Person Of Interest. [GoodGuyFitz]

The Boys. (6)

"Let's get down to business."

~

Anger. All I can feel right now is anger. All I had done is witness this Eric guy toss some coke at Cam. That's it. I don't get why I get the shit end of the stick here. I promised to keep my mouth shut but apparently that wasn't fucking enough.

"Cam says you're good at reading people, which is one of the reasons why you're here and not somewhere in the bottom of the pacific ocean right now. The second day you knew him you could see who he was without him having to say much, right?" Ryan questioned while twirling the pistol in his hands.

"Right. Can I ask a question?"

"No," he shut me down, "If you want to live I need you to read every one of these guys in this room, aside from Cam. If you get something right, you might be useful. If you fuck up...Well," he pointed the pistol at me and smirked, "Start with whoever you want. I'll give you a few minutes to start, have a conversation or three if you need. Keep it light and don't ask personal questions."

Hell. I didn't need to ask questions. I had talked to Eric the most, so I'll save him for last. My eyes fell on the younger lad to the right of Ryan. He looked younger than all of us, the one with the crappy rolled cigarette, "You," I gestured to him.

"You're the youngest. And by the looks of that shit roll you've got, you've got some issues. But you are smart. I'm going to go out on a whim here and address all of you, you run some sort of drug ring mafia shit, whatever, right? This kid is the kid who handles the small stuff. He supplies the smaller suppliers in bulk. He's also the goofiest and fucks around too much, tends to make some of you lot in trouble with that big mouth, yeah?" I searched their eyes, looking for some sort of approval.

The kid leaned forward and extended his hand, "The names Mason."

I shook Masons hand and looked over to Ryan who was nodding in approval, "You. Ryan, right?" He nodded, "You run these guys. You tell them what to do, where to do it, and how to do it. You make the calls and get the shit sent here. You're basically the boss and all of these guys are pretty much your bitches."

"Keep impressing me like this and you'll be one of em lovey."

The lad on the left of Ryan. Short brown hair, wanna-be beard, and thick glasses. All of the other guys sported plain clothing, but he wore an off white t-shirt and I noticed his glasses were made by Gucci, "You handle the online business. Dark web, deep web, Twitter DMs. If it's online, you do it. I also have this inkling that you get paid more than these guys, but that's also because you're one of the harder workers. I'm also getting a feminine vibe but that's not really a subject we're here for, are we?"

"Toby," he nodded at me.

The man next to Toby never looked at me. He kept his gaze fixated on the poker chip that twirled around his fingers. I'm pretty sure he never blinked. "You're the quiet one. You're here because you ripped Ryan off a few years ago, badly. And now you gotta pay off your debt by working for this guy.
I can tell you're the one who transports the goods because you're quiet, reserved, and know how to stay out of the way and stay undetected."

"That's Jay," Cam nudged me.

"You're the guy who wanted to kill me the second you saw me. Is it Mark? Max?" I know it's Matt, but a girl needs to have some fun.

"Matt," he spat while looking dead into my eyes.

"Ah, Matt. You're the guy that, handles, people when they become a problem. It's not that I doubt any of you haven't killed a man or woman. At least maybe Toby over there hasn't. But you're the guy that handles what everyone else is too lazy to handle."