All language subtitles for Mickey.Hardaway.2023.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

(music continues)

♪ You can't play me ♪

♪ That hard doctrine can't sway me ♪

♪ So fuck you nigga, still pay me ♪

♪ I'm on your mark, get set, ready ♪

♪ I gotta keep the bass steady ♪

♪ Been doing this for a while ♪

♪ And now shit getting heavy ♪

♪ And I ain't talking
about this rapping shit ♪

♪ I'm talking about this
lip and shit I spit ♪

♪ Can a nigga get time to vent ♪

♪ Without getting fucking
capped or nicked ♪

♪ Or touched down in these
streets by these pigs ♪

♪ They think they slick ♪

♪ This media world, sick ♪

♪ But I still ball in the game ♪

(music trails into distance)

- Yeah.

- See, after a day like today,

we needed a glass of wine.

- Yeah, we did.

Hey sweetie, I just
wanna, I wanna thank you.

For all your hard work and sacrifice.

- Aw.

- I appreciate you.

- You know how you can
show your appreciation?

- How?

- You can actually take those
cooking lessons I got you.

So we can stop waiting for
takeout every single night.

(laughs)

- Excuse me, now you now
taking it too far, okay?

I can cook well before those lessons.

We both know I'm better than you.

- Oh, yeah, no.

You keep telling yourself that, okay?

You have a better chance
of owning the Lakers

before you could ever out-cook me.

- Is that right?

- Mm-hmm.

- Can you make that happen?

- Um, no. (laughs)

But our season tickets will
be coming in the mail soon.

- Yeah, you just make sure
those seats are court-side,

right next to,

to Jack, and maybe Denzel.

Rihanna, hanging out.

- Oh, hey girl.

(laughs)

I'll see what I can do.

- Oh, the food's here.

- Oh, hey, look.
- No, babe, I got it,

just stay there looking delicious.

- Ooh, mwa.

- Stay there.

(footsteps thud)

(door clicks)

(dramatic music)

- Baby, I can't lie.

I've been having these
thoughts in my head lately

and they're scaring me.

With everything's that's
happened over the past few days.

Shit, my entire life in general.

I think I'm losing my grip.

I don't feel like myself anymore.

- (sighs) You don't have to tell me.

I've noticed it, for a while now.

It's like the life has
been sucked out of you.

I can't imagine what you're going through.

It's unbearable and unacceptable.

But that doesn't mean you
don't have love in your corner.

I love you.

I knew it from the moment I saw you,

it was love and nothing but.

I may not be the one that can fix you,

but I'm here for you.

We'll figure this out together.

I promise we will.

Maybe you can go see someone to talk to?

Like a therapist?

- Yeah.

You think that's a good idea?

- Can it hurt?

(laughs) Especially if
they know what they doing.

(laughs)

My mom went to see a
therapist a few years ago

when she had a nervous breakdown
after my dad was killed.

I used to think therapy
was a waste of time,

but it worked for her.

It's worked for a lot of
people in your situation.

She has a very good therapist.

One of the best in his profession.

(computer pings)

(keyboard clicks)

This is him.

- Mr. Hardaway? Hi, Dr.
Harden will see you now.

- Thank you.

(giggles)

This is it.

Good luck.

I'll be back in an hour.

- What?

Wait, you're not coming inside with me?

- This is for you to
say what's on your mind,

to let out any anger and frustration.

Only you and Dr. Harden can
get to the root of your issues,

but I'll be there in spirit.

I'll see you later, okay?

(birds tweet)

- Mr. Hardaway, are you ready?

Right this way.

(clock ticks)

Alright.

He'll be right with you, okay?

(clock ticks)

- Hi, Mickey.

I'm Dr. Harden.

- How you doing?

- Doing okay. It's a
long day, but I'll live.

Please, have a seat.

So, Mickey,

what seems to be the problem
that's clouding over you?

- Life.

Life is the problem.

Family and people in
general are the issue.

And the Lord above doesn't
seem to have any guidance

He'd like to share in my direction.

Life is hard.

I get it.

But it shouldn't get to
the point where every day

you have dreams and
visions of ending it all.

You don't feel an ounce of
shame or remorse about it.

It's the same thing,

day after day after fuckin' day.

My father could give a damn if I'm alive.

My boss makes my life a living hell.

My girlfriend is the only thing

that actually brings meaning to my life.

A real sense of purpose.

Grace is the only thing worth living for,

but sometimes I'm afraid to move forward

with the vision that I
have for the two of us.

Getting married, starting a family,

things that should be
desired to strive for.

- You know, Mickey,

we all have some sort of hardship

that we go through in life.

I, too, have had my share over the years,

and it seems like, for
one reason or another,

when we have these
trials and tribulations,

we don't have that,

that important necessary
figure to sit with

and discuss our dilemmas.

That's why I'm here.

To support you in your time of need,

and, hopefully, after healing.

My guidelines are simple.

First, I want any of the
answers to the questions

that I personally ask you

to be truthful and out loud,

as if we're having a regular conversation.

There's no need to hold anything back

or hide any emotion from me.

This is why I'm here,

for you to release those feelings, okay?

- Okay.

- So I'd like to know something

a little bit more personal about you.

Likes, dislikes.

- Likes, drawing.

I love drawing.

I've always wanted to become
a cartoonist or animator.

Become, like, the next Mike
Judge or Matt Groening.

Maybe even get into comics like Stan Lee.

But there's nothing more
exciting than creating.

I got to live my dream as a cartoonist.

I was great at it.

But I lost it,

over some bullshit that
wasn't even my fault.

- Sorry to hear that.

Any other likes?

- I love hunting.

- [Dr. Harden] Hunting.

You're a hunting fan?

- Yeah, I am.

I'm such a good shot.

My father actually got me
a gun for my 18th birthday,

that I still have to this day.

I'll probably never use it,

unless I have to.

- Dislikes?

- People.

The only thing lingering over me,

I despise people with a passion.

- Let's talk about some of those people.

Um, start with your family.

You mentioned your dad.
Let's talk about him.

- I have a small family.

I have my mother and my brother.

I'm the youngest.

My father,

I could talk about him all
day until my hair turns gray.

Nothing comes to fruition.

He's your typical hard-nosed,
blue-collar type guy.

Worked 10 to 12 hour days every day.

He's a man who's tough.

Can't say that he's fair.

He was hard on us.

I think he treated us that
way because life is hard.

- Mm.

- But there's a difference
between being tough

and being a dick.

(people chattering on TV)

- Mickey, would you stop drawing

and eat your food before it gets cold?

Come on.

- You know, you should be selling
his drawings, right, Mama?

I showed some of my
guys at school his work.

It's crazy good.

They all wanna pay him
to design stuff for 'em

when they go and get tattoos next week.

- Boy, stop lying.

- I'm not.

Mickey.

Now, listen to me.

You can make a lot of
bread with your work.

You and me against the world.

- Watch your mouth. (laughs)

You is not gonna go pimping
your little brother.

What's wrong with you?

What are you drawing anyway?

It's like whatever it is,

it's taking you away from the
rest of the world, Mickey.

- It's a picture of Kobe
Bryant from the Lakers.

- Ooh, let me see.

Oh, that's dope.

It looks just like him.

Nah, for real. That's legit.

Although I don't think you can
leave big Shaq out of there.

You know he might sue us

if you don't put him in there, right?

- Yeah, it is good.

It's very good.

You're like my little Picasso.

So proud of you, you're
gonna be a real good one now,

I just know it.

- It's my little brother, mama.

Come on. I already told you that.

And with me as his manager,
he's gonna be even better.

40% off top.

- [Jackie] Boy, you flunked math.

- Mama, I went to summer school for that.

Come on. You know that.

- Just remembered this.

Uh, my teacher said

there's this drawing program he does in...

downtown LA on the weekends.

I was wondering if I can go, please?

- I don't know, sweetie.

Um, I don't know.

Let me see.

(people cheering on TV)

Tell you what, I'll talk
to your father about it.

- [Mr. Sweeney] So you know
what time it is, right?

- No!

- [Mr. Sweeney] Yeah, buddy. Yeah, buddy.

It's test time.

(class groans)

Look, I believe in you guys.

You guys are amazing.
You guys are awesome.

You guys are gonna do
it really well, okay?

Take one.

Pass it down.

(hand taps on desk)

Okay, you guys got 20
minutes to finish this, okay?

Good luck.

(bell rings)

Alright, see you guys tomorrow.

Be safe.

Keep your hands to yourself. (laughs)

Mickey, can I talk to you?

Like, I have to be honest with you,

your artwork is fantastic.

- Thank you, Mr. Sweeney.

- You're welcome.

Oh, did you talk to your parents

about attending my art program?

Look, I only have two spots open

and I really, really
want you to participate.

- My mom asked my dad
last night and he said no.

- No?

Mickey, is everything okay at home?

Is there anything you
wanna talk to me about?

Mickey, this is a safe space.

You can tell me anything.

- No.

- Well, look,

how about I take you home today

so I can talk to your parents

about the program this weekend?

Okay?

So, have a seat and let
me get my things together

and we can leave.

(car engine rumbles)

- Who the fuck are you

and why was my son
getting out of your car?

- Mr. Hardaway. Good evening.

I'm Joseph Sweeney, Mickey's teacher.

I'm sorry to bother you at your home,

but I wanted to talk to you personally.

So, being that he lives a
few blocks from the school,

I decided to give him a ride home.

- Come here.

Did he touch you?

- Sir, you can be assured-

- Shut the fuck up.

Well, I'm not talking for my health.

Did he touch you?

Get in the house, now.

Give me one good reason
why I shouldn't kick

the dog shit outta you right now.

- Please believe, you have
every right to be upset.

(dog barks)

I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries.

(dog barks)

I just wanted to discuss with you

(dog barks)

about letting Mickey be
a part of my art program

at the Rec Center in downtown LA.

It's free of charge.

- No, I already told him that.

Now I'm telling you.

So get the fuck off my property.

- Mr. Hardaway, please reconsider.

This will be a huge
benefit to his, his future.

Mickey has a bright future ahead of him.

- Future?

Man, art is a waste of time.

It's not a livable career.

It's no way to make a living
for a long period of time.

- Look, I disagree completely.

There are very successful
artists throughout history,

especially in the field of animation.

You may not see the gift
inside of him, but I do.

Mickey, he could be the next Chuck Jones

or, or Hanna-Barbera.

- You are feeding pipe dreams to him.

It took those men years to
get that kind of success.

And what happens when
he doesn't make it, huh?

What's he gonna fall back on?

How's he gonna support himself?

You gonna take care of him?

Put a roof over his head,
clothes on his fucking back,

food on the table?

If art is so goddamn great,

why are you at a fucking
rundown rec center?

Exactly.

If I catch you at my
house or near my son again

outside that school,
your ass belongs to me.

- That's big talk from
a man who beats his kid

and pisses on his dreams.

(blow thuds)

(somber music)

I told you motherfucker not to
be messing with me, didn't I?

- Stop it.

- Get the fuck off me.

- He's just the school teacher.

Don't make a bigger scene
than you already have.

- I got this.

Look. Go in the house.

- Randall.

Don't hit him again.

- I'm not. Just get in the goddamn house.

(dog barks)

That is my son, not yours.

Mind your business, motherfucker.

(door slams)

(footsteps thud)

- Oh, my Lord.

No.

(birds chirp)

Mickey!

Hey.

(Mickey screams)

- Can't keep playin'.

Shut up, boy.

Teach you to kick me like that.

Shut up, boy! Shut up!

(belt thuds)

(Mickey screams)

- Randall! Randall!

- Get your fuckin' hands off me, wom-

- [Jackie] Stop it,
don't do this! (screams)

(Mickey screams)

(fists pound against door)
- Stop it!

(Mickey screams)

Randall!

Hey, oh, I love you. Look at you.

Everything's gonna get better, okay?

I want you to go to
school, have a good time.

Have a great day at school.

Give me a hug?

Bye! Have fun!

- Mickey!

Good morning.

- Morning, Mr. Pitt.

How are you?

- Another day.

Another one of you kids

getting in my you know what?

Same as always.

Say, you got a minute? Can
I speak to you in my office?

- Yeah, sure.

- Congratulations.

Winning first place in
the California Arts Fair.

Your work is phenomenal.

- Thank you, Mr. Pitt.

It was an amazing time being
able to showcase my drawings.

- Have you ever thought

about organizing your own art gallery?

If so, I can help you do it here for free.

Your work needs to be seen.

- That would be unbelievable.

I have some new drawings at
home that I just finished up.

I'd love to present.

- Let me ask you something.

Did you receive a letter in the mail

about two weeks ago

from the Art Institute of California?

- No.

If I did, my mom would've given it to me.

- Well, this would've been
the first, but most important.

The Art Institute out in Santa Monica

sent over another copy of the
letter they mailed to you.

I didn't open it.

Because I want you to be the first

to know what's in it.

(paper rustles)

Well, what does it say?

- They offer me an art grant

towards their animation
associate degree program.

- Congrats, Mickey.

You deserve every penny of it.

- Why didn't I get this sooner?

- I can't answer that for you.

You need to discuss this
issue with your family.

My job as your guidance counselor

is to guide you on your path to adulthood.

Entering that next phase in your life.

And this is that next phase.

And yet, it needed to be addressed.

- If the future stage is
anything like the current,

I won't live long enough
to see the rest of it.

- Well, a lot of the great ones don't,

but I'd like to believe

things will be different
this next time around.

- I'd like to win a million dollars,

but we don't always seem
to get what we want.

Thanks for the letter.

I'll talk to you later, Mr. Pitt.

- Mickey.

If you ever need
anything, anything at all,

I'm here for you.

I'm rooting for you.

- Thank you.

(pages rustle)

(water splashes)

(people chatter)

- (laughs) Look at this
bitch-ass nigga here.

Oh, my bad, my nigga, you good?

What the fuck you looking at, nigga?

You ain't gonna do shit.

You wanna hit me?

Well, just go on and do it,
so I can fuck your ass up.

Yeah.

Just like I thought.

Scary ass nigga.

You's a bitch.

(Mickey spits)

What the fuck is your problem, man?

The fuck is wrong with you?

(blows thud)

(bully grunts)

Now don't you ever do
no shit like that again.

(somber music)

- 200 channels and ain't
shit worth watching.

- [Commentator] Okay.

- Oh, shit, the game, sweet.

(game fanfare)

- Hold it, Ref.

Where he get you off from?

(crowd cheers)

You're late.

(can cracks open)

(crowd cheers)

You know you supposed
to be home before five.

Where the hell you been?

(sighs)
(game commentator yells)

Fuck happened to you?

- I got into a fight at school.

- By the looks of it, I can
tell you got your ass kicked.

- [Commentator] Picks up seven yards.

- Alright, where the boy live?

We'll go there and finish this shit.

- Did we get a letter
from the Art Institute

about two weeks ago?

- Yeah.

- Where is it, why you
didn't say something?

- I told you, you not going to
school for that art bullshit.

There's some papers for you on the table.

- I don't want a dead-end 9 to 5.

- Neither do I.

Life, on the other hand, don't
give a shit what you want.

And I agree.

You're 18. You're about
to finish high school.

Not a little boy anymore,
you're a grown ass man

and you need to take care of yourself.

'Cause your mom and I
damn sure not about to.

You think I'm killing
your dreams, don't you?

You're damn right I am.

Killing that shit before you go out there

and screw your life up.

- It's too late for that.

Just living here every
day got the job done.

- You better check that
motherfucking mouth, nigga,

before I check that shit for you.

You think you the only
one to ever have dreams?

Shit.

18, all I wanted was to be in the NFL.

(chuckles)

Bad ass running back, boy.

- [Commentator] One attempt is no good-

- Yeah, I was a motherfucking
goon out on that field.

- [Commentator] Score at Memorial, 26-14.

- All that went away when your
mama got pregnant with you.

I had no money.

Your grandmother, god rest
her soul, she did everything

she could, but it wasn't enough.

I couldn't rely on my daddy,
'cause I never knew the nigga.

So I had to face reality.

Give up my dreams for the family.

Regret the day I fucked your mama

each and every day of my life.

Nah nigga, dreams don't always come true.

Especially not that bullshit
you trying to become.

- That art bullshit
just got me a huge grant

that's gonna help for my tuition.

- Who the fuck you talking to?

- I'm talking to you.

I'm not afraid of you anymore.

I got a great thing going with my art,

and I'm not gon' let you
stand in the way of that.

Not no more.

I'm sorry things didn't work out for you.

Sorry, I'm not like you.

No.

I'm glad I'm nothing like you.

Shitting on somebody's dream
every day of their life.

Beating the fuck out of them

to make yourself feel more like a man.

- You better watch what the
fuck you say next, nigga.

For your safety, I pray
you think before you speak.

- Fuck you.

I love what I do.

And if that don't please you,
then that's too fucking bad!

Art makes me happy.

Allows me the freedom to dream.

To express myself and
showcase what's on my mind.

Any real father, whether
he liked it or not,

would accept that.

And encourage his child's talents.

The only thing you've ever done

is make me wish you were never here.

Black stereotype I could
actually live with.

(blow thuds)

- Motherfucker.

Fuck you think you're talking to, boy?

(blow thuds)
- Oh, sh- (groans)

(groans) Fuck.

(groans) Fuck.

Oh.

If you hit me with that
you better kill my ass.

(bat thuds)
(Randall yells)

(bat thuds)
(Randall yells)

You better not make me
get up, motherfucker.

- Stop!

(crowd cheers)

(Randall groans)

Give me the bat.

Mickey, give me the bat.

(bat clatters)
(Randall groans)

Randall, are you okay?

(Randall groans)
- Oh, help me up.

- What the hell's going on?
- [Randall] Help me up.

- [Mickey] He sucker
punched me in the face,

I was just defending myself.

(Randall groans)

Not taking no more of his shit.

(Randall groans)

- Randall, why did you hit him?

(Randall groans)

Why did he hit you, what happened?

- [Mickey] This.

The Art Institute sent this in the mail

and he threw it away on purpose.

It's for an art grant to
help pay for my tuition.

- Randall, why would you do
some stupid shit like that?

I mean, I know you don't
appreciate his work

like the rest of us.

- He's just a waste of flesh.

Yeah, I said it.

You ain't nothin' but
another disappointment.

- Shut up, Randall.

- We should've aborted his
ass when we had the chance.

- Shut up, Randall.

Why would you even say
some shit like that?

Ah, baby look, he didn't mean that.

- [Mickey] He did,
because he want everybody

to be miserable like his ass.

- Now look, you need to watch

the way you talk to your father, okay?

- [Mickey] What?
- Yes.

- [Mickey] To hell with him.

I'm sick of the way he treats us.

Treats you.

He got what he was asking for.

Fuck him.

- Hey!

(slap thuds)

Look, he is your father, okay?

Without him, there is no you.

He's raised you, he fed
you, he took care of you,

both of us!

What's wrong with you?

(sighs)

- Ay.

When you walk out that door,
don't bring your ass back.

When you gone, stay gone.

- Baby, don't listen to any of that, okay?

He did not mean that, this is your home.

This will always be your home.

- Shut the fuck up.

I want your pussy ass
out my house. (groans)

I don't need either one of you.

You never had my back before,

when he was beating my
ass all those years.

So why should I expect
anything different now?

- It's not like that.

- I got another place to stay.

You don't need to look for me.

- Where are you-

- Fuck him!

- Mickey, don't.

Randall, he's leaving.

- [Randall] Get the fuck out!

- Stop it! Mickey, please!

Mickey!

(Randall groans)

(Jackie sighs)

(door slams)

(bat clatters)

- I always said that if I had kids,

I would shower them with
the love and affection

they deserve, instead
of the torture I got.

- Yeah, seems like your
father was more concerned

with you being what he
feels is being realistic

than to see you for who you really are.

- He just wanted shit done his way.

He couldn't control the world.

But he could control the
world within his house.

- Mickey, I don't know your father.

But I feel the reason
why he reacts this way,

it's because it's the manner

in which he was raised to believe.

Now, I'm not saying that his
technique is right or wrong.

(sighs)

It's just that we all have a
right to believe what we want.

- Technique?

Beating and belittling your child

is considered a technique?

- When it's passed down from
generation to generation,

yeah, it's a technique.

Mickey, I believe your father treated you

the way that he was raised

because that's all he was accustomed to.

This consistent cycle of abuse

that was never broken.

Instead, it was drilled into
him at such an early age

that this is the only
way they feel capable

of showing discipline.

It felt like love.

You're not the only person who has dealt

with this type of lifestyle, Mickey.

I know about it firsthand myself.

- Your father beat on you?

- I'd be lying to you if
I said otherwise, Mickey.

(glasses clatter)

My father was just as irritable as yours.

Old-fashioned, stuck in his ways.

Refusing to adjust to modern times.

Yeah, that's my father.

I remember the first time I told my father

I wanted to be a psychiatrist.

That was a bad decision.

Well, not that I told him I
wanted to be a psychiatrist.

But when I told him,

it was on a Friday night

after one of his late night
drinking binges at the bar.

Let that be a lesson to you

to never tell someone important
news when they're not sober.

(Mickey laughs)

- I can do that.

(clock ticks)

- You know, in high school,
I was always the guy

that people came to for advice.

And I thought I was okay at giving it.

My father disapproved.

He said I would be wasting my life.

We argued 'til the cows
come home that night.

And, out of the blue, he hit me.

Over and over.

Told me I wasn't worth a damn.

It broke me up that he
felt that way about me.

(clock ticks)

- How did you get over it?

- I stood my ground.

I didn't change my mind about
what I wanted out of my life.

And that burned him up,

so much so that he stopped speaking to me.

Mickey, every boy needs his father.

But at what cost?

I got my degree, with the medical school.

Then I started working as
an assistant for Dr. Albert.

My mentor.

And that paved the way for me
to open up my own practice.

(clock ticks)

And even when he wasn't speaking to me,

he saw the progress.

And eventually, he uh,
came around and apologized.

Admitted that he was wrong.

Yeah.

We talk more than ever now.

That's my guy.

- Sounds like the story of my life,

the first half at least.

- Mickey, I don't know your father,

but I have a feeling he'll come around.

It may not be today,
it may not be tomorrow.

Hell, it may be 30, 40 years from now.

I have no idea.

But what I do know is,

if you truly love what you do,

and you're successful at it?

Shit, he'll come around.

He'll come around.

(clock ticks)

But it appears that our
session is coming to an end.

But I'd love to pick it up
next week if you'd like.

Same time?

- Yeah, I would as well.

I'll see you next week, for sure.

- Alright. Um, see you next week.

So, let's, uh, start with the art career.

How long ago did you get fired?

- Last week.

- Last week?

- Yep. Losing your job is one thing.

But your dream?

(scoffs) It's liable
to drive a man insane.

Then drink.

- You've been drinking?

- Anything I can get my hands on.

Liquor might not be the
correct problem solver,

but it does wonders
making the pain go away.

It's the only reliable thing I have left.

- Mickey, you're gonna
have to find other outlets

to channel that anger.

Liquor's not gonna help
cure your situation.

It's only gonna enhance it.

- Let it enhance. This is my life.

- So how'd you get fired from your job?

What was the root cause of it?

- I was working for Firefight Press.

I was one of the top animators,

who drew comics for the Sunday paper.

- You know, I knew your
name sounded familiar to me.

I read the Fire Press all
the time, I love the comics.

You did the uh "Ben and
Chips" series, didn't you?

- That was me.

- [Dr. Harden] Oh my god,
yeah, I loved that strip.

- Well, it's not mine anymore.

Everything was really
stressful, from the start,

before I even got the gig.

I was working a full time job

just to match the grant
funds and student loans.

Just to get my degree.

Then I had to work two jobs
to pay off my student loans.

I was broke.

And living in a broken down motel.

- A motel?

- I couldn't go back home.
Didn't want to go back.

Anything was better than that.

I haven't talked to my
family since the day I left.

I ended up getting the Firefight Press gig

through an old friend.

- [Mr. Sweeney] Mickey, over here.

What's up, man?

- Mr. Sweeney?

- [Mr. Sweeney] Yeah.

- How you doing? What you doing out here?

- I'm doing great, man.

I volunteer at the homeless
shelter around here.

Couple of days out of the week.

What are you doing down here?

- I live around here.

- Can I give you a ride somewhere?

- Yeah.

- Get in.

(door unlocks)

(door slams)

Hey, bro, man, I ain't seen you

since you was like that, man.

(Mickey laughs)

- Yeah.

- You're still drawing
and everything, right?

- Yeah, hell yeah.

I stay at the motel down the street.

(car engine rumbles)

(neon sign buzzes)

(light clicks)

- It's good to see you, Mickey. (laughs)

It's weird to see you all
grown up and everything.

It's been a, it's been a while.

- It's great to see you
too, it's been a long time.

- Yeah, it has.

Look, I don't mean to be rude.

Can I ask you, what happened?

- Believe me, it's not rude to ask.

After I left home for good,

I had to pay all of my
college tuition by myself.

- All by yourself?

My god.

Are you still paying on it?

- Unfortunately. I'm still
making payments as we speak.

I didn't have anybody else to lean on,

so I took the last of my prize money

that I won at the
California Art Competition.

Ended up here.

- I'm sorry to hear that.

- A degree in art. And nothing
to show for it but failure.

- That's not true.

You never know where your
destination might lead you to,

or maybe you haven't found it yet.

You just don't know.

Sometimes your dreams
take time to manifest.

But you gotta stick with it,

you can't give up on it,

I promise you.

- I'd like to believe you,

but it seems like things
don't pan out too well for me.

I don't have a lot of money left.

I'm 'bout to be living
on the fucking streets.

This isn't what I had in mind for my life.

I've done everything the right way.

I've never did anything wrong to anybody.

Why does life continue to suffocate me?

- I don't know.

I don't have the answers, I'm not God.

- Fuck God.

- Ayo, don't you ever say that.

Don't you ever disrespect the Lord.

- What has he done for me?

What has he done that's worth worshipping

and appreciating him?

I'm not perfect, and I'm
not asking for a lot,

just a chance to blossom and live.

(sighs)

He ain't done shit for me, man.

(sighs)

(sobs)

(sniffs)

(sobs)

- Mickey.

I don't know what it's
like to be in your shoes.

And honestly, I never wanna find out.

All I can say is,

I am going to help you.

And I know you might
think I'm full of shit,

and you have every right to believe that.

I'mma do everything I can to
get you back on your feet.

Everybody deserves a
chance, especially you.

So, I met the head writer
at the Firefight Press

a few months ago.

Good guy.

His name is Nathan.

I can't promise you anything and I won't.

But I'm sure Nathan will
give you a job and hire you.

And if that doesn't work out,

I'll put in a good word
for you at the rec center.

I'm gonna do everything in my power

to get you back on your feet.

Trust me.

(mellow hip-hop beat)

♪ Them niggas trying to take my soul ♪

♪ Them niggas trying to take my soul ♪

♪ But still I keep that pen near the pad ♪

♪ And move with the struggle ♪

♪ When your lights get dim ♪

♪ Will them niggas still love you ♪

♪ When your money is slim ♪

♪ Will the bitches still fuck you ♪

(door clicks)

(lively piano music)

- Hello? Anybody here?

- Sit down.

Take a seat.

I had a chance to review
your work a week ago.

I won't blow smoke up your ass.

It was good.

It was damn good.

- Thank you, sir.

- Fresh, smart, funny, bold.

It was different from anything
I've ever been a part of.

I'd like to publish your work.

Have your work seen in papers
all across Los Angeles.

- That sounds like an unbelievable
offer. WHat's the catch?

- No catch.

Your work is just phenomenal,
it needs to be showcased.

And if you're interested,

I'd like to talk to you

about an animated project
I'm putting together.

- I'm flattered, but to be honest,

I'm only interested in
having my work in the papers.

Nothing more.

If that's a dealbreaker, I understand.

I just don't want to work
on anybody else's work.

No disrespect.

- None taken. It's not a dealbreaker.

Although I'd wish you'd reconsider.

I could use a great
animator like yourself.

I know doing cartoon
strips isn't what you want.

You're looking to make it to the top.

Seth McFarlane, Matt Stone.

Trey Parker.

That's the level you wanna be,
that's where you need to be.

Give me a chance, I can make that happen.

- You just met me.

You know nothing about me

and you want me to work on your project?

Ah, this just doesn't feel right.

(chair creaks)

- I know it doesn't.

If I were in your position,
I'd probably feel the same way.

But your work

has my respect and admiration.

And if you give me an hour of your time,

I promise you, you won't regret it.

(lively piano music)

I was given $200,000 to make
an adult animated series

from this new television network,

but it just feels like another
ripoff of "The Simpsons",

"Family Guy."

Same storyline, dad, mom, three kids.

I need something fresh and creative.

Just looking at your work,

you have ideas for days.

This "Ben and Chip" series is amazing.

That animated series about two friends

sitting in the strip club
in the heart of South Beach.

That's a million dollar
project from a million dollar,

sorry, soon to be million dollar animator.

- You really think my work is that good?

- I wouldn't be here with you

if I didn't think it had promise.

This is your baby.

I don't just want to have it in papers.

It's much bigger and better

than stuff that gets
printed in some newsprint.

I want us to be partners.

Let's do something special with this.

I'll handle the business.

I want you to be head animator.

I'll still be in charge of production,

hiring comedy writers and other animators

to help you bring this story to life.

It's a gamble.

There's a good chance
this won't go anywhere,

but I'm willing to take that chance

if you are.

- You're smooth.

You are smooth, I'll give you that.

You almost had me.

I thank you for having such
a love affair with my work.

It's a great feeling having
someone feel that way.

But I'm gonna pass on the offer.

I mean, you bring me here.

Never set eyes on me a day in your life,

giving up on your project,
showing me my own work,

pitching me on how it's
gonna make us famous,

make a lot of money and you'll
handle the business side,

blah, blah, blah.

I don't care about any of that.

I just love being an animator.

I want to get my work out
to the public, I won't lie.

And yes, I would love to
make a series of this strip,

but I want to do it with my own money,

with my own team of writers and animators

that I personally select.

That's just the way I feel about it.

If you're looking for stories,

I know plenty of other animators

who would give their left
nut to work with you.

It's just not gonna happen with me.

- You should be smart
enough to know a good thing

when it's in front of you.

- I am. The comic strip.

That's the best thing

that could have happened
to me in a long time.

With all the shit I've been through.

That's the only thing I need.

I'd love for Firefight
to release my strip,

but not at a cost where
it's gonna demolish my soul.

This world has already
taken everything from me,

but my soul isn't for sale.

It can't be bought, stolen, or given away.

Money will always be
the root of existence.

And it's an evil I can withstand.

- Seeing I can't win you
over with my charm or money,

I'd still like to release your work.

One of these days, I have a feeling

we'll be celebrating together,

getting a project on television.

At least one of us might be.

I may have just met you, Mickey,

but you're one of a kind.

Nobody I've ever encountered

comes close to your personality.

It's rare.

It's a pain in the ass, but it's rare.

You can't imagine how many people

would've sold their principles

for the mighty greenback.

This little bitty piece of paper

is more powerful, popular, and dangerous,

than anything known to man.

You passed it up

for your morals.

That's commendable.

Wish I had your willpower, but I don't.

Money makes the world go around,
and I want a piece of it.

No matter the cost.

(paper rustles)

Once you sign on the dotted line,

Firefight will begin
syndication of "Ben and Chip."

All of Los Angeles will
know who Mickey Hardaway is

once you sign.

(lively piano music)

Welcome to the Firefight family.

- I'll be right back.

I'm gonna use the restroom.

(music continues)

(paper rustles)

- Hey, uh, Mickey, I
have to get out of here.

I have another meeting to get to,

but I'll be in touch with
the rest of paperwork

and when we'll release your work.

- Okay, cool.

Thanks again for taking a chance on me.

It means the world to me.

- Believe me, I thank you.

- My strip was seen by
thousands across the city.

Not the greatest
accomplishment in the world,

but just walking down the street,

seeing people reading the paper,

looking at my work was joyful.

- That's always great

when it's something you
adore with your art.

That's the difference
between a career and a job.

- Yes, it is.

Finally becoming a working cartoonist

gave me a new lease on life.

It gave me a real reason to
create without a heartache,

but the career wasn't paying enough.

I still needed a job on
the side to make ends meet.

So I took the art director's
job at the rec center downtown.

- Well, it's not what you wanted,

but you do what you have to do, right?

- Yep.

But at that point, it didn't matter.

I was finally starting to
live the dream, the right way.

There was still hard times, of course.

- [Dr. Harden] Of course.

- The only great thing
about it was meeting Grace.

- I'm assuming that's the young lady

you're involved with, right?

- Right.

Grace is wonderful.

She's the one.

She's sweet, caring, funny, and
supportive of my art career.

She's working on getting

her master's degree in philosophy at UCLA.

Grace is brilliant.

She's probably the smartest person I know,

and don't know shit about sports,

but I still let her watch with me.

- Naturally. (Mickey laughs)

- I met Grace for the first
time about a year ago.

It was an interesting encounter.

(car engine rumbles)

That shit is so dope.

- If you love that phone so much,

why don't you put a ring on it?

- If it were legal, I just might.

Hi, my name is Mickey.

- Hey, my name is Grace.

You sure don't look like a Mickey.

- I don't?

- No, more like Jamal, LaMarcus, Jerome,

somewhere around there.

- Racial profiling at it's finest.

- Mm-hmm.

How'd you get the name Mickey, anyway?

I can't help but feel a cartoon mouse

becomes a prime suspect at the moment.

- My mama had a dog named Mickey.

From what I was told,

when she was about six or seven years old,

she went fishing with my grandpa.

She saw a fish swimming
around in the water

and tried to grab it.

Accidentally fell into the water.

- Oh my God.

- My mama didn't know how to swim.

She still can't swim to save her life.

Mickey jumped in the water,

wrapped his teeth around her hair,

and paddled back to the boat.

Grandpa helped them both back in.

She loved that dog.

My mama named me Mickey after her dog.

- Mm.

Well, as corny as that name is,

that story gives me more
insight into the man.

- Hopefully not too much.

So if you don't mind me asking,

what brings you out here
so early in the morning?

- Well, since you asked so kindly,

I'm gonna take the nine o'clock
art class at the rec center.

- Seriously? Me too.

- Great minds really do
think alike, don't they?

- You ain't lying about that. (laughs)

Those are the greatest minds to be around.

- Well, I'll see ya.

- Later.

I apologize.

I probably should have mentioned,

you're gonna be learning

from a great artist this morning.

- Hey, this is amazing.

- Yeah?

- You, you could like teach me?

- I can.

(bright jazzy music)

(bright jazzy music continues)

(bright jazzy music continues)

(Grace laughs)

(Mickey laughs)

- (laughs) Oh my god.

- You enjoy yourself?

- Mm, I came back here with you, didn't I?

I think that answers your question.

- You, uh, want something to drink?

- No, thank you.

Why do you drink so much, Mickey?

- What do you mean?

- You always have a beer or Hennessy

when we're out or in there, why is that?

- My father.

My father always drank.

Believe it or not, he would
let us drink with him.

I love it.

It's an addiction, not a healthy one.

But it helps,

especially when I'm hurting or nervous.

- Do I make you nervous, Mickey?

- You make me feel a lot of things.

But nervous isn't on the radar.

- The only reason I ask is
when I try to get close to you,

you push me away,

and not sounding cocky,

but I know I look pretty damn good.

- You're beautiful.

Not a day goes by that I think otherwise.

- Then what's wrong?

I mean, we've been seeing each other

for three months now and I can't lie,

when I'm with you, I feel alive.

Like nothing can faze me or ruin my mood.

You make me better.

Make me wanna do better in life.

(can clinks)

I've dated a few men and,

believe me when I tell you,

you're special,

you don't treat me like I'm
an object to smash or pass.

You care about me.

I can sense it.

I can feel it.

That's love beating inside of you.

- It is.

You have no idea how much it is.

I'm new to all of this.

I wasn't the most popular guy.

Never been great with women.

I've never had a girlfriend before.

I've never made love before.

I don't mean to make excuses.

I want to be the man you desire.

I just don't know how.

I don't know how to love.

I can't fake it.

You deserve way better than me.

I'm, I'm not a great liar.

I only know how to tell the
truth and the truth hurts,

but it can save you from the
wreckage only a lie can cause

coming from someone you care about.

- Yes, the truth hurts
if you can't handle it.

And the last time I
checked, I'm a grown woman,

not a little girl.

And you are a grown man.

Still holds the baggage from his past,

that little boy who never felt loved.

Neither does the man.

I love you, but I can't love
you more if you won't let me.

(lips smack)

(pencil scratches)

- Good morning.

(Grace laughs)

I hope I didn't wake you.

- You didn't.

But thank you for putting
me to sleep last night.

- My pleasure.

- Your artwork gets better
every time I see it.

It demonstrates both pain and gracefulness

in every sketch.

- I draw what I feel.

Usually, it's negative energy.

I can't say how I feel with
words, so this is my substitute.

- Is this how you escape
the outside world?

- It's the only world I know.

It, it's a fantasy that excites me.

None of this bullshit I'm
dealing with on the daily exists.

It consistently puts a smile on my face,

keeping my mind off this
cesspool we call society.

- Yeah.

It's a creative outlet,

one that I think you should
share more with the world.

You should really consider
doing your own art gallery

to get more exposure.

You're so much more than a cartoonist.

- [Mickey] No, I'm not.

- Yes, you are.

Trust me. You are. (laughs)

I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it.

One thing I won't do is build you up

if I don't believe in you,

that's a waste of both of our time.

- You really think hosting
a gallery of my own work

is a good idea?

- I know it is, okay, like?

I can help you put the
whole thing together.

Matter of fact,

I think my stepdad and his associates

might find your work interesting.

They might even consider sponsoring you.

- Gimme a few days to think it over?

- Take as much time as you need.

When you're ready,

I'm ready.

(laughs)

(lips smack)

- Mickey, I hate to cut you off,

but we'll have to end today's session.

We can pick it back up again next week.

- Please, Dr. Harden. I just
need a few more minutes.

- Unfortunately, I can't, Mickey,

I have another patient to tend to,

but we'll pick it back
up again next week, okay?

- How much time you got?

I still have some things I need to discuss

and get off my chest.

I really need you to listen to me.

- And I really need you to know

we'll pick it back up again next week.

(clock ticks)

(water sprays)

(clock ticks)

Hi, Mickey.

How you doing?

Is everything alright?

Anything you wanna share with me?

- Well, that depends.

Are you a whiskey man?

If so, I don't mind sharing.

- Mickey, you know you
can't bring that in here.

It's a place of healing, not a dive bar.

- I have to disagree
with your diagnosis, doc.

And there's this warm feeling inside of me

telling me it's healing me just fine.

- Drinking is not gonna
cure what ails you.

Now, under these conditions,

I can't and I won't discuss
your issues with you.

You can come back here

when you're in a better
frame of mind and see me.

- Dr. Harden.

I'm not drunk.

I'm a little buzzed, but not drunk.

I agree.

The alcohol won't fix me,

but I don't know what else to do.

You all I got.

I need you.

I need your help.

(door closes)

- How's the job search going?

- It's been rough.

In the last week, I've been to
several studios with my work,

but I'm basically being blackballed.

No matter how much they like my work,

after they read the report
Mr. Hammerson wrote,

they go into to retreat mode.

- I know you lost your job,
Mickey, but I don't know why.

Why were you fired, Mickey?

(phone vibrates)

- Hello?

Yes, this is Mickey's cellphone.

He's in the restroom at the moment.

May I ask who's calling?

Oh, okay.

Just one second.

Hey, Mickey?

Someone's on the phone for
you. They said it's important.

Um, someone named Mr. Sweeney?

- [Mickey] Gimme a second.

- One second.

- Mr. Sweeney, how are you?

What?

This motherfucker!

- [Grace] Mickey!

- Yeah.

I told my team they're on it right now.

I appreciate it very much.

Yeah. Okay.

Thank you very much.
We'll talk to you later.

How's it coming now?

R&R when this is over.

Appreciate it so much. Thank you.

What the hell, Mickey?

What do you think you're doing,

coming into my office like this?

- You stole my work, you son of a bitch.

You took my drawings and
sold them as your own.

- I didn't do anything.

You gotta believe me,

let's sit down and talk
this whole thing over.

- Fuck talking.

The "Hurricane Clan" was my creation.

You just changed the
facial features and names

and sold it without my permission,

you fucking snake.

- [Mr. Hammerson] You can't prove that.

- [Employee] You okay?

- Yeah. Thanks.

I didn't take your shit.

Now, if you're smart,

you'll calm the fuck down and go home

and I'll forget this
whole thing ever happened.

Especially if you still
want your little sketches

seen in the papers.

- I don't need you.

My work will be sold to other companies.

- Sure of that?

Do you have any idea who the
fuck you're dealing with?

All I gotta do is pick up the phone

and make one call putting
the word out about you

and you're finished.

Just like that.

I've done it before.

Don't think you're any
better than the rest of them,

'cause you're not.

- This ain't over.

I'mma sue your ass.

You won't get away with this
shit. I promise you that.

- Good luck affording those legal fees.

I'll be waiting. (laughs)

- Motherfucker.

(blow thuds)
(Mr. Hammerson wails)

(footsteps thud)
(Mr. Hammerson groans)

(keys jangle)

- How much more of this bullshit
do you have to deal with?

How much longer are you
gonna allow this to carry on?

Nothing good ever
happens or lasts for you.

This is your life,

'til there's nothing left.

(keys jangle)

(door clatters)

- Hardaway.

Your bail's been posted,
you're free to go.

I'm not standing here for my health.

Let's go. Come on.

Yeah, I've seen that face before.

You've had a rough time.

I get it. We've all been there.

But you can't fix your
problems with fighting.

And damned sure not behind bars, man.

Look, your girlfriend's
waiting for you downstairs.

Go home and stay outta trouble.

Seriously.

Now let's go.

Let's go!

Get up. Let's go.

Now!

(door clatters)

(door slams)

(keys jangle)

(clock ticks)

- What did your lawyer say

when you saw him about your situation?

- He told me the truth.

I didn't have a case,

at least one that would work in my favor,

or at the very most, reach a settlement.

The drawing that Mr.
Hammerson stole from me

was one I did in ninth grade.

It was the only one in my work
I forgot to sign my name to.

I was just playing around with it.

It was never meant to go any
further than that drawing.

The retainer fee wouldn't
have been a problem.

But when you can't even
do the common sense thing,

like sign your name to your
work, you fuck yourself.

(sighs)

- Are you okay?

- Nah.

I'm pretty fucking far from okay.

I'm so goddamn sick of people.

(drink clinks)

- You don't mean that, you're just upset.

I understand.

- No, you don't.

I'm sick and tired of everything.

I know life isn't perfect.

It's gonna push you to the limits.

But, fuck.

Nobody deserves to go through this much.

That bastard stole my work,

and there ain't a damn
thing I can do about it.

- He's pressing charges
against you for attacking him.

- At this point, I don't
give a fuck about that.

That's the only thing

that made sitting in
that damn cell worth it.

- This is a serious situation, Mickey!

You could be looking
at jail time for this!

(sighs)

I'm sorry about your artwork.

You know if I could,

I would get it back
for you in a heartbeat.

You can't just go barging

into someone's office attacking them.

Life's a bitch sometimes.

You have to have a short memory.

You're just having a bad day.

Tomorrow will be better and
I'll be right by your side.

- Last thing I need is
somebody by my side.

I don't trust nobody.

No-fucking-body.

- You don't trust nobody?

- Nobody.

(Grace sighs)

Look, I'm sorry, alright?

- [Grace] No, you're not.

You meant what you said.

- Grace, I didn't...

- [Grace] Bye, Mickey.

- I haven't seen her since,

and she won't answer my calls,
text messages, anything.

I just want her to know
that I'm thinking about her,

that I miss her, that I need her.

I didn't mean what I said.

- You know, Mickey, I can't
fault her for leaving.

Your behavior was reprehensible.

Did you ever think to yourself

that your actions were uncalled for?

Because they were.

I recommend the best way you
show how you really feel.

Go see her.

Be honest with Grace.

Apologize for your actions.

She may be angry.

Hell, she might be upset
with you for a while,

but from everything that
you told me about her,

leads me to believe that
she'll more than understand.

And give you a second chance.

(clock ticks)

I hate to do this, but we
need to end today's session.

Mickey, our time is up.

- Time's up?

No, no, no.

I need more time. Just a little more.

Don't shut me out again.

- Look, I can't, okay.

I have another patient coming in,

but we can schedule another
appointment next week

if you'd like, Mickey.

- You can't just leave me like this.

I finally got all of
this shit off my chest.

And now, now when I need
you most, you bail on me?

- Look. I'm sorry, alright?

It's not done intentionally.

I have another patient coming in,

and you know we can always-

- Man, fuck them!

- You got a patient right in front of you

that's going through some shit

and you're doing nothing to help him.

You no different.

You just like the rest of them.

- Mickey, please control
yourself, alright?

There's no need for this!

- World renowned, my ass.

(door closes)

(clock ticks)

(Dr. Harden sighs)

- Literally, the kid just snapped

when I told him we had
to end today's session,

stormed right outta the office.

- Did you try calming him down?

- I tried,

but I've never experienced
anything like that

with a patient before.

- Oh my God, baby.

So sorry you had to go through that. Okay?

He clearly has some
issues we didn't expect.

- Yeah, I have to blame myself.

Could have done more.

Should have done more.

It's gonna stay with me for a long time.

- No, you can't beat
yourself up over this.

Okay?

Some people take longer
to reach and that's fine.

We just might have to bring
in some extra help on it.

Okay?

We got it.

- Yeah.

Yeah.
- Okay.

Let's go.

(somber music)

(music swells)

- The fuck you looking at?

Who the fuck you talking to you?

I know you weren't talking to me.

Punk motherfucker.

(blow thuds)

Fuck!

(head bangs)

(sniffs)

(somber music)

(gun clicks)

- This little piece of paper

is more dangerous,

more popular,

more powerful than
anything known than man.

You passed it up

for your morals.

- That's why I'm here, to
support you in your time of need

and hopefully after healing.

- Regret the day I fucked your mama

each and every day of my life.

(door slams)

(door clicks)

- No, please. Please.

Hey, hey. Hey.

Please! Please, please.

(Mr. Hammerson yells)

(body thuds)

(somber music)

(gun fires)

(somber music)

- [Newsreader 1] And now,
our top story this evening,

Nathan Hammerson,

editor-in-chief of the local
newsprint, Firefight Press,

was found on location in
downtown Los Angeles, murdered.

The video camera footage

showed him being strangled
by an African-American man

in his twenties around 9:00 PM.

The young man is considered
armed and dangerous

and was last seen headed
towards 6th and Grand.

Additional information on the
suspect will be made available

by the Los Angeles Police Department

at their earliest convenience.

- [Newsreader 2] Our
top story this evening,

Nathan Hammerson, chief editor

of the local newsprint, Firefight Press,

was found murdered in a
downtown Los Angeles location.

The video camera footage shows him

being strangled by an African-American man

in his mid twenties around 9:00 PM.

The man is considered armed and dangerous.

He was last seen fleeing the scene,

headed towards 6th and Grand.

Additional information on the
suspect will be made available

by the Los Angeles Police Department

at their earliest convenience.

- [Newsreader 3] Tonight,
Los Angeles police

are investigating two homicides,

one in Beverly Hills

and the other in the
downtown Los Angeles area.

The suspect is believed to be a Black male

in his mid twenties.

The LAPD is linking this
suspect to both murders.

We'll continue to bring you
details as this story unfolds.

- [Newsreader 4] Our
top story this evening,

renowned psychiatrist Dr. Cameron Harden

was found murdered in his
downtown Los Angeles penthouse.

Neighbors report that three
shots were fired around 9:45 PM.

Video camera footage outside of his home

showed an African-American
man in his mid twenties

leaving the hallway with
what appears to be a gun.

The young man is considered
armed and dangerous.

- Mickey?

(fist pounds)

- [Mr. Sweeney] Excuse me, miss,
I don't mean to bother you.

Is, is Mickey here?

- No, he's not.

- (sighs) That's what I was afraid of.

- I'm sorry, but who are you?

- [Mr. Sweeney] Oh, I, I'm Joseph Sweeney,

his former art teacher.

- Oh yes, Mr. Sweeney.

I'm Grace, Mickey's girlfriend.

He talks so much about you.

- Oh, it's a pleasure meeting you, Grace.

I wish it was under better circumstances.

- [Grace] You saw the
news tonight as well?

- One time I wish my television
wasn't on in my home.

(sighs)

I just had to come see it for myself.

You know, I hoped and prayed
that this wasn't true,

but it seems like our worst
fears have come to fruition.

- Based on the drawings, I know it has.

- I just wish I knew where he was

so I could get him outta trouble.

Do you know who that is?

- Unfortunately.

- Wait, who is that?

- I think I know where he's heading.

(door slams)

Come on!

(door clicks)

(somber jazz music)

(car engine rumbles)

(door creaks)

(fridge clicks)

(keys jangle)

(door bangs)

(gun clicks)

- Shit!

- What's going on? Randall!

- My house, try to kill me, motherfucker.

(shotgun fires)

- [Jackie] 911, emergency.
There's someone in our house.

My husband has a gun,
he's shooting someone.

I need a-

- Shut the fuck up!

(tense jazzy music)

You picked the wrong one, boy.

Fucking show your ass!

(gun clicks)

(gun fires)

(Jackie screams)

- [Jackie] No!

Oh my god! (screams)

Mickey, you stop it.

Mickey, no, no!

(gun fires)

(car engine rumbles)

- Grace!

Be careful!

- 1135- (indistinct)

(police sirens wail)

- Can you hear me?

- [Jackie] No, it was my son.

No, he doesn't live here.

- [Grace] It's Grace.

- [Jackie] He shot him- (sobs)

- Mickey.

We can figure this out,
we can talk, Mickey.

- [Jackie] No, he left.

No, I don't know where
he went, he went outside.

Ambulance, please.

No, my son is five seven

and he's, he's not very small.

He has short hair.

Why are you asking me?

- We need to get out of here.

- [Jackie] My husband's dead!

- We will exist. Figure it out.

(Jackie indistinctly wails)

- Hands over your head.

(gun fires)

- [Grace] Mickey!

Mickey!

Please! No, please!

Please!

(Jackie wails)

- Ma'am. Get away from him.

Now.

- [Grace] Mickey! (sobs)

- Let's go.

- [Mr. Sweeney] Why are you detaining her?

- Because she was witness to a murder.

I have to bring her in for questioning.

- Grace, you okay?

- She's fine.

Always the hardest part of the job, man.

Another kid killed.

Never got a chance to live.

See his whole potential.

- No one ever does.

With all the circumstances
he had to deal with,

how can you expect him to
live to his full potential?

- What do you mean?

- That kid went through hell.

- Physical, mental, verbal abuse.

Neglect, professionally and personally.

That's the reason for his downfall,

that's the reason for
this whole craziness.

- That's still not an excuse for murder.

- I agree, wholeheartedly.

But when you feel like the world

don't give a damn about you,

you feel like you have nothing to lose.

Even when you have a glimmer
of hope to latch onto.

See, life has a funny way

of giving you more
hopelessness than exuberance.

(dogs bark)

It's hard to be good when
all you know is evil.

- The world's tough
enough with a reason, man.

Sometimes gonna throw you a curve.

You just gotta shake
it off and keep moving.

- Shake it off?

Is that what you cops do when
you kill unarmed Black men?

Shake it off?

I wonder if that works
for all the mass murderers

throughout the years?

I'm pretty sure there's somebody out there

that could've stopped him,

that could've helped him.

Or they'd tell him the same
bullshit you're feeding me.

Shake it off?

Fuck out of here.

Grace, if you need me, call.

(door clicks)

(sighs)

- [Grace] Dear society,

if you refuse to embrace me,

all I ask is that you don't demolish me.

(somber music)

(music continues)

(music continues)

(music continues)