Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Belch, thank you for driving me back." You say, almost adding 'home'. In reality, he dropped you off three blocks away from your actual house. Your parents don't really know you or your interests, but what they can keep up with is the latest gossip. So if they found out you ran with the bowers gang, thoughts and prayers. That's why you told them you were skating with Stacy. The rink is only a step away, and a very controversial boy band (that used to be your favorite nine years ago) was playing. They figured you would be there trying to get an autograph.
"No problem [Reader's name]." He's the only one with a car, so he's always the one driving the whole gang around Derry. It's alright, everyone still offers him gas money. You used to save him the trouble and just biked to the hangout until it got stolen. "Oh, Henry and the rest are going to a bar Wednesday. Heard there's a mosh pit, too. You in?" He says with a smirk.
"Yeah. There nothin' better to do."
He passes you an envelope. "These are the fake id's. Your parents have a laminator, right?" You nod, knowing what it means. "I'll get it done and give it to Vic during the passing period." It's not like they actually use the thing. Your legs feel like they've fallen asleep. You've been sitting on the passengers side for a while. You get your bag and shove the envelope in it. You open the car's door and get out.
New mission.
》《
You woke up earlier than usual this morning, wearing maybe three pairs of socks and tiptoeing to avoid making the floorboards creak. You finally reach the storage room, you turn the light that consists of only a bulb, no protective glass. Then started to dig through boxes. Of course, your mom had an office with a new, upgraded laminator, but that'd be too risky. VI voala. A royal blue laminator that's been collecting thick dust since 1970. Hopefully, it works just the same.
There's shuffling coming from your parents, there probably popping champagne in there. You go across to your room, take a few wet wipes to wipe the dust off. Then you plugged it in, good as new. You take the envelope out and open it. Victor must have good connections because the people on each slip look just alike. The ages aren't all the default 21, and the states aren't all Maine, pretty diverse. You slip the papers in, grab scissors for when its over, and turned on your cd player and pop in West end girls, watching the process.
Someone knocks on your window, considering it's right by your bedside you jump from the sound. You can hear a muffled voice giggle. You open it. "Patrick?" Your sister climbs into your room almost falling before she falls. The first thing you notice about her face is that it's all red. She starts giggling more. Looking around and touching your stuff. She gets almost too close to the laminator, "S/n, are you drunk?" She doesn't reply, only grazing her finger on the laminator gingerly. The id's, which are fully laminated by now, slide out of the machine land on the floor. S/n was quick to pick it up. "Not really, but from the looks it, you're about to be -"
You cut her off, "Promise not to tell mom."
"Jeese Louise. I know their not for you. I'm kidding. You're making these to hustle, right? Mom did cut back your allowance. Kids my age pay whatever for fake id's. Just don't let them rip you off. Right?" She slurs. You're lost for words, only nodding. "Ohh. This one looks your friend a lot." "It does..?" you ask, playing along, letting her sort this out in her head. "Yeah, anyways, I'm gonna be in the shower. Plus, im that last person to snitch, " She says before laughing hysterically at her own joke. S/n is in for one hell of a yelling match. The smell of liquor literally reeks on her. Long as you don't smell, nothing should give it away.
You began to cut the id's extra plastic off and hid the laminator. Hey, her idea of what you were doing doesn't sound that bad for a side job. You stuck them back into the envelope, beforing putting your cd back on and drifting to sleep.
