BLACK ROSE

No heroes, only villains

Alex. 

I look at the money in my hand. "It's not enough," I say dryly.

"I don't have more."

I release a low chuckle, taking back the little pastel green plastic bag. I wonder why it's suddenly coloured, though it does look better than a typical see through one. "Then I guess there won't be any business tonight."

It's a little past one in the morning, and I'm finding myself in a foreign neighbourhood far from my own home.

"No," the young male tries to snatch the little bag from my hands, unsuccessfully. "I need it."

"Then give me my money."

Ace's standing a few feet behind me, listening to every word being said. Due to the moderate darkness and shadow of the street lamp, his shoulder seems unusually broad and biceps unusually muscular. His body is covered in a thin but strong layer of muscles, which gives him a sense of natural respect. Sometimes I like to use him for my business, taking him along when I'm too tired to bother with uncooperative clients myself.

"I don't have more."

I shake my head. "You know the rules. Money for the dose." I put the little bag back in my backpack, and hand him his money back. I could be a total asshole and take the money anyway, as a way of compensation. "No money, no drugs."

Staring at the money, I eventually take a little amount. It's not a habit of mine to strip my customers of whatever money they somehow manage to make. Though every once in a while a little compensation for the trouble is needed.

"Please," he begs. It's always interesting to watch them bend their own morals. I like to count how long it usually takes them before they start to beg and try to make another deal. "Please."

Ace chuckles behind us, but the young male ignores him. One look Ace's direction and he'd shit his pants right there and then. There's something about bringing Ace or Ray along on my late night business adventures. It's impressive how their 'auras', as Violet calls it, gets people to obey.

"No money, no drugs." I repeat myself.

"Give me some of it," he tries.

"Do I look like I carry a scale around with me?" I snap at him. Whether the bags come from AJ or Cal, they are prepared in the amounts needed. "You know the rules."

There's a long moment of silence and his eyes are glued to the pavement. He's thinking, using his last functioning brain cells to come up with an idea. Because I'm in no particular hurry tonight, I give him time.

"Wait here," he says suddenly and disappears in the darkness of the little valley between two houses. At first glance he doesn't resemble an addict and it strikes me the drugs might not be for him. He seems put together, relatively mentally present. It could just be stage one of the long and deadly journey of addiction.

Ace comes up to me, leaning against the wall. "Have you been thinking about quitting?"

I shake my head, then nod immediately. Over the years it has become something I've lost control over. I never intended on doing this for so long. With each day passing by the risks are higher and deadlier.

"I don't really have a choice at this point," I say. "Not right now, at least."

Ace nods. "You can always create the space for the choice." I shake my head in a silent disagreement. "You can."

The young male whose name isn't familiar to me comes back. His hair is twice as messy as it was when he left, and his eyes seem three times more tired. The dark circles under his eyes almost shine, giving him a zombie look. He looks like every other sleep deprived college student.