Zane parked his car and walked up to Obadiah's front door, about to knock before he remembered he could just let himself in, so he did.
Zane never really liked Obadiah's house. Sure it was nice, but there was no color or any proof anyone lived there, except for the beer bottles left on the table and indents on the couch seats.
He walked down the staircase to the basement, and stood before Obadiah.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Zane asked.
Obadiah sat at the white table, flipping through one of the files, “I think someone is interested in joining us.” He didn’t glance up while speaking, “Her name is Nyir, but I don’t know her last name. I gave her the card.” He straightened up the papers and put them back in the folder.
Zane pulled out a chair to sit at and placed his chin on his palm. "That's a peculiar name. How did you meet her?"
“I met her while getting the duck tape for one of my other projects and she asked too many questions. I’m suspicious of her.” He got up to put the file back away, “But I could be wrong.”
Zane hummed in acknowledgment. "People will always be curious, I suppose." He pulled his arms from the table and into his pockets. "I'd like to meet this 'Nyir.' How old is she? What does she look like?"
“She seemed to be in her forties,” he answered, “Very composed and mature. Some of her mannerisms even reflected those who have been in the military or police work. That’s why I’m suspicious.” He sank back down into his chair.
Zane nodded. "Now, when you met her was she another customer or the cashier?" He asked.
(Bump)
“Cashier.” He answered, “I was the only one in line and she looked bored to pieces.” He snorted, “Craving excitement, maybe.”
“She probably is ex-military, then. If she gets in contact, I’ll meet with her. Now, is there anything else you wanted to talk about or is that all,” Zane asked.
May I? I know how to sell drugs-//
“You can stay and hang around if you want.” He leaned back in his chair to relax, tapping four of his fingers against the table “I don’t mind your company.”
May I? I know how to sell drugs-//
That was a joke by the way…///
May I? I know how to sell drugs-//
That was a joke by the way…///
Lolol!
“You can stay and hang around if you want.” He leaned back in his chair to relax, tapping four of his fingers against the table “I don’t mind your company.”
Zane gave him a bright smile. “Aw, thanks.” He looked around the basement. He had been here multiple times before. Just like upstairs, no pictures. “Why don’t you decorate your house at all?”
“I don’t have much of an artistic flair.” He glanced up to Zane’s pink hair, smirking and letting out a very short, actually amused, chuckle, “Unlike you.”
May I? I know how to sell drugs-//
(sure!)
“I don’t have much of an artistic flair.” He glanced up to Zane’s pink hair, smirking and letting out a very short, actually amused, chuckle, “Unlike you.”
“I find life boring without a bit of color!” Zane shrugged. “But you don’t have to have an artistic flair in order to hang a picture of yourself or a loved one on the wall.”
Cat lays on her air mattress in her tiny room. She gets a text from a girl in her school. "Hey, I'm having a party Saturday. Could u come with some stuff? you know the usual." Cat texts a quick "Yea, see you then." Back before texting Zane. "Hey, party this weekend. Rich kids house going to need some coke, molly, and maybe weed"
May I? I know how to sell drugs-//
(sure!)
Alright! Let me get a form up then!//
Zane looked down and fished his phone from his pocket when he felt it buzz. He looked up at Obadiah and gave him a quick, “Sorry, give me a moment,” before returning his attention to his phone. A text from Cat. ‘Okay. When do you want to meet? I’m busy currently.’
"Anytime you're free. I can meet you tomorrow before the party if you want. Also if you are with Obadiah lethim know." She texts back.
Obadiah glanced curiously at Zane’s phone, “Who’s that?” He sat up in his chair, leaning against the table on his arms.
Zane read the text and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “Cat. She’s selling at a party tomorrow,” He said.
“Ew.” He snarled his lip, “Anything but a party” he ran a hand down his face, “but parties bring in good money,” he reasoned.