One

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Anything for the scoop. That should be my motto. I was a budding journalist, and in my eyes, there was no such thing as going too far. The bolder and more crass the story, the more I wanted to be the one to cover it. The more dangerous the situation, the bigger the headline. I could care less about the payout, I was in it for the story. My name would some day be a household name.

I was a reporter, there was no distance I wouldn't go. No rock I wouldn't turn. I would get that scoop. And someday, I would be the most sought after journalist there was...

Someday.

Today, unfortunately, was not that day. Today? Well today I couldn't even afford to buy a pack of cigars from this stupid imported store I was standing in.

"Are you aware of the rumors about this establishment?" I asked and then forced my recorder to the cashier across the counter.

"I'm sorry?"

I rolled my eyes. "The rumors, that this establishment is somehow connected to one of the Five Families?"

"The...what?"

"The Five Families! The five original Italian American Mafia crime families of New York! The five families which have dominated organized crime in the United States since the late thirties! The-"

"Early thirties." He interrupted.

"AH HA!" I gasped. "So you have heard of them. Tell me, who is your business is in coohoots with?" I leaned across the counter further forcing the recorder closer to him. "Is it the Gambinos? No, no, I'll bet it's the Genovese. No! The Bonanno!"

"It's not my store. I just work here." He said putting his hands up submissively.

I frowned. "Listen-" I glanced to his name tag and then back to his face. "John. If you know something you need to talk. Not only would you be obstructing the law if you didn't, but imagine how great your life would be if you did. I mean, if you helped uncover something like this-"

"If anyone uncovered anything to do with any mafia they'd be a dead man."

He had a point there. I pulled the recorder away. "I'm not getting anything from you am I?" I asked with a sigh.

He smiled, seeming somewhat sympathetic to my struggle and shook his head. "Sorry. There's no story here."

I sighed. "Are you suuuuure?" I put on my best flirtatious face.

"Positive."

I pressed the stop button on my recorder. "Fine." I grumbled. "Can I at least use the bathroom before I go?"

He smiled politely and pointed me in the direction of the bathroom.

I made my way to the restroom. I didn't even have to go. I was hoping that maybe there'd be some interesting pictures or something along the hallway or in the bathroom, a face that I could trace. The owner of this building leads to that building leads to...and so on. But nothing. I was feeling frustrated now.

I was sick of reporting dead end stories. I didn't even have a paper I worked for. I hadn't earned that yet. No. I was stuck doing freelance, along with every other wanna be out here. If I wrote it, and they liked it, I was in. But that meant it had to be better than everyone else's, and if it was a story their own company was covering it was useless. Finding my own stories was essentially my only hope now.

I picked up the stupid swan dish with individually wrapped mints in it, scoffed, and slammed it back down. "Ridiculous." I muttered. I pulled out a tube of ruby red lipstick, and applied a thin coat over my lips. I had time to kill in here.

I had just smucked my lips when I started hearing a ruckus. A loud ruckus. The kind of ruckus you generally hear from guns. Lots of guns.

The building was being shot up? Oh yes, definitely mafia related ties here. But that would have to wait. I dove into a stall and jumped up onto the toilet so my feet would disappear. And then? The reporter in me pulled her cellphone on and hit the record button. Holy shit. I was in the middle of a shooting. If I survived this, I had inside footage! Well, inside the bathroom footage anyway.

The sounds of the continuous rounds stopped, and the bathroom door came open with a slam. The normal human being and terrified woman in me wanted to let out a shrill scream, but I remained completely mute, even when whoever had entered the bathroom started firing off in the room. Bullets came through the bathroom stall, they seemed to never stop coming. I was covering my head with both of my arms and chewing my cheek so hard to keep from screaming I could taste blood.

After what was probably only a couple seconds of open firing across the whole bathroom the room was quiet. And then, I heard footsteps.

'Oh. Fuck. Oh shit. Oh God. Oh damn. Oh no. Oh hell. Oh I'm going to die. Oh-' I thought frantically in my head. I heard the door two stalls beside to me get kicked open, and then silence. I had left my lipstick on the counter! Fucker. Fucking fucker. More footsteps. I pointed towards my own stall door. My hands were shaking so bad, but I was ready to capture him when he came. Not that anyone would ever see this.

The stall next to my own was kicked violently open.

'Oh hell'

After a few moments of silence the footsteps. I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was it. I was going to die. And I didn't even get the story. I saw his shoes from under the stall. I held my breath, he took a step forward.

"Sbrigati, sprigati!" I heard someone yelling. "Andiamo! Polizia!"

(Hurry up, hurry up! Let's go! Police!)

"Figlo di puttana. Si arrivo." He groaned and suddenly the feet in my line of vision were retreating. Feet and voices I had on camera! Holy damn!

(Son of a bitch. I'm coming.)

I stayed holed up in the bathroom for what felt like three eternities before finally bringing my still shaking feet to the floor. I turned back to look at the holes in the stall. The stall that I had just been leaning against. How had they missed me? He clearly knew what he was doing, the bullet holes were not in a straight line, oh no. They were high, low, left, right, and some how, not one had touched me.

Someone was on my side tonight, and I wasn't going to let that go to waste. I was going to get my scoop.

Still wielding my phone set to record and made my way out of the bathroom.

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I have the first chapter blues, meaning I really actually hate it but you've got to start somewhere. Be sure to vote and comment and if you make it through the first few chapters I promise it really doesn't suck!

By the way, I DON'T speak italian, i depend heavily on interwebs for my translations, if you happen to know italian and see an improper translation I would actually greatly appreciate you correcting it. (:

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