of her office. “Good evening, Perry” Darlene says with a cold shoulder, the formerly employed man rolling his eyes at the lack of enthusiasm in his response, “how’s the new job suiting you?” With a sigh, Perry lowers his hand from the doorframe and tucks his knuckles into his pockets, watching the woman prepare her bags to leave as he continues the conversation. “They value me greatly there and it feels accomplishing” Perry replies, Darlene’s demeanor not changed one bit, her head nodding as she returns a simple reply. “That sounds great, Perry” the woman calls back zipping up her bag and tossing it over her shoulder on her way back towards the door. Flicking off the light switch, Darlene emerges through the entrance, walking past the man without acknowledging him, a gesture which reads Perry the stance she has on him without confusion. “Darlene, everyone moves on in their career” Perry calls out, putting his second plan into action upon the original, more friendly introduction’s failing. “They certainly do, and I wish you nothing but the best in yours” Darlene replies, continuing to keep her eyes fixated on the exit ahead of her. “Why are you taking this so personally?” Perry asks, continuing to walk beside the woman, each step taking them closer to the exit, that only destination that matters in Darlene’s eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Perry… I just wish to go home for the night” Darlene replies, still not looking towards the man beside her. Suddenly, the woman begins to walk alone, Perry having pulled back, stood in the middle of the hallway as the woman continues walking. “You’re no longer employed in this office, you should probably leave the building before someone calls the police” Darlene quips, her hand pressing against the doorknob, allowing her to be embraced by the crisp, nighttime air. “Why are you such an entitled ass?” Perry shouts, the woman having already left the building, his feet still stood where they stopped as the door slowly begins to slide shut. Each new inch bringing a further look of anticipation, Perry keeps his eye on the moonlit night as the crack that it peers through grows smaller and smaller, shrinking with each new distance the door closes. “Come on” Perry whispers to himself, the crack continuing to shorten until an umbrella pierces the open space, keeping the door from shutting completely as a hand pushes the metal frame open. “Entitled? Is that the one word you’re able to shrink me down to? Entitled?” Darlene quips, a confident Perry standing by his statement. “You consider yourself accomplished, as you rightfully should, for having gotten this far in your career” Perry explains, taking one step forward with his finger raised towards the woman’s face, “but there’s a respect you think you’re owed that you just fall flat on deserving.” Lips puckered, Darlene only opens her mouth to address the man’s stance, speaking slowly to ensure the man heeds to her warning. “Get your finger out of my face and keep it away for the rest of your life, or else, I will cut it off and toss it into the fast food joint’s chili bowl down the street” Darlene says, Perry’s confidence falling as quickly as his hand does. “I’ve done more than anyone I’ve ever met with a lot less than they had” Darlene explains, her own finger now lifting towards Perry’s face, his partial confidence being gently tucked into the grave. “I’ve fought more, pushed through more, and outright been more than you ever would… And that includes whatever goals you have your heart set on accomplishing, it will still be nothing in comparison” Darlene replies, Perry’s head pulled back, “so watch where you walk before you start stumbling.” Nostrils flaring, Darlene turns around, returning the umbrella to her bag before pushing the door in, returning to the night as the door slowly shuts, not a peep coming from the man inside the second time around. | “You wanted to see me?” a young voice calls out from afar, prompting Danny and his small group of bodyguards to raise their attention. “Stay right there” Danny calls out, watching Stucky stop when told, an equally small group of protection stopping behind him as Danny pulls a bag from inside a small duster plane. Walking into the center of the room, Danny tosses the duffle bag of cash into the middle of the old hanger they meet within, his hand aimed towards it. “There’s half a million bucks in that bag, kid… Take it and stay the fuck away from the Kings” Danny exclaims, watching Stucky slowly break away from his group, walking up to the bag. Unzipping the top, Stucky peers inside, a smile coming over his face, initially bringing ease over Danny until the younger man clarifies his expression. “You think I’m in this for money?” Stucky replies, glaring at Danny as he pulls the straps into his hands, tossing the cash back to its owner. His expression souring, Danny watches the bag topple across the ground until it falls to his feet, his head slowly lifting towards Stucky, a scowl draped across his face. “Didn’t your boy tell you what I wanted?” Stucky asks, Danny’s grimace keeping hold until being forced apart, his jaw forcing itself apart in order to speak. “He said you were a pain in the ass and needed to be dealt with” Danny replies, the hysterical response from Stucky standing out. “The way you phrase it makes it sound like he wants me dead!” Stucky shouts, hood halfway over his head, bags under his eyes from yet another drug-fueled sleepless night bathed in light. “Keep pushing his buttons and he just might” Danny responds, Stucky continuing to laugh as every other man in the room remains silent and stubbornly present in the moment, “that is if he hasn’t already.” Hunched over in laughter, Stucky pushes himself back to his feet, allowing one arm to fall to his side as the other breaks through the air, pointing a finger in Danny’s direction. “You’re a funny guy” Stucky exclaims, an unamused smile coming from the face of Matt’s right hand man. With a shrug, Stucky sniffles a few times before continuing the conversation, correcting Danny’s assumption upon the first chance he gets. “I told your boy the same thing I’m gonna tell you right now” Stucky replies, hands tucked away in his back pockets, shoulders protruding as he leans ever so slightly forward. “It’s not over, but it can be” Stucky calls out, watching Danny’s head lift as the words leave his mouth, already having assumed the worst in Stucky’s intentions. “My folks have completely lost it… There’s no empire for them to run” Stucky explains, a smile breaking through his lips, “it’s my turn to… take my inheritance.” Sucking on his teeth, Danny tucks his hands in his own back pockets, head turned towards a portion of his group. “You want us to kill your parents… That’s what I’m taking away from this conversation” Danny replies, continuing to make his point as Stucky fails to hold his grin back, “you’re willing to set yourself up to fight for control of the trade you can’t even keep your own hands off of? What gives you the idea that any of your goons will take that graciously?” Doing a little dance, Stucky turns his back towards Danny, giving the nod towards one of his men in the back of the hanger, an unnamed man being dragged into the middle of the hanger by his ankles, hands and feet bound by rope. “This is my pop’s handler” Stucky exclaims, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants, Danny and his crew standing back in anticipation for what comes next. “This man changed my diapers when I was a baby... Raised me when my parents never would, or at least, never could” Stucky explains, kneeling before the gagged man, eyes of desperation staring back at the entitled druggie with fleeting hope. “This man was my provider when my father couldn’t provide for himself… My guidance when my mother lost her way” Stucky explains, pressing his forehead against the restrained man beside him with a wide smile. “He taught me everything I know, and he never gave up on me” Stucky explains, closing his eyes as the man beside him begins to squirm, failing to escape. “I asked him ‘if it came down to me or my father, whose side would you choose’?” Stucky explains, pleading groans coming from the near-elderly man as Danny’s crew continues to watch, “he said, ‘my loyalty lies with the man that has stayed loyal to me.” Peeling his eyelids apart, Stucky looks back at Danny, pulling his head away from the man beneath him as he stands to his feet, the smile across his face remaining through every moment a word doesn’t leave his mouth. Without a word, Stucky laughs at the man’s desperate pleas to help, not a singular coherent word leaving the rag between his teeth, the cries just as understandable regardless. Without hesitation, Stucky takes the gun and places it against the elderly man’s head, firing once at point-blank range, the suffering pleas ending in a mere moment, Stucky’s father-figure dropping lifelessly to the ground. “He wasn’t willing to abide by me… So he must be disposed of” Stucky explains, lifting the gun to his lips and blowing on the barrel, the weapon returning to his waistband immediately thereafter, “anyone that doesn’t abide by me will fall at my hand.” With a nod, Danny reaches down for the money-filled duffle bag and tosses it back into the cropduster, his attention being left upon Stucky. “Let’s say we do this… We get the job done and all goes according to plan… Exactly as you’d wish for it to be” Danny explains, cutting the distance between the two men in half, “we’d be holding up our end of the bargain… What would your end look like?” An uncomfortable nod resonating from the psychopathic head-figure ahead of him, Danny watches Stucky close his end of the space between them, coming within inches of his person as Stucky pleas his half. “There may be a lot that you folks have accomplished, but there’s still that one big pot of gold you’re looking for at the end of the rainbow” Stucky replies, both hands folded behind his back as his face comes within inches of Danny’s, “I guess that makes me your leprechaun!” Expression shifting, Danny squints at the younger man in confusion, only one word leaving his lips, “Cambridge?” With another sadistic laugh, Stucky’s drug-fueled words are slurred as he runs through both sides of the deal, his ramblings just barely coherent enough to pick up on. “I’ve heard of these kings fighting for thrones that don’t belong to them for years… I never understood it until now” Stucky explains, his voice lowering to a whisper, “this can be your kingdom.” “So, we give you the right to inherit your kingdom… And you deliver us Cambridge? Full and undivided… Straight up… all of Cambridge?” Danny asks, watching Stucky’s hands uncouple, both hands thrown out by his sides as his grin returns. “I’m in a rather giving mood right now, if I do say so myself!” Stucky replies, patting both sides of Danny’s chest as he steps away, walking backwards to return to his group. “Go ahead and let the big guy know to contact me when he’s made up his mind!” Stucky shouts, the first to exit the barn, his crew quick to follow his lead, leaving the table behind. | “You look like shit” Candy calls out to a customer sat at the bar, street clothes draped over her frame as she approaches the counter. “Thanks, that’s a wonderful introduction” the man replies, lifting a glass to his lips as Candy takes a seat beside him. “You’re drinking at a club, you didn’t come here for pleasantries, you came here for tits” Candy remarks, a chuckle emanating from the man mid-sip. “If only you knew how wrong you were” the man replies, a nod coming from the woman’s head, her hand extending to graciously accept her drink. “I’m Candy” the woman exclaims, holding her hand out towards the man for a handshake, a gesture which the gentleman refuses to return, keeping one hand tucked beneath his arm, the other with its fingers wrapped around his glass. “Matt” the man replies, finally meeting the woman Danny’s been hung up over in recent days. “So what brings you down here, Matt?” Candy asks, looking at the topless women just a few feet over her shoulder. “I’m in for business reasons” Mat replies, eyes scanning the assortment of liquor propped up on the shelves just ahead, “...and drinking reasons.” “I see” the woman replies, taking notice of the man’s appearance, embracing the oddities within it. “Not one for conversation?” Candy asks, watching the man glare at her without emotion, a cold look appearing on his face, not out of hatred or appreciation, but out of nothing at all. “I don’t speak with the work for reasons of my own” Matt replies, keeping the facade up as fully as he can muster, “it’s nothing about you… just a standard I give myself.” “A standard?” Candy replies, taking disrespect in the man’s phrasing, “so you’ve got standards that put you on a place higher than me?” Turning towards the woman with the glass in his hand, Matt attempts to speak before quieting himself down, considering his potential responses before changing his original answer. “Yes, I do” Matt replies, taking the woman’s disrespect and turning it into something real, downing the rest of his drink and ending the conversation. “Well, have fun up there” Candy replies, stepping out of her seat as Matt slides a few hundred dollar bills across the counter, her eyes having been taken by the man’s hand. “I will, thank you so much” Matt replies, his fingers extended without him realizing, a golden ring on his thumb with a lion’s head in the center of a crown illuminated in the spotlight. Her lips slightly parted, Candy watches Matt grab at his jacket before walking away without a fuss. Out of the corner of his eye, the bartender gives Candy a look, quietly telling her to go about her business without a question. At a loss for words, Candy keeps her cool, putting up a pretty face and tossing her bag over her shoulder, nodding to the bartender before approaching the exit, having become privy to information she’s not sure she should have. == Kings of Cambridge == Removing his rain-soaked flat cap, Matt enters the Kings of Cambridge offices with a briefcase and umbrella in hand, a small, stone-floored area covered in water between the lobby and front doors. Clearing his throat, Matt removes his wet jacket and carries his belongings with him, turning the corner to approach the front counter. “Hello?” the woman stationed at the front desk asks, a counter with a half-closed window between herself and the clinic’s newest therapist.
“Greetings, my name is Matt Tory… I’m the new therapist” the man replies, prompting the woman to stand away from behind her desk, a piece of paper carried in her hand. “This is the door code” the woman replies, the nameplate on her desk reading ‘Angela Steiner’, affording Matt the most familiarity he is going to receive. “Have a wonderful first day!” the woman replies with glee, returning to her desk without another word, leaving Matt to figure things out himself. With a chuckle, Matt nods to himself and walks towards the door at the back of the room, a large area of offices and other various rooms kept locked away behind it. In the corner of his eye, Matt locates an older teenager in the corner of the waiting room, her hair as soaked as her clothes are, arms folded as her eyes stare off at a random corner of the room. Glancing back towards the window, Matt considers the time for the moment before taking the time out of his day to approach the woman, not yet certain of how to begin a conversation. “These kind of things come in handy at times like these” Matt proclaims, his umbrella being the center of the conversation, the man pointing to the woman’s clear exposure to the world’s elements. “I’ll keep that in mind” the young woman replies, her voice soft and demeanor unfriendly, “thanks.” With a nod, Matt begins to consider walking away, his eyes having different plans of their own in the moment, latching onto a ring on the woman’s finger. “That’s a nice piece of jewelry” the man explains, pointing to a wedding ring wrapped around her third finger, “just how old are you?” Her arms tightening their grip upon each other, the woman stares at Matt, her eyes not leaving the man until she answers his question. “Twenty five” the woman replies, a clear lie being noticed the moment the number leaves her lips, Matt playing along with the response anyway. “I’m glad you’re twenty five… Getting married isn’t exactly the best idea for the young at heart” Matt replies, taking the seat opposite the girl, his briefcase and other belongings being left to the floor. “I’m really glad I’m not young at heart then” the young woman replies, watching Matt’s smile precede a nod. “But you’re still pretty young, right?” Matt replies, the woman not offering an answer, instead opting to stare at the man ahead of her, feeling herself being judged by the man she’d only just encountered. “I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger, but I can’t say marriage was one of them” Matt replies, folding his hands upon his rain-soaked lap. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” the girl replies, watching Matt’s head slowly shake from one side to another. “You don’t need to feel anything for me, that’s not the point” Matt replies, his eyes directed towards the floor, “but the people that precede us always come with lessons they’ve learned… Their job isn’t to let the next generation make the same mistakes, it’s to use their experiences accordingly to make sure the younger generation never even needs to know their troubles exist.” “Tell that to the boomers” the girl replies, watching the smile come over Matt’s face, his laughter hidden well beneath his breath. “I can tell that to any generation… They all failed in their responsibilities to their successors” Matt explains, the girl interested in the teaching’s she’s taking part in, “the generation that birthed you failed their responsibilities then, as will your generation fail the ones that are birthed from them… It’s inevitable.” “Why?” the girl replies, curious as to how such a perspective can be taken, “I find it hard to believe the purpose of one generation is something that’s impossible.” Nodding to himself, Matt tells the woman that the world makes anything that comes perfectly impossible. “Mistakes will happen… Those that are imperfect, much like us humans, are bound to be imperfect in nature” Matt replies, “nothing is made perfect in the world, thus, nothing can live perfectly… Not even the world itself.” Eyes turning away from the man, the young girl looks out at the center garden of the complex, the entire lobby empty aside from herself and the man she occupies the room with. Assuming the conversation to be over, Matt leans down to retrieve his belongings, the young girl ahead of him suddenly speaking up, a question being directed to the man who’s shown to be very generous with his time. “When do our mistakes stop mattering?” the girl inquires, Matt having already left his chair, now looking down upon the girl with his belongings in hand, “when do we get to move on?” Parting his lips, Matt thinks twice and shuts his mouth for a moment, looking off at the garden in the middle of the clinic, a massive plot of flowers and other plants all in their final days as winter nears, the certainty of his answer as short-leashed as the remaining life in the budding saps just outside. “I think most people… Myself included… Are still trying to figure that one out” Matt replies, offering a half-smile to the girl before returning to the door at the back of the room. “Who are you?” the girl calls out, Matt turning back around after punching in the locked doors’ keycode. With a smile, Matt replies in kind. “I am ready for our session in just three quick minutes” Matt replies, squinting towards the young woman, “that is, if I’m right in assuming that you’re Brook Kessler?” “I… I am” the young girl replies, her head tilted back and eyes peeled, surprised by the response, “how did you know that?” Opening the door, Matt points out the tattoo and wedding ring on the woman’s finger as documented in her report. “Seventeen years old and from Salem, Massachusetts” Matt explains, nodding to himself as the woman leans slightly forward in her seat, watching the man walk through the doorway as he concludes, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = “How much do you know about me?” Brook replies, stood across the room from the already-seated Matt, his hands folded in his lap as he answers each question asked of him. “Whatever you told the other therapist in your intake last week” Matt replies, pulling open his drawer and removing a file of paperwork from within it, “and whatever you’ve gotten documented over the numerous other clinics you’ve been to in the seven years.” Her head tilted, Brook becomes overwhelmed with shame as if she were being bullied, Matt quickly noticing this and explaining his approach. “I’m not calling you out on anything per se, but I don’t know that my job here is to help dig through the clutter in your life with you” Matt explains, shrugging to himself as he considers the topics in the folder before him, “and there seems to be enough clutter to go around.” “Okay, therapy man… What’s your plan then?” Brook asks, feeling the need to grow stern with the man on the other side of the desk, feeling the need to defend herself by default. His hand leaving the surface of his desk, Matt points towards the seat in front of him, watching Brook attempt to sit down before directing her otherwise. “Pick the chair up” Matt replies, Brook looking at the man with confusion, ultimately giving into what he says, “pick it up and toss it.” Eyebrows lowered, Brook glances around the room for cameras, Matt assuring her of the genuinity in his directions. “You’ve got a hard exterior to get through and this is my first idea on how to soften it just enough to start chipping away” Matt explains, leaving his chair and taking the back into his own hands, “you’ve got plenty of reason to feel restrained and that’s not what’s going to be going on here… Take your chair and just toss it somewhere.” Unsure of the importance in the activity, Brook gives into what is requested of her, taking her seat a few inches from the ground and shoving it forward, watching it gently bounce onto its side. “Very good, but you’ll get the hang of it the longer we go on” Matt replies, lifting his rolling chair into the air, allowing Brook to stand off to the side before hurling it across the room, letting the seat skip across the carpet before coming to a stop at his door. With a smile, Brook nods to herself, Matt walking away from one side of his desk and pacing around the room, refusing to allow either figure to feel held to one place. “Walk around, venture wherever and only sit when you feel like you want to” Matt explains, every wall open to be walked beside, not a piece of decor obstructing either inhabitant’s path aside from the desk at the back of the room. “What do we talk about then?” Brook asks, Matt considering the possibilities before glancing at the ring, Brook having expected the line of dialogue to be one of the first things addressed. In a surprising twist, Matt takes the conversation elsewhere, the sudden weight upon Brook’s chest being lifted away in the blink of an eye. “Let’s talk about you” Matt responds, watching a more-comfortable Brook begin to increase the pace in her stroll, “who are you?” | “Water on the rocks, please” Danny calls out to the guy manning the bar, his arms tucked together as they fall upon the shiny counter. “Did you get what you wanted last night?” a feminine voice calls out from afar, Danny’s eyes drifting towards its direction until finding the woman from the prior night approaching his seat. “You again?” Danny quips, watching the woman take the open stool beside him, “you think I wanted Julio dead?” “You threw him to the literal wolves… What am I to suspect?” the woman replies, holding up two fingers, the signal for the bartender to make a second drink of Danny’s choice. “I did what I had to when I was called upon” Danny replies, graciously accepting the second glass slid across the countertop, lifting it to his lips as he finishes his point, “you should suspect that I was doing what was necessary.” Leaning forward, the woman presses her breasts against the clean countertop, her eyes drifting towards Danny, who takes notice of the gesture. “This is what ‘doing what’s necessary’ looks like” the woman replies, lifting herself up before placing her fingers together like a gun, pressing her thumb down to mimick firing a singular shot at Danny, “that’s what ‘murder by betrayal’ looks like.” Shaking his head, Danny mutters “you just don’t understand” into his glass, the second party beside him challenging him to explain. “If I’m so out of touch, break it down for me” the woman replies, her voice soft and non-confrontational, but the bitter-heavy bite in her words shine through in each letter, “show me just how different the two are.” Laying his glass upon the counter, Matt lifts one finger into the air, not pointing at anything in specific, instead, referring to the club as a whole. “I don’t have tits to press against a counter to get what I want… I have to make tough calls” Danny explains, holding a second finger into the air, this one on his opposite hand, “one choice keeps the club afloat, the other tears it down with ease… I chose to keep the place running.” Watching Danny take the glass back into his hand, the woman makes a conscientious effort to beat him to the punch, wrapping her fingers around the same glass and pulling it away from Danny’s tense fingers. Keeping her eyes locked onto Danny’s, the woman takes a swig from the man’s glass as he watches, silently taking the show of disrespect with honor. “What’s your name?” Danny asks, the woman quickly returning the cup to her lips and downing what remains. “Candy” the woman replies, watching the smile appear through the man’s chapped lips, laughter emerging from his mouth. “I meant your real name, dear” Danny replies, his hand in the perfect position for the woman to reply as wished. Shattering the cup over Danny’s hand, Candy watches the man pull his entire arm into his chest, confused at the show. “None of your business, dear” Candy replies, pushing her stool back and returning to the floor, an injured and bloody Danny sitting back, watching the woman vanish into the crowd, at a loss for words. | “I hear the first meeting went well” Darlene exclaims just as Matt enters her office, the tidy room appearing very polarized in comparison to Matt’s own. “I’m not sure how you would know, but I’m glad to hear that nonetheless” Matt replies, taking the seat just in front of Darlene’s desk, his eyes falling upon the woman as she finishes up writing a report. “Angela said Brook was smiling after the appointment” Darlene replies, removing her eyes from the paper, “Brook never smiles.” “I charm the pants off of everyone I meet” Matt says with a smile, Darlene only rolling her eyes with a grin at the gesture, bringing her pen back to the stack of copy paper. Looking around the room, Matt takes in the environment, looking along each colorful wall with his heart set on investigating every single picture frame, countless drawings and photographs lining every direction the office can offer. “Any of this your kids’ stuff?” Matt asks, Darlene looking up for a moment to find the subjects of Matt’s inquiry, explaining otherwise. “I don’t have children, and I don’t think I ever will” Darlene replies, watching Matt glance back towards her with confusion, “those are from my patients… They’re all my kids as far as I’m concerned, just not in the traditional way.” “Why do you say that?” Matt asks, watching Darlene’s eyes squint before he clarifies, watching her expression become one of disappointment, “why do you say you wont have kids?” Removing her reading glasses, the terribly-sighted woman leans back in her seat, finger still pressed between her fingers as her hand dangles off the arm rest. “My family has a history of breast cancer… I’m afraid my genes likely aren’t much better than theirs” Darlene replies, looking off at the darkest corner of her room, its place shaded by the lack of sunlight through the rainclouds just outside, “I’m not going to sentence a child to that kind of torture.” Coupling his hands together, Matt lets his arms fall to his lap, apologizing for the insensitivity of his question. “Don’t apologize for wanting to know more” Darlene replies, watching Matt’s head lift up, his posture having previously looked like a disappointed child, “it’s never a bad thing to want to know more.” With a nod, Matt places his tongue against the corner of his mouth as he considers further questions, his mind continuously coming back to the cancer revelation, his intrigue being stolen by every aspect of the potential conversation. “What are the chances you have it?” Matt replies, watching Darlene’s head turn towards the window, her eyes gazing out upon the dreary city just beyond her cold window. “The odds are pretty high, but I get tested fairly regularly” Darlene replies, her head being held up by the base of her hand, the woman now leaning against the desk with her elbow placed firmly upon the surface. “I’m thirty six right now, so the chances that something shows up before I’m thirty are pretty likely” Darlene replies, nodding to herself as she glances back at Matt, “the only question is whether or not we’ll catch whatever it is quickly enough.” With a deep breath, Matt nods to himself, the air escaping his lungs as the woman asks a question of her own. “Why are you so interested?” Darlene asks, watching Matt look up at her with confusion, “it’s fine that you are, but I’m curious as to why.” “It’s just hard” Matt replies, choosing his words carefully, “thinking about someone you care about being on a timetable… It’s not an easy thing to hear.” Pulling her head back slightly, Darlene takes intrigue in Matt’s chosen words, picking at them as if they were an inflated balloon, a metaphorical thumb tac clutched between her fingers. “We’ve known each other for a day and you already care about me?” Darlene asks, Matt looking away from the woman for a moment. “Yes” Matt replies, the word coming out sounding more like a breath than anything else, head turning back towards her, “you gave me this opportunity, I care for you out of appreciation for that.” Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Darlene nods to herself, head lowering as her hands place the glasses back over her face, intentions placed on returning to her work. Returning to the door, Matt places his hands upon the wooden surface, the entrance opening a few inches as the man glances back towards Darlene. “Before I forget, I’m going to need a new desk chair” Matt proclaims, Darlene removing her glasses ass she stares at him in confusion, “I had to give her some reason to feel like she could open up!” Matt now gone, Darlene’s picks up on Matt’s drift, shaking her head in disapproval and returning to work. | Performing for the high-paying clients, Candy pulls in great money the larger her crowd grows, men lining up around her stage further and further until her attention is called for from the back of the room. “Got time for a private session?” Danny calls out, a stack of cash held in the air, flaunted in the spotlight to ensure his offer appears unmistakeable. “I think you’re gonna have to get in line” Candy calls back out, returning to her character, Danny refusing to allow such move to commence. “As the owner of this club, I don’t think lines exist for me” Danny calls out, Candy halting her dance once more, eyes aggravatedly darting back to the bigshot in the back of the building. “I’ll say this one more time, just to make sure I’m not mistaken” Danny exclaims, removing a pistol from his waistband and holding it in the air, “either get the fuck back here or I’m gonna make sure this show gets shut down a.s.a.p.” With a groan, Candy leaves her pole and struts down the stairs, brushing off gropings and other touches as she pushes through the crowd, continuing her angry pace every step closer towards the man. With a smile on his face, Danny grabs at a silky red curtain and moves it out of the woman’s way, Candy refusing to acknowledge him as she marches onwards, walking wherever the voice behind tells her to. The further she walks, the more she loses track of what room she’s in, the dim red lights surrounding every inch of the interior rendering the building into one big maze with nothing more than an easily recognizable center stage. Dragging her long heels upon the carpet at times just to make herself aware of the surface she walks upon, a rush of light suddenly comes over her upon a final curtain being walked through, a room tucked away within the building’s bowels proving to be her destination. “I’ve never seen this room before” Candy exclaims, turning towards Danny at the sound of a latch locking into place behind her. “You’re not supposed to… It doesn’t exist to anyone other than a select few as far as the head of the table is concerned” Danny replies, watching Candy’s expression fall. “This isn’t your club?” Candy exclaims, a rush of honesty coming over Danny in the moment, owning up to the white lie he’d become ready to reveal. “It’s mine in everything other than payments… Other than that, this place belongs to the head of the table” Danny replies, watching Candy’s face light up. “This is the big guy’s club?” Candy replies, eyebrows lifted nearly as far as they can, only to lift further as another realization dawns upon her, “you know the big guy!?” Rolling his eyes, Danny tells the woman to ask the questions suddenly dawning over her at another time, instead instructing her to listen. “I’m not pleased with the decision I made last night, but I’m not in any position to make decisions based on what’s right and wrong” Danny explains, taking a seat on the sofa, “the only choices I make are between what’s best and what’s worst.” Puzzled, Candy gives into the man’s desire for dialogue, taking a seat opposite him and hearing out his side of the story. “Julio was like a brother to me, but he was never family” Danny explains, both hands laid upon his knees, “the only family I’ve ever known is the one I have here, and I couldn’t let Julio have a chance at taking that away.” “So, you were given a choice?” Candy asks, the answer from Danny coming in a recitement of the options he was given. “I could either betray the table, or I could betray Julio” Danny explains, “on one hand, I become the table’s number one enemy… On the other, well, I’m still alive.” Letting out a sigh, Candy apologizes half-heartedly, feeling her response to the man’s decision to still be warranted. “You shouldn’t have been put in that position, but I’m not apologizing for what I said” Candy explains, “regardless of how you make peace with it, what you did was act as a conspirator to murder, that much I am correct on.” “But that’s not the only thing that I am” Danny replies, leaning forward, making sure he cuts slightly into the space between the pair, “I didn’t want our first interaction to be cut down to just… that.” With a nod, Candy runs her tongue over her lips, eyes taken by the floor as she ponders her following question. “Why are you telling me this?” Candy asks, eager to hear Danny’s reasonings, “I know you’re supposed to keep things pretty tight-lipped, so what does it matter whether or not I think you’re an asshole?” “I don’t really know” Danny replies, stumbling over his words, stopping and starting his responses before Candy’s mouth drops, already predicting where the man is taking the conversation. “I’m a high-cost stripper, Danny” Candy calls out, hands placed firmly upon her lap, “if you’re about to tell me that you’re getting feelings or something, stop before you open your mouth again.” Taking Candy’s advice for what it’s worth, Danny closes his lips tight and nods to himself, “okay” he mutters beneath his breath. “Wonderful” Candy replies, continuing to silently nod to herself for another few seconds before standing up, immediately taking herself to the door the pair entered moments prior. The metal latches squeaking as the door shuts, Danny is left to ponder his own thoughts as the only inhabitant of the near-empty room. | Adjusting his raincoat, Matt emerges from the building with his eyes set on his car, the appearance of a man on the younger side of twenty standing beneath heavy rain capturing his focus. “Can I help you?” Matt calls out, umbrella held over his head as he stands at the base of the staircase, the kid remaining silent, refusing to respond to the man at first. Falling with such intensity that it splashes upon the ground with force, the rain accompanies a cloudy night sky, both men staring at each other, caught beneath the tears from the heavens above. “If you’re just going to stare at me, I’ll be on my way” Matt calls back, walking away from his position as the worrying figure remains stood there, just watching the man return to his car. “It’s not over, but it can be” the man calls out, prompting Matt to stop walking once more, his eyes returning to the figure stood in the street, hands nonchalantly tucked away in his pockets. Expression changing, Matt steps away from the parking lot and turns back, cautiously stepping closer to the cloaked figure with intrigue. “What did you just say?” the man asks out, calling for the man to repeat the words he heard very clearly the first time around. “I said, it’s not over… Even if you think it is” the man replies, his hands still tucked away in his pockets as he finally steps forward, doing his part the close the distance between himself and the therapist before him. Head covered by a long hood, the figure approaches Matt, only a few feet separating the pair by the time each set of feet stops progressing forward. With a better look at the man’s face, Matt nods to himself as the voice finishes it’s statement, listening carefully to each word said by the younger man. “But it can be over if you’re willing to do what’s necessary” the man concludes, watching Matt’s eyes narrow, knowing his words to be directed at the properly intended individual. “What’s your endgame here?” Matt calls out, his chin tilting upwards slightly, the change in his posture providing very little, but now sporting conviction. “We both know my family has lost touch… I want it all now” the man replies, taking a few steps closer to Matt, both men now only inches away from each other. “You’re Chris Gillcrest?” Matt asks confidently, watching the smile come over the cloaked-man’s face. “You can call me ‘Stucky’” Chris replies, his head lowering, eyes still kept steadily towards those of the man before him, “I think you and I could do great things together, Table Man.” With a brief chuckle, Stucky backs away from Matt, turning his back to the individual whom he’s come to know the true identity of, walking the path he took to get to the scene in reverse. “I’m certain that you know where to find me” Stucky calls back, unaware of the change in Matt’s expression, the revelation of his identity being known by the kid not sitting well with the man. With a scowl, Matt turns back towards his vehicle, his feet stepping over the wet concrete on his way back to his car, a set of overwatching eyes kept upon him from afar. Sat at her office window, Darlene watches Matt enter the parking lot, enter his vehicle and drive in the opposite direction to that of which the young man walked, suspicious of the man’s interaction. Staying silent, Darlene turns away from the window, returning to her work with her mind caught upon the sight she’s witnessed. == Kings of Cambridge == Series Premiere
“Mrs. Jane, I presume?” a well-dressed man asks, how hand lowering to his side with his knuckles still extended, slightly red from their contact with the door he opens to enter the room. “Ms. Jane” the woman replies with a tired tone, though a smile to make up for her lack of enthusiasm, “Though I’d prefer it if you just called me ‘Darlene’.” Stood from her seat, Darlene holds her hand out to welcome the man to her office, his soft-palm embracing hers warmly. “Matthew Tory” the man says, his name offered to the woman as easily as his application would, her hand moving away from his welcoming palm to the seat before her desk, offering him the spot. “So Matt, I guess the first question is a simple enough starting point” Darlene explains, returning to her seat with her elbows pressed against the top of her desk, “why have you applied to join Kings of Cambridge?” Fixing the loose strands of hair falling over his face, Matt crosses one leg over the other and considers his response for a moment, trying to remain as genuinely personal as he can. “I’ve researched therapeutic clinics by the dozen for miles over the last two years, and honestly, I get depressed at the results that I find” Matt explains, his interlaced fingers holding his crossed leg back, “and then I find Kings of Cambridge there, like a light in the night, and that feeling changes.” “Why so?” Darlene inquires, her eyes falling upon the man with conviction, watching every move his facial muscles make, his posture not giving anything away as of the moment. “Kings’ doesn’t operate like the rest” Matt replies, his answer simple, yet telling, “it doesn’t take advantage of the people that walk through its doors… It embraces them and does what it can to help them at every turn.” “Wouldn’t any other therapy clinic do that?” Darlene asks, intrigued by the suggestion the man makes for otherwise, “isn’t that what a therapy clinic is for?” With a nod, the man triggers his hair to fall in front of his face once more, his insistence not pausing for a moment. “Yes, they should be” Matt replies, his smile continuing to remain on his face until he concludes his answer, “but they’re not… At least, they don’t operate as though they are.” “Okay, so what I’m hearing is that you bill Kings of Cambridge as being… Different from the others” Darlene replies, leaning forward just a sliver more than she was moments prior. “Different in the best of ways, yes” Matt replies, thinking to himself in silence for a moment, Darlene remaining contained to allow the man to finish his point, “but in the worst of ways, it suffers the same faults.” Eyes squinted, Darlene pokes at the point more, her fingers clutching a metaphorical needle between her index and thumb, trying to pop a swollen balloon for all that remains held within. “The floor is yours” Darlene replies, not needing to directly inquire over the man’s point, a passing comment assuring the man of his freedom to speak openly. “You care about the people that walk through your doors, but you’re unable to help them to the best of your abilities” Matt replies, “it’s the same issue that plagues every clinic… So many people to treat, and so many therapists that leave in favor of somewhere else.” Captivated, Darlene sinks back into her chair with her hands folded, head resting against the mesh support behind her. “You used to be in therapy before you became a therapist, didn’t you?” Darlene replies, noting the only people to be familiar with such a fact to be those having formerly been involved with the practice. “You can say that, I suppose” Matt replies, a confident grin appearing through his soft lips, “what was that saying I’d always remember reciting… ‘The best therapists are the ones that have sat on the other side of the desk’?” Intrigued, Darlene nods to herself, assuring the man of his certainty, his still-closed folder resting upon the surface of the desk, waiting for her fingers to gently push it open. Giving into its request, Darlene removes the leather top to present Matt’s application, very little having been filled in on the first page, every bubble colored in suggesting she resort to the final page on the paper. His confident expression gone, Matt waits diligently for the woman’s response, her eyes having turned from intrigue to uncertainty, her expression falling into one of hidden annoyance once her eyes return to Matt. “Your application says you’re not certified as a licensed therapist, Mr. Tory” Darlene replies, the man nodding in approval towards the woman, “that is correct.” Keeping her eyes upon the man interviewing for the open position, Darlene pushes the folder on her desk shut, letting the cover fall back upon the papers carefully placed inside as she questions his motives. “I know what it means to be there for people the way that they need me to be” Matt replies, shaking his head as he concludes his first point, “I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that I understand the people that walk through this building.” “That’s not how this works” Darlene replies, her hand placed upon her forehead, rubbing at her temples to preemptively stop a headache from coming on, “I can’t hire you without certification.” The moment Darlene finishes speaking, Matt raises his follow-up, “you can hire someone other than me today, give them a patient tomorrow, and they’d both be gone within two years” Matt explains, “you put me behind that desk, and even if that patient isn’t here in two years, I still will be.” “Mr. Tony, I can’t fix one problem by creating another one, especially not when it jeopardizes my own certification” Darlene replies, sliding the man’s leather folder across the table, returning it to him. Pressing his thumb against his bottom lip, Matt brushes off the woman’s apology, assuring her that she doesn’t need to offer it. “I know more about the trials these patients are coming here with than your own therapists” Matt replies, his finger pointed towards the woman’s door. “I’ve sat in the seats that these guys have only ever heard about, which is unfortunate, because that’s why they leave” Matt continues further, “you keep hiring people like me because you’re putting the wrong people behind your desks.” With a deep breath, Darlene holds one hand towards the man, “regardless of your employment in this facility, you will not insult my staff” Darlene replies, “you can be mad at your refusal all you wish, but I will not allow you to discredit them.” “How long until they discredit the people in their rooms looking for help by abandoning them?” Matt asks, challenging her point, “how much longer until they walk off to somewhere that pays better?” With a sigh, Darlene keeps the conversation from getting out of hand, both tones coming across angry, yet well-contained. “I’m sorry, but I will not be taking you on here at Kings of Cambridge” Darlene replies, standing from her seat with her hand out, “we’ll fill this position with someone else.” With a chuckle, Matt remains seated, hands still folded between his spread legs, “yeah, and how much longer until you’re looking to replace someone else?” Annoyed, taking the statement personally, Darlene lets her hand fall to her side, only one simple question left for the applicant. “Please, leave” Darlene replies, the man’s head hanging for a moment, a sudden nod coming as he stands from his feet and lays the folder out on the woman’s desk. “You’ll be needing this soon” Matt replies, turning his back to the woman and exiting the way he came, gently shutting the door behind him, an act that only serves to further frustrate the woman he leaves behind. Her chin held towards the heavens, Darlene lets out a sigh, returning to her desk as her door opens once more. ‘Your two-thirty appointment is here” the secretary quietly informs. “Give me a second” Darlene replies, tossing the leather-bound folder onto her bookshelf without care. = Kings of Cambridge is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards = Taking one key in specific from the many attached to his key ring, Matt unlocks the door to his home and enters a dark interior, not a single lightbulb on for as far as the eye can see. With a chuckle, Matt feels the phone in his pocket begin to buzz as his fingers reach for a switch, a gentle push allowing a massive living space to brighten in the snap of a finger, a lavish home welcoming him with the embrace of smooth jazz. “Hello!” the man calls into his phone, an amused friend greeting him on the other end, inquiring over the job interview. “Not great, Danny… Not great, unfortunately” Matt replies, biting at a red pen cap before running a line through one of thousands of different names, “another one bites the dust” he concludes, returning the cap to the felt-tip pen. “How’s your end?” Matt asks, dancing his way into the kitchen before pouring himself a glass of scotch. “The world is a blank canvas we paint upon, my friend!” Danny replies, pressing a phone against his ear as he’s swarmed with half-naked women, party music blaring in the background. “Hey, how come you never hit the town with me anymore?” Danny wonders, a smirking man returning to his living space with his shoes kicked off, taking a seat in a leather recliner overlooking an indoor aquarium. “Oh, the older you get the wiser you become” Matt replies, taking a small swig of his drink with a sigh of comfort, “I’ve learned how much happier I am drinking booze alone… In quiet.” With a laugh, Danny tells his friend that he remains as funny as he always has been, a gesture Matt takes appreciation of. “Listen, I’ve been taking a lot of heat over the last few months and I’ve gotta ask again” Danny explains, checking around him before whispering into the phone, “when is that run happening?” “In due time, my friend” Matt replies, watching a massive fish emerge from its hiding place within the depths of the tank, swimming amongst the much smaller fish, “patience is a virtue.” In agreement, Danny brushes off such a notion, continuing to push for an answer. “I’m fine with waiting this out for the next ten years, but I’m not asking because I’m impatient” Danny explains, “you know what I mean?” Concerned, Matt looks away from his fish tank, placing his glass on the table beside his chair as he walks further into his home, “you’re taking heat from the other guys?” Leaving the women behind, Danny finds a quieter place to continue their conversation, settling for a backroom behind the dressing area. “Their version of investing is a bit different from ours to say the least” Danny explains, “most of them have run dry and need a way to get their accounts back in the green.” With a sigh, Matt takes a seat at his desk in the back of his home and powers on his computer, a bright screen showing countless pages of information he scans through with ease. With a few clicks of a button, Matt listens into a conversation one of his men are having in that very moment, his name being brought up more than he would like for it to be, the things being said not of the pleasant sort. “Okay, here’s what I’m going to suggest you do” Matt explains, a few further button presses preceding the conclusion of their call, “go back to the party, make sure people see you, and don’t leave.” Without a goodbye, Matt ends the phone call and returns to his living room, the dying daylight allowing the aquarium waters to appear darker. With a smile, Matt flicks a switch to illuminate the waters with a vibrant red glow, a smile on his face as he approaches the massive tank. “Let’s make sure the big guy eats, shall we?” Matt asks the creatures, knowing they won’t respond as he drops flakes upon the water’s surface, “let’s make sure the big fish stays happy.” | “Surprise!” a room full of workers shouts, the presence of a single woman creating uproar in the cramped work space. “What is all of this?” the woman asks, earning a confused look from most of the smiles aimed in her direction. “It’s the two-year anniversary of your first day here!” Darlene shouts, the woman at the forefront of the room widening her eyes. “It is?” the woman replies, a cluster of laughter emerging from the employees, the huddle breaking out into an onslaught of warm embraces. “We don’t get to celebrate anniversaries very often, so of course we’d celebrate yours!” another woman shouts, the look on Darlene’s face falling for a moment before returning to it’s prior joy. “Congratulations, Chrissy” Darlene greets as she pulls the woman in for a hug, “thanks for sticking around.” Moving onto the next greeting, Chrissy continues with her day as Darlene takes her chance to emerge from the room, entering the vacant hallway with her eyes set on her office. Pushing the doors in, Darlene seals herself away in her office, her back pushed against the door with her hands placed by her side, rattled by the woman’s response. Calming herself, Darlene returns to her desk and takes a seat in her chair, eyes falling upon the computer screen until they dart back to the top of her shelf, sights setting upon the closed leather folder left behind by the earlier-applying man. Biting her lip, Darlene leaves her bite mark in the corner of her mouth before turning her chair around, facing the folder as it sits there, taunting her in a strange way. With a huff, Darlene rests her hands upon the armrests as she shoves herself to her feet, taking the folder into her hands and walking around her desk, exiting her office once more. | “You just keep coming back for more, don’t you?” a woman charmingly quips, her intentions set upon seducing the well-off gentleman enjoying his night. “I just can’t keep my eyes away from this place, is that a crime?” Danny replies, the woman biting at the loose tie around his neck, keeping it firmly pressed between her teeth. “It’s a crime in my book” the woman replies, flashing Danny a wink as his smile remains wide. “I suppose that means you should… Lock me up?” Danny responds, the tie leaving her teeth and falling into her fingertips, acting as a leash the scantily-clad woman leads the dapper man by. “Woah, woah… Slow up!” Danny calls out as the pair walk through the door to the backrooms, a large office occupied by only one man, the hurried pace of the third party tossing things into his bag suggesting something to be wrong. “You alright?” Danny asks, earning no response at first, prompting him to reluctantly break away from the seductress, tie still in her hand. “What’s going on?” Danny asks again, the hurried man refusing to acknowledge the individual with his shirt already unbuttoned. “Julio, what’s going on!?” Danny asks again, his tie having fallen from between the woman’s fingers, Danny pulling the frantic man around by the shoulder. “Matt’s coming after me, man!” Julio shouts back, continuing to stuff his bag with his belongings as Danny inquires more. “What are you talking about, Matt’s still setting up a date for the run, amigo!” Danny calls back out, the paranoid-Julio looking back with eyes burning of refusal. “Pablo and Mike just got put down and I’m next!” Julio shouts, zipping up his bag as he runs around the desk, the back exit in his sights, “he’s getting rid of us and starting new!” Now having gotten the picture, Danny shakes his head in disappointment as Julio tosses his phone into the water cooler, turning back as his hands rest upon the exit’s handle. “Take care of yourself, Danny” Julio calls back, pushing out into the middle of the night and disappearing into the crowded streets, an aggravated Danny defeatedly replying “you too” once Julio has already been long gone. “What are you gonna do?” the woman behind Danny calls out, a speechless man not paying her question any mind, his hand already rummaging through his pocket. Pulling his phone to his ear, Danny waits for the response on the other end, hating the situation more with every dialing tone the phone feeds him between dialing the number and connecting to the other line. “Hello?” the voice on the other end replies, greeting Danny as if he were interrupting a conversation. “Sir, Julio found out about the hits… He’s dumped his phone back at the club” Danny replies, betraying the paranoid runaway in favor of remaining within his friend’s good graces, “he’s running south of the backway as far as I can tell.” “Thank you, Danny… I’ll let them know” Matt replies, hanging up before Danny can even pull the phone away from his ear, his arm defeatedly falling to his side as the conversation ends. “That was cold” the woman behind Danny replies, his face souring at her response, head turning over his shoulder to pay her the side-eye. “Business calls for relationships to be put aside” Danny replies, turning back to the woman, “when you need to get something done, you don’t hesitate.” | Her finger pressing down on a bright green button, Darlene waits for the paper shredder to power on as a fellow coworker emerges from the hallway. “Hey, Darlene” a well-fitted man greets, entering the room with his sleeves rolled up. “Hello, Perry” Darlene replies, the man leaning his non-dominant hand against the counter as he follows his greeting with silence, “is there something I can help you with?” “Yeah, there is” Perry replies, hesitant to say much at first, still easing himself into the conversation he intends to have, uncertain of how to introduce it. “I’m not too sure of how to explain this, so I’m going to cut over the edges and just get to it” Perry explains, his eyes having aimed away from Darlene through the brief conversation, only returning to her when his reason is made unavoidably clear, “Lingard made me an offer and I’m going to take it.” Blindsided, Darlene places Matt’s application to the side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, uncertain herself as to what he response should be. Thinking it over carefully, Darlene settles on the initial question that pops into her cluttered mind, “why didn’t you tell me they made you an offer sooner?” Both hands held in front of him, Perry insists that he didn’t plan on taking the offer at first. “I turned it down when they first gave it to me, I didn’t even care to listen to the terms!” Perry explains, his eyes falling as he details the events following, “they kept coming at me until I agreed to hear them out, and when I did, there was no way I could justify turning them down.” With a huff, Darlene looks around the room, following the patterns in the wall as if they were her thoughts, hoping the right response would come to her eventually. “So you strong arm them into a deal and then tell me after you’ve already agreed?” Darlene questions, one hand lifted into the air, her aggravation keeping her from restraining herself any longer. “Do you know how long it’s going to take to disperse your client list to the other therapists?” Darlene asks, losing the words to say. “I’ve told them that I’ll be staying here until the process is settled!” Perry explains, his offer to remain in his position until further notice something he serves to keep frustrations at a minimum. “I’ll train my replacement, I’ll get disperse my clientele to the other therapists myself if I have to, I’ll make certain that everything operates smoothly” Perry continues, watching Darlene’s hand lift into the air, her finger pointed towards the way he came. “Get out” Darlene says, the man arms falling to his side, “go tell Lingard you can start tomorrow and get the fuck out of my clinic.” Head hung, Perry calls out the woman’s name, receiving the same order he had seconds prior, her refusal to entertain his presence any further being taken loud and clear. Nodding, Perry taps his hands against the counter behind him and returns to the exit, departing the room as quickly as he entered, leaving the woman with her head against the wall. Shaking her head in aggravation, Darlene pulls a seat away from the table and hangs her head in her hands, loose strands of hair protruding from her palms. Slamming her arms against the table as they fall atop each other, Darlene looks at the table in front of her, eyes immediately falling upon the closed folder. Annoyed, the woman turns towards the shredder beside her and powers it down, eyes set upon the essay-like explanation of why Matt should be hired. | Called for by the knocking on his front door, Matt pushes himself out of his chair, hand pulling the door open to reveal Darlene waiting for him on the other side. “This is your house?” Darlene asks, watching the man’s smile appear, arms extended as if he were king of the world. “I’m pretty good at navigating Wall Street, if I’m patting myself on the back” Matt replies, welcoming the woman into his home, her eyes wandering around the interior, in shock at the lavish wonder he lives in. “I’m sorry, even if it speaks down upon my place of work, I must ask” Darlene explains, standing in front of the man, a tiny woman in comparison to the giant structure around her on all sides, “why would you want to work at my clinic if you live in this place?” With a shrug, Matt places his hands into his pockets, shoulders lifting to his chin as he brushes his wealth away from consideration. “Regardless of how well off I am, I’ve never brushed away from my affinity to helping people” Matt explains, walking past the woman and into his living room, “I may live a life of luxury, but I want to steer other people towards that as well.” Placing his application on his coffee table, Darlene takes a seat on his fur-covered sofa, her sights remaining on everything other than Matt. “Why not be a financial adviser, then? Go around telling people how to create a portfolio and manage their assets properly?” Darlene inquiries, finally looking at Matt for a change, “why try to fix the broken instead?” Lips puckered, Matt crosses his arms with his eyes directed to the floor, a pure-white rug laid before him, the luxury being so common to him that he’s forgotten what it feels like to view it as a symbol of accomplishment. “I’m successful now not because of my younger experiences, but in spite of them” Matt explains, telling Darlene of a much different time. “My arms weren’t resting on some soft cushion, they were resting on chipped paint-laiden walls with a needle in my arm” Matt explains, taking in a deep breath, “no one thought much of me, and that didn’t change once I found success… I was the same junkie using a different high in their eyes.” “What ‘different high’ do you mean?” Darlene replies, her instincts to serve as a therapist coming as naturally as the man’s previous trauma’s had. “The thrill of dying kept me going more than the drugs did… And it hurt a lot less than drugs did, if we’re counting the benefits” Matt explains, “I’d do whatever dangerous thing I could if it meant getting an adrenaline kick.” Intrigued, Darlene remains silent, her refusal to speak being noticeable in Matt’s eyes, the man having been comfortable with this sort of scene before, allowing himself to give into it. “There were people along the way that helped me see how much I had made” Matt explains, “they knew how much I had come into by going all in and leaving victorious… And they never asked for a penny.” Clearing his throat, Matt downs the rest of the scotch in his cup and rests back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other as it had been earlier in the day. “They taught me that the high was no longer worth the rush because I didn’t need to force the pain away with a needle” Matt explains, his head tilting to the side, flashing his charm towards the woman, a smile forming in the corner of his mouth, “I could just buy it away with a stack of cold, hard cash.” “What did the people that didn’t stay by your side think?” Darlene asks, Matt’s expression falling as he recalls their faces, repeating their names in his head as their presence brings on bad thoughts. “They… They ended up-” Matt replies, snapping out of the trance their recollection pulled him in as his phone begins to buzz, his attention being required elsewhere. “May I?” Matt asks, Darlene quietly waving her hand for him to attend to his business. “Hello?” Matt answers, Darlene’s face turning towards the fishtank as the man continues his conversation, eyes fixated on the massive fish walled off behind the glass. “Thank you, Danny… I’ll let them know” Matt concludes, returning the phone to his pocket with a few additional clicks of a button, his focus returning to the woman ahead of him. “I’ll cut straight to the question that I’d ask through one line of dialogue to another” Darlene explains, “how should that convince me to hire you?” His head lowering just a small bit, Matt returns to the thought of those he associates with most closely, the leg he’s placed atop his opposite leg being returned to the floor. “They made me realize that the true way to help people was not to tell them what to and not to do” Matt explains, his eyes having fallen away from Darlene until that moment, returning to her in full as his statement concludes, “the way is to put someone in their corner, someone that will fight with them, not for them.” Eyes lowering to her own folded hands, Darlene considers her options for a moment before leaning forward, pressing her fingertips against the leather bound folder and sliding it to Matt’s end of the table. Taking this as a suggestion, Matt leans forward and returns the folder to his hands, opening the top with his eyes upon Darlene to find a single word written at the top of the first page, written in bright red ink. “Approved” Matt proclaims, Darlene stepping out of her chair before Matt can pull his eyes away from the word, her hand held out towards Matt, waiting for his eyes to pull away from his application. “I’m putting my ass on the line to bring you aboard, Matthew” Darlene explains, watching Matt look up to her with an appreciative stare she hadn’t expected, “now you put your ass on the line and prove I didn’t make the worst mistake of my life.” The first smile given to her out of appreciation rather than persuasion, Darlene embraces Matt’s handshake before showing herself out, giving him a time and date to arrive by. Closing the door behind her, Darlene departs the man’s property just as Matt’s phone rings, his overwhelming joy in taking in the sights of his boldly-written approval almost prompting him to miss the call. “This is King speaking” Matt replies, a stern voice on the other line bringing his focus to something more, business calling for his emotions to be put aside. “I’ve got the runner stifled on the tracks, sir” a large man explains, the loud roaring of an oncoming train nearly drowning out Julio’s muffled cries for mercy. “I can make it look like a suicide if those are your orders, sir” the man on the other end explains, Matt placing his application back upon the table before he answers. “Make it look clean, Brutus” Matt replies, keeping his demands simple and precise. “Always, sir” Brutus replies, hanging up his call and pulling Julio to his feet, removing the gag from his mouth and untying the restraints around his hands. “Please, I didn’t do nothing!” Julio shouts, a straight right hand from Brutus finding the sweet spot between Julio’s eyes, putting him to sleep. The train growing louder, Brutus clutches the unconscious Julio in his arms with his back to a concrete cylinder, waiting for the perfect moment. Just as they train approaches, Brutus tosses the body onto the tracks, Julio’s arms flailing in the air as he falls to mimic a suicide attempt. At the last moment, the train blares its horn, the last-moment call for Julio to remove himself from the vehicle’s tracks allowing Brutus to walk away from the impact zone. With a background of crunching and spurting, Brutus considers the job to have been done, turning around to admire the splattered blood painting the area before walking away with a smile. “Sorry, Julio” Brutus says beneath his breath, climbing into his car with glee, “hail to the King” == Kings of Cambridge == |
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