Original subtitles

REPORTER: Detroit is still haunted

by the 1995 disappearance of six-year-old Deonte Brooks.

The first grader vanished from the Northview Mall

without a trace.

No suspects, no leads. Simply gone.

WOMAN: [on TV] Deonte is a good boy and we love him so much.

[sighs] I know my baby is still out there.

If you have any information about where he is,

please call the police.

And whoever has him, please bring him back home.

We miss him.

* *

DIARRA: Confession.

I never should have gone looking for that boy.

Shit. Life is full of unsolved mysteries.

And as I once heard this guy in the post office say,

"Minding your own business is a full time motherfucking job

and everybody needs to stay employed."

[pants]

But I had to get to the bottom of this one,

even if it killed me.

* *

And it just might.

* *

So when this shit first started, I was not in my right mind.

* *

I was heartbroken.

And the only mystery I was trying to solve was

how the hell did I get here?

* *

My anxiety had me micro-sleeping.

Ten minutes here, 15 there.

I hadn't had my eight hours in months.

It was torture.

[bang]

And my insomnia must have turned me into a white woman

from a horror movie,

'cause I was up in the middle of the night,

without a pistol, investigating a noise.

[suspenseful music]

* *

Don't even try it.

Face the wall and put your bitch-ass hands up.

DIARRA: I had just moved back to Detroit,

and I was already getting robbed.

Please, don't hurt me.

But if you are gonna kill me, can I please take off

my headscarf so I won't be looking like Harriet Tubman

in the crime scene photos?

I'm only gonna tell you once. Shut the fuck up.

[coughs, clears throat]

Wow.

Danger? Danger Johnson?

Diarra? Oh, shit.

You back on the block. What up, though?

Are you fucking kidding me right now...?

They say Detroit is nothing but a small town

masquerading as a big city.

Everybody knows everybody, for better or worse.

Hey, look, my bad. I know this disrespectful as hell.

But, hey, I ain't know your mama still own this house. She here?

She's in Florida with her boyfriend

- and she's a snowbird. - Goddamn. All right.

Shit. You ain't gotta be mad. Bone, get in here.

This is my stepson, Bone. Diarra.

Sorry, ma'am. I thought you was one of them gentrifiers.

Bone, you too impatient when you casing.

Let this be a lesson. Tell him, D.

- I'm not telling him shit. - Tell him where you from.

[theme music playing]

And it gets better. So I said, "What are you talking about?"

And he says, "You know what I'm talking about."

And I said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

And then this nigga asked me what I thought

about an open marriage.

[laughs] Hell, no.

So I said, how do you feel about a closed casket?

And that was it. I moved out.

I haven't spoken to him in three months.

Um...

DIARRA: You ever had two burglars stare at you with pity?

I gotta tell you, it's a bad feeling.

You going through a lot, D. You should talk to my therapist.

I'm sorry. Why would I go to a therapist

who hasn't convinced you to stop robbing houses?

She wanna get paid. Don't she?

She sounds unlicensed.

Pride is for lions, Dee.

You gonna need something to help you through the divorce.

I'm just saying.

DIARRA: And that was the first time

anyone had actually said it.

The D word.

* *

Looking good, Norm.

* *

Of course you get a divorce, D.

Look, I've been tap dancing around it so much, I feel

like the Nicholas Brothers in "Stormy Weather."

Tea, that is honestly the gayest shit you have ever said.

I limit myself to three gay things a week.

Well, boo, that was all three, and it was greatly appreciated.

- Thank you. - Look,

this nigga ain't fighting for you.

[indistinct chatter]

ALL: Snitches are vicious. They enrich us.

I think that Swa is trying to figure out

how to fight for me.

You know, denial is more than that kid on the basketball team

with the lazy eye.

First of all, that boy's name is Tee-nial or was it Tray'nial?

- Was it T-? - Was it T'nial?

T'na, t'ne...

No. That's Train... Oh, shit.

I can't keep up with these fucked up ass names anymore.

Your name autocorrects to "Diarrhea."

Autocorrect is racist.

I typed in, "Fuck the white man,"

it autocorrects to "Duck, nigga."

My name is African and it's beautiful.

POLICE OFFICER: And...

ALL: If you see something, say something.

- Yo, this nigga corny. - Young man.

[indistinct chatter]

I know this is BS, but if you shut up,

we can get out of here faster.

- Go. POLICE OFFICER: Marihuana.

What I'm doing is I'm giving Swa the time and space to miss me.

Uh, hell, no. How much time this nigga need?

Look, it only takes a day

to miss the person that's giving you head.

That means somebody else is giving him head.

It's time to move on, bruh.

POLICE OFFICER: And...

ALL: There's no need for that weed.

["I've Been Loving You Too Long," by Lillo Thomas]

* Loving you *

* Too long *

* *

[sighs]

* To stop now *

No, thank you.

Oh, a wildebeest? No, thank you.

Old man River. No, thank you.

He's kind of cute. Oh, God.

That's my cousin Jerome.

Ugh, oh.

[sighs]

[indistinct conversation]

- So what do you do? BOTH: Oh.

Let me tell you something. This lovely lady here happens

to be a teacher at one of the top schools in the city.

See, I earn the money, she earns the good karma.

MAN: You two are very impressive.

No, no. She is very impressive.

Cheers to that.

[laughter, voices echo]

* To stop now *

[laughter]

[indistinct chatter]

- Hey, Ms. Brick. - Hi, Wandreeka.

[commotion]

[whistle blows]

Hey! Everybody, back up!

- What are they fighting about? - Some ho.

Hey! For my money, that was

dangerously close to fighting for love.

What did I tell you about fighting?

- He deserved it. - You stop.

ALL: Oh! [laughter]

Hell, look at this goofy-ass-

[screams]

ALL: Oh!

- You're doing too much. - I was protecting a student.

You want to know what the other teachers call you,

- Brickland, behind your back? - Yeah.

- Devoted. - Captain Extra.

I'm sorry, so no one's calling me devoted?

"Look out, she's coming. It's not a bird or a plane.

- It's Captain Extra." - I'm Extra?

You're up in here doing voices.

We have three rules, Captain.

Rule number one, don't touch the kids.

Rule number two, don't touch the kids.

Guess what rule number three is.

Um... If you see something, say something.

Don't touch the fucking kids!

You see a fight, you blow the whistle for security.

Security doesn't come, you pray.

And not out loud, because that's also against the rules.

Next time, it's a writeup.

So that's it? We're not gonna try to get

to the bottom of that fight?

There's no bottom to get to. This school is the bottom.

Do your job. Don't do what's not your job.

Thank you so much. It's been a pleasure.

[rapping] * Nice, nice, nice, slut *

* It's on my shield *

* You don't wanna fuck with me, girl, you ain't... *

I like tapping into white male anger

when I'm having a bad day.

They say Black women are angry.

Shit, white men do anger and camping better than anyone.

Money, power, respect.

Must be infuriating, 'cause they stay hot.

[continues rapping indistinctly]

- Oh, my God! - Roll down the window.

- Come on. - God. What?

Can you turn down that music with that trifling language?

Crazy Moni? Are you serious?

You taught me how to cuss, third grade.

You a damn liar. What I look like?

You look like you taught me how to say, "Fuck you, asshole.

I ain't steal shit," after you convince me

to steal a bunch of shit.

Get your ass out the car. Get out the car.

If you knock on my window one more time...

Easy.

[sighs]

Hi, sweetie.

Yo mama was a very bad influence.

Well, I guess we remember a lot of shit differently.

I guess we do.

Well, I remember you having some big house

in Grosse Pointe and a fine ass man with money.

Oh, wait, no, that was you sneaking in and out the house

all winter, but now Danger telling everybody

that you had to move back into your mama house.

And you're keeping it dirty as shit.

Remember that! Come on...

I have a lot of new opportunities on the horizon.

- Ah, shut the fuck up! - You shut the fuck up, Moni.

And, well, you don't cuss, though, right?

You didn't teach me how to cuss?

Yo, get your ass in the house.

You did teach me how to cuss, Moni.

Come on.

Shit!

MONI: Can't even get in.

Hey, mind your fucking business.

* *

[mumbles]

[sighs]

My house is not that fucking dirty!

["Fu-was" by Black Alley]

* Fuck you with a smile *

* You already know angry ain't my style *

* I'd rather just say, I'd rather just say *

* Fuck you with a smile *

Hey, somebody bitch at the door.

- Move. - Hey.

Don't, "Hey" me, Leslie Watson.

You know, you talk a lot of shit

for somebody who pissed themselves

in my class every day.

Ms. Brickland?

How you recognize me with all this grown man swag?

I never forget a face.

[rap music playing]

You.

You broke into my house,

and you scared the shit out of me.

And did I trip? Did I trip?

Did I trip? No, no, not at all.

I was very calm and Christian and forgiving.

I gave yo ass cake, okay?

But I will not stand idly by while you talk shit

about me to my childhood fucking frenemies.

I'm serious.

You keep my name out your fucking mouth!

[surprised exclamations]

* *

[water running]

* *

Somebody save the fucking fish!

[sighs]

It was in that moment that I remembered I'm a fighter.

I don't have to take shit lying down.

Not even divorce.

[gasps] [door opening]

You lucky I'm at therapy, D.

I'm gonna give you this one,

but don't let the grapevine have you out here fucked up.

* *

DIARRA: I'm probably not the first person to rationalize

that finding a Tinder Roni might actually save their marriage...

* *

But the setup was perfect.

He wanted to meet at Leesie's, one of those new Detroit spots

where Swa brought his clients, partners, friends.

I just needed one person to see me out.

Let the grapevine work.

Remind Swa that it was time to fight for me.

* *

But I didn't count on him taking my breath away.

* *

I'm fucked.

Wow. You're really handsome.

You know, I half expected your picture to be

from 25 years ago, or, like, jacked from the wall

of a barber shop or something.

Well, do you take pride in 360s?

Oh, reverse-Googled the image to make sure.

So, when was your last HIV test?

- Wow. When was yours? - How many kids you got?

- Zero. You? - What's your sign?

Sun, moon, rising?

- We can slow down on that talk. - What? What?

You all right? You good?

Yeah. Yeah, I just, um...

I just wanna know who I'm dealing with.

Mm. I thought you said you were looking to chill

and have a good conversation.

Uh-huh. Actually, I said scintillating.

So scintillate.

'Cause you seem like you're trying

to comb through my tax returns.

Did you bring them?

- 'Cause- - No, I did not.

[laughter]

- 'Cause we could arrange that. - [sighs]

I see. You are one of those weird chicks

who likes to go over every ugly detail

that led to this exact moment, aren't you?

You like control.

You think having all the answers will save you

from the inevitable pain of the human experience.

I've been there.

* *

Oh, you're funny. That's your thing.

- Okay. - Well, all right, fine. Fine.

I am an open book. Last relationship, go.

Mm.

[clears throat]

I have an idea.

Hmm.

Let's pretend that this is a third date,

so we've just gotten all that bullshit

getting-to-know-you conversation out of the way.

So you already know my rising sign?

Yeah, I know it. It's a good one.

A really good one.

CHRIS: And I might even know you biblically at this point.

DARRIA: Yeah, maybe.

CHRIS: And I already like it.

- Oh, you definitely like it. - [chuckles]

CHRIS: You seem like you're discerning.

What made you swipe on my picture?

Your eyes.

They seemed kind of familiar,

like maybe I'd seen you somewhere before.

Well, you have.

Our first two meets.

- Right. Yes. - [chuckles]

- You wanna have some fun? - Yes.

I should have asked more questions.

[moans]

How was that?

Good.

* *

Just what I needed.

I felt like myself for the first time in months.

The next morning, I changed his name in my phone to Ambien.

["Run it Back" by Melan]

* I don't really know why *

Okay, usually a man putting me to sleep is a bad thing,

but Aja, ooh, I am deeply in like with this dude.

- Oh, God, Jesus wept. - So did I.

When I came I sounded like Minnie Riperton.

- I was like... [vocalizes] - Shh!

- She's under the dryer. - Girl.

So good to see you again, Ms. Taylor.

See, bitch, that is why I'm celibate.

Hmm.

Well, I'm mostly fucking celibate.

You lose too much power going Minnie Riperton

after one date.

It was five dates, okay?

We did dinner, drinks, escape room,

which was new for me.

What, does he have stock in Groupon?

Come on, he likes me.

All these negroes know how to give a good first date.

It's the relationship part that causes mass confusion.

Well, me and Ambien are seeing each other again tonight.

Dinner and a movie. His idea.

He sounds like an axe murderer.

- He does live on the East Side. - That's it-

He said he lives across the street from that wing spot

that has the fat guy dancing on the commercial.

Mo-Fo's? I love that commercial.

Uh-uh, girl, no.

Anyways, this guy is perfect, I think.

- Mark my words, murderer. - I don't think so.

- Okay, girl. - I mean, granted

I don't have the best sociopath radar

- since I married your cousin. - Uh-uh.

- What? - Don't do that.

Have you seen him, by the way?

He was at Rashad's birthday thing.

But everybody knows that I'm Team Diarra,

so I don't even get much tea.

Well, fuck him. I am focusing on Ambien anyway.

D, friend, maybe you should focus on you.

Maybe you should focus on fitting me in for a wax

so I can be spic and span for my date tonight.

Uh-uh. Oh, no, I'm not gonna get you

all spiffy for this new one.

- Come on, please. - No.

* I know it's 3:00 in the morning *

["Do What I Say" by Bevlove]

* *

[cell phone beeps]

[song continues]

[cell phone beeps]

* *

[keys tapping]

* *

* Tonight I'm feeling crazy, baby *

* Ain't no making love, baby *

[cell phone beeps]

[line trilling]

AUTOMATED VOICE: The mailbox is full and cannot

accept any messages at this time. Goodbye.

DIARRA: Should I call the police?

To tell them you've been ghosted? Come on, Black woman.

I did not get ghosted.

This is textbook ghosting, Ms. Brick.

It's been how many days since you heard from him?

I don't know. Three, four.

- Shit, it's been five days. - Hmm.

Maybe he ain't texting you back.

- He in the wind. - Uh-uh.

No, no, no. Y'all were not there.

Y'all did not feel this energy that was passing between us.

It sounded like he didn't either. Oh.

[coughs]

- Lesson plans by 5:00. - Yes.

- [sighs] - You know,

my uncle once disappeared for six months.

He came back, married to a stripper on disability.

My granny says she was ladylike, but just ugly as sin.

Wandreeka, baby, you want me to finish braiding your hair

or you trying to get me to jump off

the Ambassador Bridge?

Sorry you got ghosted.

If it makes you feel any better...

here's a coupon to Trina's Nails and Waxing.

Somebody just stuffed it in my locker.

Are you trying to say I got ghosted and I'm busted?

Not like that. I didn't mean it like that.

- I did not get ghosted. - So what did you get?

Turn around. Keep your head... child.

Wow.

[line trilling]

AUTOMATED VOICE: The mailbox is full and cannot

accept any messages at this time. Goodbye.

[sighs]

I felt crazier than I did before I met him.

He had teased me with a full eight hours

of sleep, and I was addicted after one hit.

And I didn't even know his last name.

* *

He said he lives across the street from that wing spot

that has a fat guy dancing on the commercial.

Mo-Fo's? I love that commercial.

* Fuck the limelight *

* Had a kid, though *

* Got to get my mind right *

[song continues playing]

[indistinct chatter]

I don't know how I could have read it so wrong.

It is driving me fucking crazy.

I may be gay, but I'm still a nigger.

And the rumors are true. We ain't shit.

It's really not that complicated.

Hey, you know what? This is beneath us.

There should be no reason we should be staking out

some vanishing negro on the East Side.

Yeah, you gotta stop talking shit about the East Side.

All my cousins live on the East Side.

Where do you think he could be?

Not in here.

[rap music playing]

Maybe something happened to him

and that's why he hasn't called me.

Girl, you sound like a crazy white woman.

- I'm a concerned citizen. - Yeah, that's some shit

- a crazy white woman would say. - Don't insult me.

If anything, I am a crazy Black woman

and that's just fucking adorable.

So, never fuck anything that ain't moving.

Sage advice. Thank you.

Yes, Lord.

Okay, maybe not every crazy Black woman is fucking adorable.

Hey, can you all remind me again why people hate gentrification?

This place is trés gross.

Need to pray for my food in here.

Take a breath.

Mm. And I just became a regular.

I fuck with it too.

Okay, y'all, listen.

I have replayed every single aspect

of this day over and over again in my head.

Yeah. Then this one says

we're gonna have a good time tonight.

Oh, so you're a fortune teller and a palm reader.

That's... It's the same class.

Wow, that is a very specific skillset.

I like it.

And it was perfect.

There was no logical reason for him to ghost me, except...

[both chatting and laughing]

Is that guy following us?

Hey, we got a problem?

Okay, okay. Get this straight.

- So you was outside... - Uh-huh.

...at night?

- Yes. - And you saw

- some random vagrant? - We saw a vagrant, yes.

D, girl, it's the D, okay?

Look around you. It's vagrant. Vagrant. Look.

Okay, so maybe this one attacked him later.

Or maybe-maybe they knew each other.

- It was weird. - Was it a sexy vagrant?

- When are vagrants ever sexy? - Oh, oh, you got The Weeknd.

- Lenny Kravitz. - Zoe Kravitz.

- The stepdaddy? - What is this...?

- Jason Momoa. My guy. - Jason Mimosa.

- None of them are vagrants. - They're unkempt.

Why are we saying vagrant so much?

- Y'all- - Stop.

- What? - We've indulged this

long enough. Tell her.

[sighs]

All right, listen, bruh, you're still in Tree'nial.

You were supposed to start dating as a way

to face your divorce, but you're using

this whole Chris thing to keep living in a fantasy.

So y'all saying I was ghosted?

MR. TEA: Yeah, bruh. AJA: Yeah... [mumbles]

ROBERTA: Hell, yeah.

What are you all talking about?

Ma'am, please mind your business.

Okay, so what you're saying is that, after five years,

I wasn't enough for Swa, and after five minutes,

Ambien decided I wasn't enough for him either?

[indistinct chatter and laughter]

[glass shatters]

- Fuck! - Hey, stop cussing.

DIARRA: That's when it hit me.

What was the point of me even being a fighter

when no one was asking me to suit up?

I never felt so utterly alone.

I'm sorry!

[sobs]

Come on, baby, go get your girl.

Do the right thing.

Hey.

No, please, God.

- Hey. - [sighs]

Look, I know you're going through a divorce, okay?

But divorce ain't the end of the world.

You gotta be like J.Lo.

Every time she broke up with a nigga, she got finer.

I think she divorce the niggas so she could get finer.

So...

[sniffles] Thanks for the advice.

You know what? I was trying to move on.

I met this cute guy. I just... I opened my heart,

and he kicked me in the meat curtains

when I was already down.

- I hate a nigga with no code. - Oh, I know.

You blinded Elton Gregory on one eye

for calling me nappy-headed.

He was nappy-headed.

I mean, we was all nappy-headed.

- He owed you an apology. - And I got one.

He was like, "Oh, I so sorry, Diarra.

I so sorry."

[mumbles]

DIARRA: That's when I thought, "Maybe all I needed to put

Ambien behind me was a good old-fashioned apology."

* *

MONI: Oh, hell no.

How did I get roped into this ghetto "Fatal Attraction" shit?

'Cause you owe me. 8th grade.

I took your place in "Seven Minutes of Heaven"

with Melvin Rialto.

- Melvin wasn't that bad. - Wasn't that bad?

The nigga cover me from head to toe with his saliva.

I came up from that basement

looking like I just got off a waterslide.

Oh.

Oh, my God. It's getting decrepit.

No man live here.

- Yo, man lives here. - No, he don't.

Okay, that's true. Okay, [exhales] hype me up.

- Hype me up. - You got this.

Okay, if he doesn't apologize, I'm just gonna key his car

and we can be out.

Felony, but okay.

- How do I look? - Jefa, come on.

Okay! Shit.

[doorbell rings]

Oh!

Come on.

* *

DIARRA: Hello, Chris?

[doorbell ringing] [knocking on door]

[door creaks open]

Wait, wait. Look, I got my switchblade,

my taser, my brass knuckles.

Which one you want?

Moni, do you always carry those things?

The brass knuckles are just for the East Side.

Okay, John Wick, you stay here.

If something pops off, I'll holler.

Shit.

Chris?

[thuds]

Hello?

* *

What in the entire fuck?

* *

Hello?

* *

Hello?

* *

[screams]

[muffled yells in Russian]

Who are you?

Ah! Ah! Ah!

Who are you and where is Chris?

Diarra, is this the nigga?

[man yells in Russian]

This goulash ass nigga? No!

- Then, what the fuck? - I don't know, Moni!

- Shit. - [yells in Russian]

- Okay, switchblade. - Fuck.

[man continues yelling]

Hey, I am going to help you, okay?

He shut his ass up. Damn.

Shut the fuck up. [sighs]

- Hey, hey, hey, hey. - Hey, be cool.

* *

[Diarra grunts]

[man speaks Russian]

Where is the guy who lives here?

I'm just... I'm just trying to make sure that he's okay.

Hey, can you answer?

[both yell, scream]

[pants]

* *

MONI: I'm glad it wasn't him.

That wasn't nearly enough dick for all this shit.

* *

I cannot believe that you had a switchblade,

a taser and brass knuckles and you still let him get away.

First of all, I don't know what kind of weird sex shit

y'll into, but I'm not trying to be a part of it.

I got a husband, two kids, and bills to pay.

- The fuck I look like? - Good night, Monique.

[Moni scoffs]

MAN: Diarra.

[suspenseful music]

Diarra Brickland?

You've been served.

[pants]

Oh.

[sighs]

* *

They were right. I was in denial.

My marriage is over.

* *

The Ambien thing was a way for me

to avoid having to process it.

* *

But the Berlin Wall of my life had come down.

So it didn't really matter why Ambien ghosted me

or what happened to him.

[bell ringing]

I'll just have to accept the fact

that I'll never see him again.

And the only mystery I need to be trying

to solve right now is...

How the hell I'm gonna move on?

Bruh, you just need to...

throw yourself into your work.

* *

DIARRA: But then, at 4:44, clarity struck.

I was so busy thinking about Ambien,

I had forgotten about my part-time job

as Captain Extra.

- You like Wandreeka. - No, I don't.

* *

Marlon probably clowned her when her hair was a mess,

and you weren't happy.

Leave her alone.

I wasn't even at that fight.

Shut your lying ass up.

And you must be in love because you fought so hard and so bad.

* *

Probably because the only karate lessons

you ever had was watching from outside the window

while waiting on your mom to get her nails done.

* *

Which is how you had the coupon.

* *

Wandreeka's the finest specimen in the building,

whether she got her hair did or not.

DIARRA: There it was.

Somebody in this cold, hard city

still willing to fight for love.

* *

It was beautiful.

I'm only gonna say this once. Stop fighting.

Until you've actually had some karate lessons.

[sighs]

- You got me? - Yes, ma'am.

Yeah, okay. Don't call me ma'am. Go.

* *

She went back in, huh?

- Who told you? - Wandreeka.

Your mama may not be perfect, but she can flat twist

with the best of them.

- I'm sorry I missed it. - It's okay.

You need anything, you call me, day or night.

* *

[both snap fingers]

* *

That's how I solved the case of my black eye.

And that was gonna have to be enough.

* *

A few days later, fate intervened.

[indistinct chatter, yelling]

There wasn't a doubt in my mind it was him.

[gasps]

Ambien.

I knew I'd seen this motherfucker before.

I always thought it was the mama.

She keep putting them posters to throw folks off her scent.

- What? - Deonte Brooks.

Damn shame.

Probably been dead 25, 30 years by now.

Then how did this guy eat my pussy last Friday night?

The fuck y'all looking at?

Minding your own fucking business

is a full time motherfucking job,

and all of y'all need to stay employed. Shit!

DIARRA: In retrospect, I probably should have heeded

the philosopher behind me,

but I was sure I was one of the only people in the world

who knew Deonte Brooks had been back in Detroit,

that he was going by the name of Chris

and that he was missing again.

* *

And the fact that his stroke was the only known cure

for my insomnia made him my business.

[upbeat music]

* *

* *

* *

- Mom! - Shh. Daddy's working.

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