Blessed (gxg)✔️

9. Hollow

Shawnee's POV

"Yo what's the word?"

"Nothing. Just got a quota." Rocko says, sitting on the couch of somebody's house with the buzz of the party taking over the sound in my ears. I'm not sure who's place this is but it's just people from the gang, their friends and women in here so we're good to sell and lean back since it's unlikely that there's rival gangs pulling up. Plus, it's halloween. There's just a bunch of people in costumes in the neighborhood just looking to get high or drunk if they're not with their families.

"I'll get the bag." I walk away and go to the car Dre gave Rocko to grab some stuff. It's a party going on so I grab a few uppers and hallucinogens that people love. I put some cocaine, Acid, Molly and it's close sibling- Ecstacy, into a separate bag since I don't need the whole stash right now. A few extra bags and bottles added to the pack and I head back to Rocko. He's still seated in the same spot, with a book this time.

"You reading?" I ask, a small smile almost creeping out. I fix my face as he looks up.

"Yeah." He looks back down with his same stoicism. I nod, sitting next to him before taking charge of the selling. He's basically the same rank as me but longer in, if that makes sense. He's closer to boss and other members as he's actually friends with them for being here a little longer but I basically talk to no one if I don't have to.

Hours and minutes pass just like this. I sell to dozens of people who come and go, stay and play, leave then come back for more- I don't know. That's none of my business. I'm just doing my job.

A few seconds into another sale, this white guy I think is about my age in his early to mid-twenties walks up. He itches at his arm, taps on his neck, licks his lips while rocking back and forth impatiently. He pulls his hood back all the way and I instantly recognize him as Trace.

"Yo Shawnee." He sticks his hands in his pockets, still rocking side to side while leaning his body forward slightly.

"Haven't seen you in a while bruh," I lean back. I think the last time I saw this guy was two weeks ago when he bought a larger amount of his usual ask.

"Got busy, my family was making me do some shit." He gives me three twenties. I look at the bill and sigh. It's all ripped and crumbled like it was pieced together after getting wet in somebody's pocket. I take the bills and reach in my bag before handing him a pair of Oxy pills which was his usual before he opted for bigger bags over a longer period of time.

When he takes the pills he looks around. Each passing second, I watch him hesitate as he stares at the drug. It's like he gets a chill, his shoulders scrunch up and eyebrows furrow through a wince of pain before he swallows the pills dry- I've seen him crush and snort them so it's not a surprise that he's comfortable doing that. He lets out a sigh of relief, before digging in his pocket for another couple of twenties. I'm about to reach into the bag to get a larger bag of twenty pills but he stops me by grabbing my arm. I throw my head back, yanking my arm away and glare at him.

"Sorry." He pulls back. I keep my look and wait for him to explain. "Uhh is there maybe something stronger?" He asks, rubbing his neck a whole lot. He's even sweating despite it being like fifty-five degrees outside.

With a silent nod, I stand, giving Rocko the bag. Trace follows me out the house and to the car where I introduce him to some other things. Different rocks to smoke, other powders and injectables. He listens to me without much to ask before taking his choice and making his way towards wherever he's going.

I watch him leave with another sigh. There goes another one.

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