Mafia (DNF)

Eight

I was staring at the cars going by on the street, when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around, and saw a guy with brown hair and glasses.

"Hey! You're George, right?" He asked. His voice was very non threatening, in a cartoony way, which is a nice change from all the other people I've met today.

"Oh yeah, hi. Um, who are you?"

"Darryl. Dream sent me to teach you to shoot."

I blinked. "You're teaching me to shoot a gun?"

"Yeah! Let's go, there's a car waiting," he said happily, and started heading towards the front doors.

Well, I guess you can't judge a book by it's cover. Dream's bodyguard followed us, and we got into the car.

"Nick, why are you coming?" Darryl asked from the front seat. "Actually, why did Dream send you to pick me up? You never listen to him."

"I owe him a favour," he muttered, annoyed. It seemed like he wasn't usually a bodyguard, more like a friend or acquaintance.

Darryl laughed. "I'd say you owe him a bit more than a favour, especially after what happened at Christmas."

I know it wasn't my place to intrude, but I wanted to know what they were talking about.

"What happened at Christmas?" I asked hesitantly.

Darryl looked at Nick. "Are we allowed to tell him?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "He's pretty much Dream's sugar baby, he probably gets even more privileges than us."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I frowned. "I thought I was just getting hired as a private secretary."

Nick seemed to cough back a laugh, and Darryl giggled. "Don't worry about it, you'll find out soon enough."

"Anyways," Nick interrupted. "I was seriously messed up, doing all sorts of drugs and drinking every night I could. I probably would've died, if it weren't for Dream."

He paused, probably reminiscing. Then he continued. "He found me one day at a bar, drunk out of my mind. I've always been well built, and I guess he took pity on me, because he offered me a job to beat up people he didn't like.

"I didn't know that he was a leader in the mafia, but it didn't matter much. At first, I just worked for him, but we got close. He started letting me help on bigger things, accompanying him to meetings as kind of a bodyguard.

"He never complained that I slacked off a lot, but last Christmas I got into a fight with one of our clients and beat him up real bad. Dream was pretty angry, so now I'm stuck doing everything he says for the next few months."

"Wow, that's a lot," I mumbled. I guess Dream wasn't just a heartless rich asshole, but I still wasn't happy about being forced to work for him.

"What about you Darryl? Why are you here?"

He looked thoughtful for a second. "Well, I've known Dream since high school. I've always done stuff with shooting, throwing knives, and that kind of thing. I don't work for him, but he calls me in for favours like this," He explained.

I frowned. "You guys seem a lot more reasonable than Dream. Does it not bother you that he's technically a criminal?" Nick scoffed in the background.

"Well, no. He's a decent guy, and he has a strong sense of his morals and stuff. He'll only help scam rich businesses that profit off the backs of poorer people, and only kill people that he thinks are worthless. I guess that's pretty subjective, though..."

"That's not to say he isn't absolutely ruthless," Nick cut in. "Sometimes I think he's a bit of a psychopath."

"But he's not working for them for money," Darryl protested. "He hates drugs as much as the next guy. He got dragged into all this during high school, and only stayed to try and help the other people who also got dragged in."

Nick just shrugged. The car slowed down, and we stopped beside what looked like a massive warehouse.

"Here we are!" Darryl exclaimed excitedly. "This is going to be fun."