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[indent][right][i]Earlier that morning[/i]

[b]The [color=1667aa]Lockhart[/color] [color=f473ec]Residence[/color][/b][/right]

[indent]The pair of Lockharts sat at the table in the kitchen of their tiny apartment, staring at a jigsaw puzzle that rested in the center. Once finished, it would reveal a picture of a pair of foxes in the snow, a picture perhaps taken in the countryside of Virginia, or Maryland. Reina liked it a lot, and had finished the edge while her brother had made her breakfast a little while ago. Now, though, she was focused on eating the food in front of her: scrambled eggs and sourdough toast.

While she was busy eating, Ashton spoke up. [color=1667aa][b]“Remember, I have to go to work right after school.”[/b][/color] He said, and Reina looked over at him and furrowed her brow in disapproval. Ashton sighed, [color=1667aa][b]“It’s important, Rei, come on. I know I only usually have to do it on the weekends, but —”[/b][/color] Ashton, however, was cut off by Reina.

[color=f473ec][b]“[i]Which[/i] job?”[/b][/color] She questioned, waving her fork at him, and Ashton shrugged his shoulders to dismiss — or dodge the question, and Reina blew a raspberry in his direction. [color=f473ec][b]“You’ll be there to pick me up from Hummingbird Creations, right?”[/b][/color] And Ashton nodded.

[color=1667aa][b]“Reina, there is nothing in hell, high heaven, or anywhere in between that could stop me from coming back for you. I’ll be there to get you before you even realize I’m gone. It shouldn’t take me more than an hour tops.”[/b][/color] Ashton said, to reassure her, and Reina gave him the tiniest of smiles. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. That was good enough for him; more than good enough for him. [color=1667aa][b]“I have that party tonight. Do you want to go, or no? Before you complain, my boss says I have to go.”[/b][/color] He said quickly, to avoid any concerns his sister may have.

Reina shook her head, [color=f473ec][b]“Absolutely not. I’ll stay here and color, or something. Too many people at a party.”[/b][/color][/indent]

[color=1667aa][b]“I agree.”[/b][/color]

[right][i]After school[/i]

[b][color=1667aa]Burntown[/color][/b][/right]

[indent]Q had fucked up. It was plain and simple, as Ashton saw it. The deal was simple. He gave her stuff, she moved it, she paid him. He gave her a good hookup, and she did a good job. This was the first time that he could remember where someone hadn’t paid her for it, but he didn’t care. Play with his money, then you play with his life.

Ashton was gonna deal with it. That meant he had to go to the source of the problem: Stephen Rhett. That was who’d screwed Q on the blow, and by extension, he’d screwed Ashton. He was just a kid, sure, but kid needed to learn. So, Ashton had taken himself to Burntown, where he knew Q dealt the most, and where he knew he’d find the stupid stoner kid. It took him a minute (the place was much larger than Ashton ever realized), but he did find Stephen Rhett, skating alone. Ashton approached, and Stephen looked up, [b]“Who are you?”[/b]

The kid barely had a chance to speak, before Ashton pushed him with both hands, shoving him hard against the hardwood of the halfpipe. Ashton swung full force into the sophomore’s mouth, busting his lip. Stephen went to bring his hands up to defend himself, and Ashton yanked both arms out of the way and hit him again, this time against the temple. The kid started to fall down, but Ashton grabbed him by the collar and shoved him more firmly against the halfpipe, the blood dripping from his lip and down to the otherwise stainless wood.

[color=1667aa][b]“You think you’re funny, dude? You think you can just take shit?”[/b][/color] He growled in a voice that was almost [i]primal[/i], before he hit him in the stomach. Ashton wasn’t a trained fighter. He didn’t go to the Combat Club, and hadn’t taken karate as a child. He was driven by anger, and it showed in the way he fought; it was almost animalistic the way he was handling Stephen.

[b]“W-what are you talking about?”[/b] Stephen sputtered, and Ashton hit him again in the stomach.

[color=1667aa][b]“You owe Q money, which means you owe [i]me[/i] money, and I ain’t quite as nice as she is. I [i]know[/i] you refused to pay her. [i]Twice now[/i]. And you’re gonna pay her. You’re gonna [i]pay me[/i].”[/b][/color] Ashton growled, before he started dragging the kid, pulling him away from the halfpipe and dragging him, kicking and resisting in the dirt, across Burntown, to the spot where he met with Q to make the drops once a month.

Fuck you. Pay me. That was how he’d been told to handle this situation, and that was how he was going to handle it. Once he arrived at the spot, located near the rear of Burntown, hidden away from all the commonfolk of the area, he pulled out his phone.

[quote][b]To: [color=ff0066]Quincy[/color][/b]

[color=1667aa][b]Spot.[/b][/color][/quote]

Ashton knew it’d be only a few moments before Q showed up. She was never late and always responded quickly to his text messages. And he appreciated that. Hopefully, she’d follow through this time. With one hand, he threw Stephen to the ground, before turning his attention to him again. [color=1667aa][b]“You [i]stay there[/i]. Don’t move, man.”[/b][/color][/indent]

What could he want? That was all Q could think about as she walked through Burntown, towards the back where she normally met Ashton. They met once a month. No more, no less. She rubbed her fingers against one another, feeling the lines on her hands, tracing them, trying to calm herself. Ashton gave her the creeps. Just a little.

How had she gotten into this business in the first place? Good question. It all started after her dad died, last year. After falling in with the burners, she met Ashton. He offered her money to do some basic drug dealing. Weed, that was it. Q liked the money, and maybe the rep it gave her too. She was sprinting away from her old life, doing everything she could to get away from it. Maybe she tried too hard. Soon weed became pills, and pills became blow. And it wasn’t like she could just get out. She was in too deep. Far too deep.

A Double didn’t know where she was. If he did, would he even let her come? Quincy wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t about to test it out. For now, she’d keep him in the dark. He’d been about to give her a ride home when she got Ash’s text, and hitched a ride with another kid to Burntown instead. Hopefully he would forget about that. The last thing she needed was him poking around this part of her life. He knew that she sold drugs, and that was all he ever needed to know. 

[color=ff0066][b]”What the fuck?”[/b][/color]

Quincy hadn’t been sure what to expect, but this scene, surely wasn’t it. There was Ashton, standing with a bloodied and bruised Stephen Rhett. Even with a busted up lip, she recognized him. She knew Ashton was off, but this? [color=ff0066][b]”What the hell is this Ash?”[/b][/color]

Ashton was almost annoyed with Q from the way she was talking to him. This was on her, not him. [color=1667aa][b]“Does he, or does he not owe you money? Don’t answer that, I already know the answer.”[/b][/color] He said, before turning his attention over to the kid, the junkie-in-training, on the ground. [color=1667aa][b]“Pay her double.”[/b][/color] Ashton said bluntly, and the kid looked at him as if he were crazy, and Ashton repeated himself. [color=1667aa][b]“Pay. Her. Double.”[/b][/color] Stephen shook his head, and Ashton snarled, walking over to Stephen who scrambled backwards, but Ash was faster, shoving him down and twisting him over to his stomach.

With surprising grace, Ashton frisked Stephen down, withdrawing the kid’s wallet and a few crumpled up bills. He walked back to Quincy, and dug all of the money out of the wallet, a small stack of tens and twenties. He counted it, then gave her two twenties — nothing near what her cut actually was. [color=1667aa][b]“This is what you get. Quincy, I shouldn’t ever have to do your work for you. You understand me? If it happens once, it’s going to happen again. People don’t pay you, means you don’t pay me. You don’t pay me, maybe I come looking for you. Maybe I go off to my own little dreamland,”[/b][/color] Ash said quietly, darkly, before stuffing all of the money into his pants pocket and tossing the wallet over his shoulder.

[color=1667aa][b]“You’re playing with my money, and you play with my money and that means you play with my life. It’s not a game, Quincy. It’s not a game. You’re not playing a game, you’re working. You either quit, or you do the caliber of work I expect,”[/b][/color] while he spoke, Ashton reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette, [color=1667aa][b]“you got a light?”[/b][/color]

This would always be remembered by Quincy Hart as the moment she realized, she was in over her head. Here she was, being threatened by a drug supplier. Because she hadn’t dealt enough drugs. She had no idea what the hell she was doing. But she didn’t stop. At least, not then. That would be a mistake. Quincy dug a lighter out of her pockets and handed it to Ash. [color=ff0066][b]”Threaten my boyfriend again Ashton, and I swear to God, I’ll skip the money entirely,”[/b][/color] Quincy said, as if it was a fact of life. She was scared, but him mentioning A Double? That just made her angry.

Ashton smirked at her as he lit the cigarette. [color=1667aa][b]“Mmm, I do like ‘em feisty.”[/b][/color] He said, tossing the lighter back to her before he turned to walk away. [color=1667aa][b]“Don’t let it happen again, Q. The kid’ll be fine, by the way. He just fell down.”[/b][/color] Ashton had nothing left to say, and he walked away.[/indent]

[right][i]Schooltime[/i]

[color=f473ec][b]Art class[/b][/color][/right]

[indent]Reina drummed her fingers on the table, looking around at the other students in the classroom. They were, for the most part, loud and talkative. She had found that art students often were; being expressive was part of their craft, after all. Art is one way that people express their feelings, or their thoughts. She liked art class, really, she did. She enjoyed the different projects that were made by the students, she liked seeing the outlet for creativity be utilized. Honestly, she loved it.

But it was sometimes too loud.

This? This was one of those times. Reina was fidgeting in the back of the class while everyone else worked on their projects, or chatted about whatever was on their minds, or in some cases: both. She brought her hand up to her face, and bit down on her sweatshirt sleeve, chewing on it absently. She couldn’t focus in this environment! Everyone was too loud. This room was too loud. It was stifling!

She peered down at the canvas in front of her, which had the very base of a lineart sketch on it, framing the face of someone, though the facial details were not yet present. Reina was working on a present for her friend Juno; the canvas would eventually becoming a vibrant painting of the redheaded woman.

Now, though? She was getting no work done and she could feel her anxiety creeping up on herself. This. Sucked.

Art was the one class where Noah didn’t feel an intense desire to disappear. The art classroom was loud, but in all the right ways. Colors leaped from the walls, from the students, from everything. This was where Noah was mean to be. Today, he was working on a large painting of Katie, something he’d both promised her he’d do, but also wanted to do. He’d already finished his sketch, and was just about to dip his brush into paint when he looked over at the girl next to him.

What was her name? Reina? That sounded right. Well, so far, Reina had made very little progress, and he could tell she was somewhat distraught. Her eyes were kind of glued to her canvas, as if she was looking through it, rather than at it. Noah recognized the expression well. He did it all the time. He could practically hear Katie and Joy shouting at him, telling him to stop being a creep and just ask her what was up. Nervously chewing his lip, he leaned over. 

[color=7eff9a][b]“You haven’t done much.”[/b][/color]

The way Reina tore her gaze away from the canvas and turned it to Noah, it seemed like she had seen a ghost, or that Noah may have been Freddy Krueger. She stared at him with wide, doe eyes for a few seconds, before she gave a small, rapidly repeating nod of agreement. Honestly? Boys scared Reina. But, at least this one looked soft — she thought that Ashton could probably beat him up. That? That made her feel safe.

[color=f473ec][b]“Y-yeah… I haven’t, huh? It’s hard to focus here sometimes. It’s really loud…”[/b][/color] She said in a soft voice that was almost inaudible over the loud noises of art class. [color=f473ec][b]“But, uhm… I’m sure I’ll get it done eventually. Usually, I just come into here during lunch. Then it’s… peaceful.”[/b][/color] She explained to the new person. Oh, right! [color=f473ec][b]“I’m Reina. Reina Lockhart. Who are you?”[/b][/color]

Noah looked around the chaotic room, a thoughtful look on his face. [color=7eff9a][b]“Huh. I guess I’ve never really seen it as loud. Just bright.”[/b][/color] Noah turned back to the girl and smiled softly, his own social anxiety creeping back. He wanted to shut up and keep painting, but he knew what everyone in his life would tell him to do. Talk to the pretty girl. [color=7eff9a][b]“I’m Noah. Nichols. Noah Nichols. What are you working on?”[/b][/color]

[color=f473ec][b]“Noah. Noah Nichols.”[/b][/color] Reina repeated after the boy, storing his name and face away for memory. Reina best remembered names after repeating them herself, and after she said his name, she let herself process everything else he’d said. Taking a glance around the room, she nodded. [color=f473ec][b]“Bright… yeah, I think I like that.”[/b][/color]

She tapped the canvas in front of her, before explaining her intent. [color=f473ec][b]“I’m drawing a portrait, of my friend. Juno. I want to paint it, and give it to her. Like, a gift.”[/b][/color]

[color=7eff9a][b]“I’m doing the same thing for mine. I mean, it’s for a friend. Not, of your friend. Obviously.”[/b][/color] Noah stammered, his voice soft and his face flushed. Strangers flustered the boy, and this girl was very much a stranger. 

[color=f473ec][b]“That’s cool… Are your friends nice? You should introduce me.”[/b][/color] Though Reina’s voice did not betray her nervousness, she made a bit of a face, and began to scratch at the long sleeves on her arms. She stopped herself and looked at Noah, before adding, [color=f473ec][b]“You know… if you would like to.”[/b][/color] She didn’t want to impose. Besides, his friends might be scary…

Noah nodded, his own anxiety clear. This was uncharted territory, he hadn’t prepared for the conversation to carry this far. [color=7eff9a][b] “Yeah uhhh totally,”[/b][/color] he said quietly, his eyes darting from Reina, to the floor, to his painting.

Reina let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t [i]that[/i] bad. It wasn’t as easy as talking to Ashton, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. This Noah boy was, well, a boy, but he wasn’t a [i]scary[/i] one. In fact, the adjective that she might have picked to describe him would have been something more like ‘soft.’ With a quick smile, Reina nodded. [color=f473ec][b]“Okay! Here’s my number.”[/b][/color] She scribbled on a piece of her drawing journal, and ripped it out, sliding it across to him. [color=f473ec][b]“Thank you.”[/b][/color]

Noah stammered at the sight of the number and was luckily saved from any further embarrassment by the shrill ring of the bell, marking the end of the period. [color=7eff9a][b] “Okay!”[/b][/color] he shouted, grabbing his bag and darting out of class, his face beet red and his stomach churning. People were hard. He decided he preferred paintings.[/indent]

[right][i]After school[/i]

[color=1667aa][b]Ashton’s[/b][/color] [color=f473ec][b]Car[/b][/color][/right]

[indent][color=f473ec][b]“So, you’re going to a party? On a Tuesday. And I’m staying home alone. On a Tuesday.”[/b][/color] Reina asked, looking at her brother from her seat in the passenger’s side, while parked in front of their apartment complex. Ashton looked at his sister and nodded. He had known this would happen. She wasn’t going to be happy with him leaving her there alone for the night. Tuesdays were puzzle nights.

[color=1667aa][b]“Yes. I’ll be back before you’re awake.”[/b][/color] Ashton said, giving a shrug. What he needed was already in the trunk, he just had to head toward the dock and make the drop. He wished that was all he had to do, but he had been told that he had to hang around for the party, in case he was needed. [color=1667aa][b]“Sorry, Reina. I’d say you could come, but I know you don’t want to.”[/b][/color]

Reina sighed and finally nodded, before giving Ashton a kiss on the cheek and ducking out of the car. [color=f473ec][b]“Be good, and come back alive.”[/b][/color] She tutted, and Ash nodded as Reina ran off into the apartment complex. Ashton shifted the car back into gear, and pulled onto the road.[/indent]

[right][color=1667aa][b]The[/b][/color] [color=0598bc][b]Destiny[/b][/color][/right]

[indent]Ashton parked his car and looked at the massive ship sitting at the dock. He could see only one other vehicle here. He reached down and popped the trunk, before jumping out of the car and walking to the back. He grabbed a duffel bag, full of product. What product? In this case, it was largely a new party drug called ‘Uber.’ Essentially, it was an enhanced version of LSD, or acid — a happy drug. The main difference, what made it ‘Uber,’ rather than just an imitation of those two, was that it did what the others never could quite perfect.

It was incapable of giving a bad trip.

That made it a very, very desirable party drug. Ashton wasn’t sure who it was that wanted this party to be strapped, but they [i]really[/i] did, since he was carrying a duffel bag worth about four hundred thousand dollars, once you added the Uber, the blow, and the weed all together. Ashton chose not to think about it, and instead stepped toward the boarding ramp. He was stopped by two security looking guys, who looked at him, seemed to check their tablets, and then let him without much fuss. Weird. What kind of party was this?

He walked up the ramp, and looked down the ship, toward a stage where one man was sitting, with his sunglasses on as he stared toward nothing and listened to music. That must be Brian. That was who he was delivering to, some rich Helmsley kid. He walked across the ship’s white floors — watching as they lit up in a variety of colors to his every step — and pulled himself onto the stage, dropping the duffel bag in front of him. This caused the music to stop playing, and the boy on the ground to look up, taking his sunglasses off before eyeing the duffel bag. [color=1667aa][b]“Party favors. I don’t know who, but someone out there really likes you, because they told me to stick around, in case you needed help.”[/b][/color] Ashton said, pulling another cigarette out of his pack, alongside a lighter. He lit up and waited for Brian to speak up.

Brian opened up the bag and stared down at the contents, silently. After a few seconds, he nodded, and spoke up. [color=0598bc][b]“Thanks. Help me load this stuff.”[/b][/color] Brian said, picking up the duffel bag, and gesturing for Ashton to follow after him, which he did, puffing on the cigarette.

After ten minutes, the Uber pills, at least, had been set up for distribution. That is to say, Brian and Ashton had loaded the pills into different gumball dispensers throughout the boat, all for easy access for their peers. The rest of it? It remained in the duffel bag, to be distributed by the bartenders upon request. For adults, they seemed very okay with giving alcohol and drugs to minors. Ashton wasn’t one to judge, and had found his way to the edge of the boat, where he was now smoking in silence.

Brian, on the other hand, was sitting on the stage once more, when he noticed a few cars roll up. The first guests of the night, though he already knew who this was. Damian, Damian’s girlfriend (and whoever else Damian brought — he was kind of a magnet), Scott, and AJ. Good, that meant food was here. He’d have a snack while he was locked away in the bridge.[/indent]