Mouthpiece is still gripping onto my wrist, even though we're far enough away from Krupke and the police station. We bump and shove people out of the way, as we run through the streets of New York. I then realised what I need to do, I try and wriggle out of his grip.
"Mouthpiece, let go-"
"Sorry, no can do-"
"Buddy, I'm serious-"
"Yeah, so am I-"
"No, Mouthpiece, let. Go!" I give him the hardest shove, and I jerk my wrist away from him whilst he stumbles backwards. We're both out of breath.
"Mouthpiece, I need to find Riff. I know you know where he is, please just tell me." I say, sternly.
"I...I can't Annika." Mouthpiece mutters to me.
"Why? If your not telling me where they are, then tell me where it is." I ask him, still being stern with him. He looks around, then he pulls me into the alleyway.
"It's by the salt-shed. By the docks. Midnight." He tells me, whilst I take shaky deep breaths.
"I can't tell you where Riff is. But all I can say is that he wants to bring heat, in case they bring heat." My heart stops.
"Heat?!" I press, and the Jet nods. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" I ask, aggressively.
"Well, what do you think?" He pauses. "He wants to be prepared, in case they come prepared." He gestures with his hands.
"Okay, thanks buddy." I say, as I feel my panic rising.
"Will ya be joinin' us? Tonight?" Then it hit me. An idea.
"Um, maybe. Where are you meetin'?" I ask.
"We're meetin' at the abandoned chop shop. Ya know? By the old garage?" He tells me.
"Okay, when?" I question him.
"11:00." He confirms, to which I just nod and walk away. Once I'm out of his sight, I run to the docks. The only place I can think of Riff goin'.
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Fanfiction"Riff, this whole thing is getting out of hand. It was fun when we made the Jets, but it's getting too much." "What do you mean it's 'getting outta hand'?" "I mean, Riff, you bought a gun for a little rumble that shouldn't be happening!" "You ain...