BLACK ROSE

The tea

Alex.

I shouldn't have found comfort in this smell. Years of coming here almost every single day accustomed to one's smell buds.

"When's the next show?" Nico asks, bringing the beer bottle to his lips.

"Soon," River walks by, dropping some papers on the coffee table. "If someone doesn't piss me off by then."

He glares at me like a mother glaring at her child, those deep chestnut brown eyes freezing me in place. I almost drop the bag of marshmallows.

"What did I do now?"

He ignores my question, instead sits down next to Nico. I throw the marshmallow bag to Francis, but Ray catches it mid-air. Grinning from ear to ear he opens it, stealing one fluffy marshmallow for himself.

"I fucking hate this," Ace complains, shutting the metal door tight. Ciara gently pats him on the shoulder before walking over to us. "I'm going to lose my mind with those damn kids."

"How old are these kids?" Ray asks, mouth full of marshmallows.

"Not much younger than him," Ciara answers. "Around sixteen."

"Some are fourteen," Ace argues. "Since when does age matter? They're impossible, that's the point." When his eyes land on me, they narrow. "Where were you? Why weren't you..."

I cut him off, "I already had my lesson today."

"You agree with him?" Nico speaks up. I had almost forgotten about him.

"Yeah. They're going to drive him insane eventually."

"That's not the kind of support I was hoping for," Ace replies, dramatic as always.

We all look at Ciara with raised eyebrows, but David's the one who opens his mouth, ready to voice our collective thoughts.

"All right, I'm leaving," She shakes her. " I wouldn't want to disturb your boy's night."

With that the door slams shut behind her, leaving us all alone. With no girls for the night. It's not that often that we hold only girl's or boy's nights. Usually we're always together, getting on each other's nerves and constantly bickering.

Parker appears in our little hang out room, returned from his bathroom visit. "How did the training go?"

Ace groans irritated at his question, rolling his eyes all the way back like a moody teenager being asked to participate in a family gathering. River shakes his head, stopping Parker from asking further questions.

"These runners are never going to survive a day out there," Ace says. "It's a fucked up generation."

"No offence, but why are you training them?" Francis asks. "You're not a dealer."

There's a minute of silence when Nico takes it upon himself to answer. Ace looks as confused as Francis, not knowing how he winded up in that position.

"He's qualified enough. One doesn't necessarily have to be a dealer to train. You need a good physical condition, some brains , but mostly knowledge on how it works here... and out there too."

"You know," Ace switches to his dramatic persona. "What I have to offer them is rather different. I teach them the graceful art of mastering one's opponent verbally. And if that fails, well, it's a fist fight."

"If you're teaching them your strategies, there'll only be a fist fight," I mock him.

"How many times have I talked us out of trouble, huh?"

"How many times have you gotten us into trouble? Because of your words?"

He's about to snap back at me, sparks of mischief yet slightly annoying illuminating his eyes. River steps in, breaking our bickering off.