DON'T BREAK THE RULES

Chapter 9 - Sketchy

"You look all dressed up."

Joe glanced over his shoulder, the familiar voice catching his attention and he felt a robust palm grip his shoulder. "I haven't seen you in this sort of clothing in forev..." His friend's attention diverted and Joe raised a confused eyebrow when he felt his friend's fingers pinch the fabric of his sweater, surprised by its delicacy. "Wait a second." He gripped Joe's shoulder and twirled him, reached for his tag and almost choked on his own saliva when he saw the brand. "Woah!"

Joe still didn't understand why his friend's entire face had wrinkled. "What?"

"That sweater alone," he pointed towards Joe, shaking his head before bringing the rim of his glass to his lips, "it's twenty-four hundred."

"Twenty-four..." He was breathless, unable to believe Jamie would risk having such an expensive sweater ruined.

His friend nodded his head. "DeVinci Balangua. One of the top brands in the world. And that sweater was limited edition, only a hundred people in the whole world got it and most of them were celebrities." When he noticed the way Joe's eyes became focused, eyeing the floor with his finger on his chin, that was when he realized why Joe was terribly confused. "Don't tell me you've never heard of that brand."

"Listen Fred, to be fair, I was never into expensive clothings in general."

Fred shook his head, landing his glass cup against the counter and tilting his head. Fred was the only real friend Joe had. They had met four years ago in this bar. Joe had gotten into an argument with a random stranger who had stolen one of his drinks, and the stranger lifted his fists to start a fight. It was Fred who diffused the situation, being a regular as well, and he defended Joe as he had seen him around numerous times. From there, their friendship blossomed to the point that when Joe needed a place to stay some nights, given that his wife Marisa wasn't home, he would warmly welcome him.

Fred had worked as a private repairman, being hired for different homes whenever there was an issue. Strangely enough, he never seemed to work but always had an abundance of money although one could never tell with him. He wore practically the same shirt and sweats every day and could always be found at this bar at five of the afternoon. Drinking was also his specialty and being a husband was never his strongest suit. All he wanted was to stay out of the home where he couldn't be degraded for every single tiny mistakes, but he was convinced he loved her.

He was the one that gave Joe most of his advice and most of the time he was right. He told Joe to get himself together or else Morning's would fire him if he didn't let go of the loneliness, but Joe failed to listen and eventually was kicked out of the job.

Fred sent a few fingers through his hair, exhaling a long sigh as he was not approving of what he heard. "Where did you get the money for that?"

"I didn't," Joe mumbled embarrassingly, but his attention shifted when he heard the phone in his pocket buzz. When he retrieved it, eyeing the message that had been sent to him, he swallowed hard when he realized it was Jamie who had texted him, "Who is that guy?"

"Woah!" Fred's shout caused a few eyes to glance their way and Joe rapidly looked around, unsure why he had yelled.

"What?" He panicked.

Fred couldn't help but chug his drink before placing the empty glass on the counter. All his attention had to be on Joe, and he placed his palms on his hips as he shook his head, exhaled a long strident breath.

"Joe, I'm asking you this once and one time only." His tone had lowered into a deeper tune, a sudden raspiness as if he struggled to maintain his breathing and one of his palms reached Joe's shoulders and squeezed. His eyes had gotten somber, unable even to see his eyelids from how much his eyebrows furrowed and he held a long gaze with Joe. "Are you dealing drugs?"