We arrive at a three story townhouse about a 15 minute drive away. This part of the city isn't too great either, and admittently I've never been to this section once in my life. The buildings are all longer than they are wide and made of brick with green moss growing inbetween.
"Gotta watch out for hipsters over there putting up revitalization posters," Ivan whispers to us while he tilts his head enough for a ray of sun to bypass him, "they will call the cops one hundred percent of the time."
I scratch my head and watch the teenagers tape posters onto lampposts, they're white shirts and blue jeans sticking out like a sore thumb in this part of the city.
"I'll run in, don't worry," Jerome mutters to what sounds like himself, but I know he's addressing all of us. Or just Ivan.
"No, no, we're all gonna go in," Ivan quickly interrupts.
"Woah, wait. What happened to me just sitting out and watching?" I interject and anxiously lean forward from the backseat.
"You'll be fine. I got your back," Ivan tells me as he rests one hand over his concealed gun.
"Um, okay, but I really thought I'd just be hanging out—"
"I said I got your back, now shut up and follow behind us," Ivan calmly tells me once more.
I wait until both Ivan and Jerome are out of the car before following behind them, crossing the street to a building on the other side.
"You guys are doing great work," Ivan obnoxiously yells over to the teenagers taping posters, giving them a half assed and fake smile. They don't do anything in return but smile and quietly mutter thank you.
"Way to go, I thought the goal was to not bring their attention to us?" I question after Ivan shuts his big mouth.
"Relax. It makes them feel safe. A little chit-chat never hurt nobody."
I sigh and try to stay relaxed like Ivan told me while we all file into the building. Apparently it's an apartment complex with a few doors upstairs and a few doors downstairs in the basement. Upon following Ivan's lead, we're heading down into the basement.
We reach a door that's visibly different from the others. It's wooden and kind of beat up with black skid marks and stains, the brass door handle peeling away to a darker under layer. I get a bad feeling in my gut immediately but it's too late to pull back now.
"Yes?" A woman says as she opens the door with the chain lock still in place so I can't see anything.
"We're here for pick up," Jerome speaks up and awkwardly clears his throat at the end of the sentence.
The door closes only to be opened fully within the coming seconds. The woman standing on the other side is wearing a fur coat with a face caked with neon eyeshadow and blush.
"Come in," she says with a smile that makes my stomach drop for the eighth time today.
"Oh, fresh meat!" She exclaims as I try to camouflage myself in with Ivan and Jerome. I half-gulp and try to stay cool, keeping my mouth shut.
"Yeah, well, he's with me. Don't pay attention to him," Ivan says almost defensively. I feel a jolt of relief that only lasts a few seconds.
"According to my records," the woman says as she scans over a clipboard with her long, pink fingernails, "you've earned $5,000 this month."
"You sure?" Ivan questions with one eyebrow raised.
"Positive," the woman reiterates with the same smile as before.
"I think we earned $7,000. Are you trying to rip us off?" Ivan questions as I feel the tension around me grow a little bit more.
"Dude, calm down. Just take it," Jerome chimes in and rests his hand on Ivan's shoulder. He wiggles away from his hand almost immediately and briefly turns back to look at me.
"Alright," Ivan finally says, "five thousand."
The woman, who I've guessed is Beeja, puts her clipboard down on a table and slowly takes her time walking into a room down a narrow hallway. I suck my breath in and look around the tiny apartment that barely seems big enough for one person.
"I did that for you," Ivan suddenly says once Beeja is gone in the other room, "I did that for you because I didn't want you to get hurt or stuck without a gun."
I shrug and keep my eyes wide as I take one more quick glance around the apartment. "Thank you," I croak out between my anxious feelings. It really meant a lot to me but I didn't want to seem like a baby, so I had to make it seem like the gesture wasn't so thoughtful... even though it kinda was.
Ivan turns back around right away and I stay in the background, watching Jerome nibble on the inside of his cheek.
Beeja finally comes back with a stack of cash, smiling a little less creepily this time. "See you next month, boys. You know where to go next."
Next?
I clear my throat and watch Ivan storm past me to the door, holding it open for Jerome and I as we leave the tiny apartment which smelled like a mix of vodka and marijuana. It was nice to get a breath of semi fresh air.
Before I can even breathe in, Jerome is knocking on the neighbor's door.
"Hey, you got it? I'm gonna have a cig and I'm taking newbie here with me," Ivan says as he lightly punches my arm at the word "newbie."
Jerome nods and looks over his shoulder at us, quickly resuming his previous position standing and staring directly at the door.
"C'mon," Ivan mumbles as he nods his head in the direction of the stairs. I follow him all the way outside to our car, standing on the sidewalk as he sits down on the hood to pull out a lighter and a pack of smokes.
"Not too scary, right?" He asks me with a smirk and a cigarette wobbling between his lips.
I shrug and stick my hands in my pockets as I think of how much worse it actually could have been in there.
"Alright, or don't talk. Hope you're not mad at me or something," Ivan adds as he brings the flame of the lighter up to the cigarette.
"I'm not," I quickly say, eyeing up the cigarette.
After Ivan takes a drag, he holds the cigarette out for me but insists on putting it right between my lips, so I lean in and let him do it. He smiles like it gives him some sort of satisfaction but I just roll my eyes and inhale the nicotine while I can before I get shot on these streets.
"What's he getting in there anyway?" My arm extends towards Ivan with the cigarette between my fingers and I'm hoping he will just take it and not make me do any weird shit like stick it between his lips for him.
"Dude, does your nose not work or something? Weed."
I chuckle to myself and shrug lightly, watching him blow smoke up into the sky.
I've noticed that's something I've been admiring quite frequently.
----
YAY, another chapter. This isn't edited at all to be honest. I wrote this in an hour and haven't touched it once. Comment/vote and let me know what you think so far! (ignore mistakes also)
YOU ARE READING
Eliott Price Should be Dead
General Fiction[boyxboy] [#42 in general fiction] Eliott is alive. He's navigated through foster families, group homes, and no home. Through it all, Nigel has been by his side. Now that high school is over and they've found a place - a real home - to live with t...
