Oh boy, I'm tired. Also, this story sucks I've realized. Oh well.
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"These lovely boys were just paying me back for a shipment of drugs I gave them last month. So the money is mine."
Jae and the two other boys in the room look at me expectantly.
"Alright. Now get the bag out of my room I have to get ready." Jae's face turns to shock at my answer.
"That's it? I just told you I sell drugs and even worse that these kids bought them from me. You're fine with it?" He asks as I grab my jacket from the bottom drawer of my dresser.
"Yes. Now, is that all? I've got to get ready for work or I'll be late."
Jae looks at me strangely before turning to walk out of the room with his bag of money, knowing better than to question my actions.
The two younger boys follow him as well, one taking a moment to stare at me with narrowed eyes not surprising me at all.
After they leave I grab my chest harness that holds my knives from the chest under my bed.
I put on some black jeans, keep on the shirt that Jeongin handed me, the black jacket from my dresser, and some knee-high combat boots. I braid my hair and tuck it into the back of my hoodie.
I take my chest harness and hook it on before checking to make sure all of the knives are snug and set where they should be.
I check the time and realize I've got an hour before I need to meet Isabelle She probably would love to see me sooner but in all honesty, I don't want to see her any longer than I have to.
I head downstairs and hear voices resonating from the kitchen.
"I thought she was a teacher? She has another job?" Sounds like Jeongin.
"I had no clue, she does disappear to babysit her friend now and then, think her name was Isabelle, and I'm pretty sure she's 12? They usually go to Isabelle's house."
"Is she really hanging out with her though?" Hyunjin asks, suspicion dripping from his perfect lips.
"She's sent me all kinds of pictures of her hanging out with her so yes, I believe her."
Morons, we take photos before I go off to do my job. Those are just to establish an alibi.
I continue walking to the basement and descend the stairs once I reach them. The loud sound of my shoes hitting the steps echoes through the large room and makes me cringe a little at the intrusive sound.
I practice throwing my knives for thirty minutes to warm up, don't want to miss. That would leave me with poor payment and an unsatisfied customer.
I head back up the stairs and make a left to the garage to avoid being seen by the other boys knowing full well they were still there.
As I walk into the garage, Gerald follows after me to help me get ready quickly. He knows of my work and has no place to judge, he supports me no matter his view on the matter.
As I sit on my bike, Gerald hands me my helmet and starts my bike for me while I put my helmet on.
"I don't need to tell you to be ready to greet me. I'll need my knives cleaned and put back where they're supposed to be." He nods his head at me and opens the garage door for me.
As I pull away, I notice the front door open.
The kids are probably leaving.
I rush down the road to meet up with Isabelle, hoping that this time she'll be a little less annoying than usual.
