'Pals'

'Pals' - 2

The loft bedroom was always cold and leaving the comfort of his warm bed was never easy. The only consolation he had was that it was Friday. Friday nights were always adventurous, money was needed as a good drinking session was always on the cards come nightfall. And there was only one way a teenager could  make money in the town of Nelson in the 80's, and that was by illegal means. Crime rates were high because there was no work and people looked at other means of making money. As with all run down areas, drugs were popular and those selling them made a good fortune. With that in mind he jumped out of bed and quickly got changed. Getting ready for school was easy, get dressed, quick splash of cold water over his face, one minute brushing his teeth and a quick dash down the stairs and out of the front door, with his mum shouting in the background, "What about breakfast?"
The early morning fry up was never an option. He had bigger fish to fry, besides his waist line didn't need it. The morning schedule was always the same, a walk to the bottom of the street and a short wait for his good friend to make an appearance. 'The Hotspot' they called it, the corner of Lomeshye Road and Every Street. It was a hangout where many youth would gather to plan out the days activities. Every Street was heavily populated by the Pakistani community and it was the main street in Nelson, running from one end of the town to the other. Shops and takeaways littered the area and it was considered the heart of Nelson.
Early morning trade had started as young children ran to the shops to buy sweets before school started. Leroy checked his watch, a digital casio which his mother had bought him on his birthday. 'Fuck sake, it's freezing, Maestro where the fuck are you?' He inquired to himself as he delved into his deep pocket and pulled out a squashed up joint. He ran his fingers over it like a magician and straightened it out. After a quick inspection he lit it up and inhaled deeply. The cold air coupled with the smooth intake of mariguana was a problem solver. The day had begun, and what happened from now on, would remain firmly a secret.
A few blocks away, another alarm clock was sounding, but rather then dragging himself out of bed, this young man leaped out like a gymnast leaps up for the crossbar. For him, every morning he woke up was a blessing, an opportunity to make a quick buck. A chance to make that break and become the 'Big timer' he desired. A picture of his idol 'Tony Montana' was hanging proudly above his bed. Maestro was smart, articulate and very active. His athletic build, thick black hair and smart dress code made him a hit the girls. But dates were the last thing on his mind. He looked up at his idol, 'Let's have it,' he said as he smiled and contemplated a very profitable day ahead.