Let's Roll- Larry Stylinson

Chapter IX

It was a common business to be in these days. Ever since the constitution banned the manufacturing of alcohol, speakeasies were the place to be. People were making quick money by producing liquor from home. It was what the public wanted and what they wanted made money. How the government saw it fit to remove such a high profit product beats Louis. What he does know is that he's been hanging around one of the many men who went into the craft.

Louis has never met anyone in the business. Most don't speak of it. It's like an unwritten rule to avoid the topic. If a man is making top dollar, odds are he's a gangster. Harry, on the other hand, beats the stereotype. He's not shy of who he is, neither ashamed. The words left his mouth so easily; Louis almost didn't realize the severity of his words. Yet, when his words sunk in, Louis' mouth went dry.

"You're –uh- gangster?" If it wasn't obvious before it is now. The signs were all there. The fight at the bar, the top notch clothing, the huge castle of a house. Harry was most certainly a gangster. "Woah." Harry smiles as he moves away, calling for the butler. The butler places the tray of cake on the table, Louis eyeing it with interest. Cake was another thing he hasn't had the pleasure of seeing in over years. Harry chuckles as he places a slice right in front of Louis. His gaze goes from the cake to Harry.

"Go on, eat up. Best cake in town." Louis cuts a piece off with his fork, scooping the chunk into his mouth. The first bite is heavenly and Louis goes in for another and another. Only crumbs remain on the plate as Louis finishes off the last bite.

"Mm mm." As he finishes chewing the piece, his eyes meet Harry's again and he remembers his words. I'm a gangster. "So you get to live this lifestyle because of that." Harry nods and Louis nods with him. Harry is living the kind of life he's always yearned for. His American dream. Almost eighteen years on this planet and Louis was still nowhere near where he should be if he plans on becoming a socialite. "I want to be a gangster."

Being a gangster would open doors Louis never knew existed. It's what he's been waiting for. The "in" to the riches he's always wanted. Harry's here, telling him what he needs to make the dough. Now all he needs is his guidance on how to do the job well.

A chuckle breaks the train of thought. Louis stares as Harry tries to muffle the sound, large hand over his mouth. Pointless really, seeing as he's practically bending over in hysterics the next minute. Louis frowns, crossing his arms in front of him in embarrassment. What's so funny about him wanting to be a gangster?

"Forgive me for laughing, it's just- you a gangster. You're much too small to intimidate anyone. " Guess that answers that question. Louis scowls at the larger man, puffing his chest to prove a point.

"I assure you I can be intimidating when need be." His actions only cause Harry to laugh further, eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Oh please, even your tough guy act doesn't cut it. You're too young." Those words sting more and Louis shrinks in on himself with hurt. His age had always been an issue in the past. Harry's words cut deep, back to a time when those words were on repeat until he'd gotten himself a self-sustaining job. Harry can sense the change in Louis, immediately shutting up his laughter. "Again, my apologies. I just don't think it's fit for you to be in my line of work."

"Why?"

"As I've said, you're age combined with your-" His eyes rake over Louis' body. "physique is not exactly the gangster image." Louis had enough of the negativity. He stands up, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Fine. If that's the way it is. Seeing as there is no other business to attend to with you, I'll be on my way." He ducks back into the house, walking through the maze that is Harry's home to find the front door.