The alley was grey, just like the rest of this district. The sky couldn’t be seen past the tall buildings and even then the dark smog of industry squandered what hope there was left to see the clear sky or afternoon sun. Men and women of wealth and status never stopped here, they just drove or walked on by, hurrying to get to their next meeting, or to punch in their card, if they even had one. CEO’s and tycoonists sped by this district in shiny cars and  hover vehicles, detesting the fact that they even needed to take this route. 

Women and even a few strange machines covered in biogeneric flesh hollered at those walking, but most most of the blue bloods simply pulled their business hats over their noses and quickened their pace. One dusty man among the quickened paces of silk and cotton suits slipped into the grey alley. 

His curly sandy hair was disheveled and dark rings were around his light green eyes. Stiff blonde stubble was starting to form on his cheeks and he wore bland clothes of almost generic make, as if he was an extra in the back of a movie scene. He wore old shoes and walked with a small nervous twitch, his body aching and his mind in withdrawal. 

He quickly approached two men. One wore nice clothes although only better versions of the ragged man's relaxed jeans and shirt, and his brother next to him showed physical signs of birth defects, and his clothes definitely were put on by him, with one pant leg scrunched and the other not, and his shirt on backwards, a large spaghetti stain dominated most of the front.

“Sancho!” the sandy haired man, Jeremiah, said, his voice cracking. The man who stood taller than the others and wore the better clothes screwed his face as he retaliated, “hey man, why you gotta be calling me that? Don’t do that shit.”

“I he-heard what you did with Joe’s girl, man,” Jeremiah stuttered, a small twitch taking his face in a spasm for a moment. Jose folded his arms, not willing to admit anything, “jus’ don’t do that shit. Whatchu want?”

“He wants his mediciiiine,” Jose’s poorly dressed brother nearly squealed, rocking back and forth in place. Jose looked disgustingly over at his brother Eduardo, “he wants some joy is what he wants, I can smell it on this piss ant.”

“Why do you gotta be insulting me like you’re s-s-s-some kind of blue blooded prick?” Jeremiah exploded with a flustered expression. His eyes darted around wide and anxiously as he brought a hand up suddenly to scratch his arm rapidly, “ju-just give me the shit, m-man.” 

“I don’t know man, this is some military grade shit, you’ll feel invisible, and you just might as well be,” Jose said flashing a small bag of blue pills. Jeremiah’s eyes widened and he reached for the bag. Jose pulled it back and grunted, “but it looks like to me you’ve had enough.”

“Just give me the joy!” Jeremiah shouted desperately, his voice deepening in frustration. Eduardo shivered uneasily, “just let him have it, Jose.”

“Shut the fuck up you retarded shit,” Jose snapped, “this prick still owes me, and above that, I’m not sure our pal here can take anymore.”

“I owe you noth-nothing!” Jeremiah started to pace, waving his hands around, “I fu-fucking paid you, I’m hu-hurting, just give me the damn pills!”

“Jose, please,” Eduardo started to beg. Jose slapped Eduardo across the face with a loud smack, “I’m the boss, shut the fuck up.” Eduardo stumbled backwards and whined.

“Hey!” Jeremiah raised a shaking finger as his red face twitched, “be fucking nice to your damn brother!” 

Jose put his weight on the back of his feet and laughed, “you’re washed up Jeremiah, this shit has you by the balls. I’d be damned if I let some junkie prick tell me how to run my business.”

 “Ju-just be nice to your brother,” Jeremiah growled weakly.

“Well what the fuck are you going to do about it?” Jose said with a huff. He spread his arms as if showcasing himself, folding the baggie in one hand, “you’re just some druggie with a dishonorable discharge, and I’m the man with everything you hold dear in a dirty fucking bag.”

“F-fuck you.” Jeremiah spat, sulking and sinking back at the words.

“Please stop fighting,” Eduardo pleaded.

“Ed shut the fuck up!” Jose yelled, pushing his brother to the ground. Eduardo fell like a sack of bricks, unable to catch himself, landing flat on his back with a loud exhale of pained breath.

 Jeremiah fumed in the shadows and with a shaking fist he snatched a solid rock and rushed Jose. With a loud grunt Jeremiah slammed the rock into Jose’s temple, sending the drug dealer to the ground with a loud crack. Jeremiah puffed his chest in and out as he breathed heavily standing over Jose. Eduardo yelled loudly, tears stinging his eyes, “you killed him!”

Jeremiah dropped the rock and shook his head, a deep pang of grief shot his gut and worry peeled across his face, “no man- no, I-I was just trying to help is all.”

“He’s dead,” Eduardo weeped, “you killed my brother!”

“Nah I was just foolin’ he is fine, I’m sure,” Jeremiah winced, his own eyes starting to water as guilt sunk into his stomach. A red stream started to flow from Jose’s forehead and puddle on the asphalt of the alley.

“Go away! Go away!,” Eduardo said between loud sobs as he cradled Jose’s limp body. Jeremiah started scratching his arm furiously, bringing it to rash, and twitched his head to the side. He quickly snatched the bag of blue pills and defensively pressed them against his chest, looking frightened at Eduardo,a freezing chill creeping down his already frozen body.

“Take your medicine and go,” Eduardo persisted. Jeremiah kept scratching his arm, only moving to steal a small gun that had fallen from Jose’s back pocket during the scuffle. He twitched again and wiped a tear, “s-s-sorry.”

Jeremiah bolted from the scene, shoving the gun in his pants seat. As he ran towards the slightly more lit street side, his clumsy swollen fingers fought to open the small baggie, shaking the pills all about. As he reached the exit to the streets his fingers finally slipped between the folds of the bag, but with a loud rip and the small clattering of pills falling everywhere, the bag exploded. 

“F-FUCK!”

He dove to the ground, despite the traffic walking by and started to desperately pick the tiny blue pills from in between the rough gravel in the asphalt. His fingers scraped and plucked the small drugs from the ground, popping the first few directly into his mouth with an intense gusto, whimpering to himself. 

The dry pills stuck to his even drier throat, and he painfully forced them down with rough gulps. He sighed a relieved breath through a cotton ball mouth after swallowing three of the pills. A disgusted snort from a passerby caused him to shoot to his feet, shoving the reclaimed pills into his pocket, “hey! you got something to say, blue blood!”

The suited man had already walked by and Jeremiah exhaled a hot breath, the nervous rock in his stomach causing him to feel nauseous. He felt like the world was spinning faster and faster. His head went light and he bent over, holding his knees. He opened his mouth and started dry heaving. A few people walking by quickly juked around him with insults and comments. He wanted to yell at them, but his eyes went blurry with stinging tears as he continued to heave, gasping intensely for breath in between. His face turned scarlet and he felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his skull from the exertion. His lungs started to burn from the lack of air and after a few more heaves, he felt like he was about to suffocate to death. 

Light headed and in pain, he twitched and spasmed. He fell to the pavement with a thud and started jerking every which way, convulsing and heaving. People stepped over him, and a few even threw things down on him. One woman dumped her ice coffee on his face as if it would help him, but then quickly hurried off in designer heels. 

Finally the spasm stopped, and he the pain was gone. It was not only the pain that was gone, but the deep welled anger, and even the guilt. He felt numb, he felt nothing. All he felt was “joy”. His muscles felt invigorated, like he could lift a tractor trailer and bend it in half. A beaming smile shot on his face as he jumped to his feet a new man. 

“Fuck them all who cares,” He said outloud, flipping off a passing CEO. His twitch was gone, and the rings around his eyes disappeared, revealing the face of a once ambitious young man. He started his walk shoving the coveted pills deeper into his pockets. 

He stopped and spun around, pointing at a surprised business man, “you,” Jeremiah began, his voice strong and baritone, “and all your rich devil friends can go fuck themselves, this is MY town.”

“What’s your problem creep?” The man said taken aback before continuing his walk.  Jeremiah waved a middle finger the man’s way, his buzz a little hurt. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked. His fingertips lightly played with the pills as he walked by window signs and posters talking about the Talents, and how great they are. Jeremiah scoffed to himself, feeling human once more now that his system was satisfied, [i] blue bloods, talents, they are all the same, high and mighty, shitting on the real people.[/i]

As he walked by a beggar he dropped what he thought was a coin into the man’s cup, but it may have very well just been one of the bolts that jingled in his pockets. He sighed happily and continued his walk. He felt great, like there was nothing in the world that could take him down. 

Eventually he found himself by the tower, the mask of an engineer over his once withdrawn face, and a box of tools in his hand. With a hidden smirk he secretly popped one of the blue pills underneath his mask and shook with delight as it slid down his throat. Time to get to work.