Sixer watched the gangly-looking teen with washed-out clothes walk away. The kid had been weird. It felt like he could just… look through him.
"Why did you accept that Sixer?" Cousie questioned him. "We don't know him. Could be cops." Sixer had known Cousie all his life. They first started selling drugs when his middle-class dad retracted Sixer's pocket money for bad grades in school. Sixer, though, had really wanted to buy a new game that was coming out. When Cousie asked how Sixer was getting so much pocket money with his bad grades, Sixer had let him in on the secret.
"Calm down, Cousie," Cherry answered for Sixer. "The kid barely looked 18. You think someone like him is with the cops? Besides the 400 Tales." Cherry looked at Cousie.
"Don't tell me you wouldn't have taken that," Cherry stated.
"Alright, alright. I am just being careful. You know how some of the other crews got pinched recently."
Cousie was right. Sixer also was more nervous than usual. The cops had been more active. He thought about how he got into this situation. He grew up fine, had good parents, and had enough money to be comfortable. But what started out as a little pocket money… slipped from his control.
Now he was running his ragtag group of 3. The well-built 21-year-old Cousie, hiding a strong muscular frame under his chubby exterior, with his shaven head and cauliflower ears. He was smaller, around 170 to 175 cm, but that didn't fool anyone in the group anymore. He had earned his ears, in training and outside of it. He was, so to say, the muscle of the group.
The portly 20-year-old Cherry, always with a smile on his face, always joking, but with a huge scar all across his belly, which nobody knew how he got. He was around 180 to 185 cm. Sixer and Cousie had gotten to know him by him selling in this same park a year after they started. First rivals, they decided to band together when even more people wanted to provide their goods in the park. Showing these newcomers out had been the first time Sixer had been… physical. Cherry was the salesman. He made friends quick and connections quicker. He always knew someone that knew someone.
And then there was him. Taller than both of the others, around 188 cm, and more muscular too. Still, he wouldn't bet on himself should he have to fight any of them. Despite his looks, he was more of a talker. The leader and intimidator of the group.
After they had "secured" the park for themselves, they had decided to get tattoos together to signify their friendship.
Cousie had gotten the face of a bear all across his chest. Said it made him look stronger.
Cherry had tattooed his dog on his arm, a huge Saint Bernard. When they asked why, he'd said, "It's my dog; that should be reason enough."
Sixer himself had gotten a graveyard on his back. He himself didn't really know why.
Of course, Sixer wasn't his real name, as Cousie and Cherry weren't theirs. That's just what they were known by nowadays.
"You think the kid is going to do it?" Cherry asked.
"Don't know," Sixer answered.
"I got ten bucks that say we'll never see him again," Cousie threw in.
"Don't discount him so quick," Sixer countered. "He felt… weird. There was something there. Something in his eyes."
"You think he is Extra?" Cousie exclaimed.
"I just said he is weird, man. Don't just make stuff up." Sixer clarified. "Besides," he continued, "wouldn't he have told us?"
"Ok, ok. Just saying," Cousie stated. "Still don't think he's cut out for this business."
"Doesn't matter," Cherry said. "Either way is fine for me. If he makes it, we gain a talented peddler. If he doesn't. 400 Tales."
________________________________________________________________________________________
Leon was counting his money while walking back to the park. He had made a nice 200 Tale bonus for a total of 600 Tales. It had been easy for him. Why wouldn't it be? He could literally smell the desperate, discern the downtrodden, and taste the anxious. All it took was for him to fan the flames a bit, and voila, a new customer was born.
As he entered the park, he saw the group of thugs, at the same place, talking amongst themselves. When he got closer, the smallest one noticed him first.
Cousie: "Jooooo, we don't do refunds."
Leon: "I don't want a refund."
Cousie: "So you're telling me you sold everything off in what? Like an hour. Cherry, the kid is competing for your jokester position."
Leon: "That is," he pulled out the money, "what I," he showed it to the group, "indeed did." Cousie's eyes widened while the rest of the group stared at him.
"And this here," he gave 100 to the tallest one, "is for a fruitful cooperation."
The group was stunned.
Sixer: "You sold 5 grams in under an hour, with no connections, with no regular customers, and you made a 200-Tale profit?"
Leon: "That's what I did. My name is Leon, by the way. And you are?"
Sixer: "I am Sixer. The Baldie over here is Cousie, and the fatty is Cherry. I have to say, I don't know how you did it, but however you did, we could use it."
Leon: "So am I in."
Sixer looked at Cousie, then at Cherry.
With a wide smile he said,
"You're in."