"For fucks sake!" I hear a woman scream from inside the office that I was about to set foot in.

According to the directions that the security man on the door said, I had to go to Deborah Sance's office.

"Baby must of have done it again." I hear another voice, but this time is from one girl that was standing next to a printer, drinking a small cup of coffee as she lifted it to her lips.

"I know, I bet that she's really about to loose it now. What's the number this time?" The girl that was standing next to the other girl questioned.

"Pft! Even I lost the count. I'm sure as hell more than ten though. That guy is so good at this game, and Deborah can't seem to win. At all." The girl with the coffee laughed as she said it.

I approached them, probably a good or bad idea.

"Is that Deborah's office?" I said once they got up to my existence. The girl with the coffee nodded.

"Newbie?" The other girl questioned. I nodded, this is why is was a bad idea.

"Great, after you finish your business with Deborah, fetch me some lunch for me at twelve o'clock." I really didn't want to make enemies but this b— person does not leave me another choice.

"I'm sorry, I think you have mistaken the word newbie with I—N—T—E—R—N," I spell aloud so she can really hear what the difference was.

I smiled as she looked at me annoyed. "Thanks for your help though, it was very much appreciated." I march off and head towards the now quiet office room that belonged to the chief.

'Please don't let her be another bitch...' I silently beg for my sake and the chief's. I knock once I finish my little prayer.

I touch my perfectly styled bun, that was now accumulating blood from my head, just great.

I check my hands to check if I have every paper that I needed.

I placed them all in one hand and swallowed as I hear the bottoms of heals click against the silky grey tiled floor.

The brown door opens and I'm met with an annoyed looking lady.

"Who are you?" She questions, I know she didn't meant to sound rude as she was already annoyed but it still waved me off a bit.

She had a strong accent that I could barely understand but I still managed to captured what she said.

What was up with these people at this company? My only go—to person would be the sweet old security man.

He even gave me gum, saying that it helps you calm your nerves. I never had the time to eat that piece of gun, I regret it now.

"I'm the new new report; Angelica Martinez," I said as I extended my arm. "I start today, actually." I say.

Deborah nods slightly and reaches forward and grips my hand. "Nice to meet you, Angelica. As you can see this company is always busy, reporters find hundreds of stories to look a week. Which can be very difficult, some make it some don't," we let go of our hands and she offers to let me in into her office with her hands.

"The stress levels that they reach are so unbearable that a lot of reporters quit because of it, are you sure you can handle all of that?" Deborah enters the office as I follow up behind her.

The inside of the office was like any other, but with big window behind her desk, an amazing sight to look at when you're at work.

I can't imagine how beautiful the sunset must be from this sight that the window provides you.

"I was born ready,"I say with confidence. I needed to do this, for him.

"Well let's hope you stay with that energy your whole journey here," Deborah took a sit in her chair and looked at the papers scattered all around her desk.

Some had words highlights and some with statistics and a photo of a person, but I could only see some of it. So I'm not really sure who that person is.

"Well since you have this much of an enthusiasm, why don't you start to look for a story——" Deborah stopped talking and she gazed at the papers that were scattered around her desk again, seeming to think deeply.

"Actually, why is it that you became a reporter in the first place?" The question caught me off guard but I still managed to answer it.

"To make justice happen, help others voice their voices when they can't be heard. To take criminals down." And to make justice for him.

But I couldn't bring my personal life at my workplace, at least not now.

Deborah nodded at my answer, in a good way I sense. "Good, you're on luck." She says, almost with relief. I frown, how was on luck?

"How exactly am I lucky, Mrs. Sance?" I questioned.

"I have a story for you, well it's not finished yet. It's an on and off case." She says before gathering all the papers on her desk into a single and stood up.

"Here, this is our guy. Your task is simple, find me more things about this guy." She handed me the files, and I skip through some words.

I rapidly quiz the paper before looking up at Deborah. "Who is he?" I flip through some papers and find the photo that I had seen before, it was a little bit crumpled up but I could still see the guy very clearly.

"That's exactly what I'm asking my self, my best guess is that he's part of the mafia. He was seen one time with another mafia leader; Ricardo Boneto. One of my guys handed the photo to me and since then I have my eye on this guy. He hasn't done anything out of the normal, but that's the part that I suspect most." Deborah explains.

"Baby?" I say out loud as I see the name below his crumpled picture.

"That's how he runs in the streets, nobody knows who he is. Only that he's name is baby. Pretty cliche huh? The guy is an expert in being a shadow in the streets." Deborah says.

"But this story seems too important, why are you giving this to me? I may mess up..."

"I want you to prove yourself to me by doing something big, I can see it in you and I just met you. And believe me, I have a good eye on people. Also don't worry about him finding who you are, he knows we want his story. That's why he's acting low now. My photographers are on his neck every time, yet they haven't found anything out of the normal. That is until he goes into whore houses. When my guys try to enter they are denied every time."

"How often does he go there?"

"Every Tuesdays, Saturdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. It may change but I still wrote it down on the papers that you have now. You may go home and begin your own research from there, but do not lack. This guy is really an art work, he goes in and out of jail as if it were a drive—thru."

"Alright, but where should I start?" This guy already sounded like a headache. My best guess on all of this is that she handed the story to me as she couldn't take it anymore.

"Where ever you need to start, but make it fast. Start your investigation. And please be careful, do not ever go into that whore house, it may not be even a whore house. It might be a hide out for drugs, guns or something worse. You must be careful, now go."

—

I swirl my wine as I gaze at his picture, memorizing his every detail. The small cross of his cheekbone, his blue fire gazing eyes.

His tattoos, oh, god how many tattoos did this guy had? I hated guys with tattoos, I think is stupid to marl your skin forever.

I sip the way too sour wine, it was bad, really bad. This is what I get from buying stuff at a drug store. My rent took every single penny of mine.

I sigh but drink the rest of the wine. The suit that the guy seemed to wear looked expensive. Very expensive at that.

He definitely had to earn a lot of money, maybe it was a well paying job. But why was he seeing a mafia leader? Definitely not a normal guy now. I'm going to find out who he really was.

A normal guy wouldn't have that luxurious of clothing at all, maybe some, but those were just meant to be jerks that are wanna be's rich kids.

As I keep staring at his photo I can't help but look at the gap that was between his chest and the white dress shirt.

He seemed to work out, I should definitely write that down. His chest seemed tattooed as well, I wonder what else he has tattooed?

I place the photo beside me on the couch and bring my legs underneath me as I reach for another paper. It had little information on it, just like all the other ones.

I let out yawn, last night I slept at three as I couldn't fall asleep. I'm very tired but I must do this. I need to pay the next rent as well, and food, more bills... fuck me, I'm fucked.

Ignoring all the negative thoughts, I concentrate on the task in hand.

Height: about 6'3

Age: young thirties

Name: Baby

Nickname used on the streets.

February 23, 2019.

My guess was right, today he went to the whore house once again. That confirms his pattern of visits.

I saw a woman go out her dress was slutty and her make up was smeared up, hickies on top of her chest and neck, confirming me that she was a hooker.

I caught up to her and asked her if she knew something about Baby.

She immediately ignored me and almost ran away from me, I tried to chase her but she just screamed to leave her alone.

I concluded that Baby is a dangerous man and people are even scared of him, even when his not with them. I suppose that he goes here to fuck wom—

I stop reading as all of the other information was unnecessary. Deborah really is some detailed person.

As I turn the page I find an address, 45 Riverson 10089. On top of the address letters were wrote; "Whore House." I remember what Deborah said, don't go to the whore house.

Well I'm not really known for following things, if I need to get to the bottom of this I must go deep. Deborah said that I cannot enter, she never said that I couldn't visit.

—