Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Prologue
"I got Frank outta that damn house, but he's got so many fucken problems. His medical bills are crazy and this apartment I'm in now ain't fucken cheap. I can't figure out what to do." I admitted, resting my head on the hand that held my drink up. Admitting to Roger that I had a problem here wasn't hard. We'd been pretty good friends since highschool and I trust him not to laugh at me for being poor as dirt.
"'Ight Gee. I don't know how you're gonna take this, but I gotta idea." He said, leaning over the table slightly and searching for my eyes to make contact. "You ain't gotta college degree and if we're bein' honest nobody from round here gets any fancy fuckin' degrees or none of that shit. You though, you, you're fuckin' savvy. You got this crazy fuckin' brain on your shoulders. You'd be good for business."
"You just said there isn't a way I'm gettin' into college." I retorted, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Gotta let me finish, G." He said, and leaned closer, peering to one side and then the other. "A business that's ah... A little less than legal business." His voice was quiet, but this didn't keep the knots from forming in my stomach. He was quiet, but certainly not quiet enough.
"What?!" I hissed urgently, looking around at the few other patrons of the tavern. "Are you fucken nuts? Why the fuck... Do you know how many people coulda fucken heard that?"
"Ah cool it. Nobody fuckin' heard." He plopped back down in his seat, waving a dismissive hand at me and rolling his eyes. "I'm serious though."
"I never said I didn't think that actually wasn't your stupid suggestion." I snapped.
"You'd make ah great dealer." He shrugged.
"You shut your mouth. That's fucken stupid." I crossed my arms and furrowed my eyebrows.
"A kilogram of cocaine goes for over fucking 27,000 dollars in Newark... A pound of meth goes for over 9,500 dollars... You could make a lot of serious fucking profit dealing."
"You can not be fucken serious. Are you using? Is that why ya actin' so fucken crazy?"
"No fuck you, I ain't crazy. I'm just lookin for a guy to deal with."
A/N:
This is the prologue, just a little bit of the story I'm about to do. It will be a very long time until you see more though.
Please tell me what you think so far! Leave a rating or review please!
Hey, you could even read my fic A Crossing of Man and the Gods if your book stomach is not yet satisfied.
"I got Frank outta that damn house, but he's got so many fucken problems. His medical bills are crazy and this apartment I'm in now ain't fucken cheap. I can't figure out what to do." I admitted, resting my head on the hand that held my drink up. Admitting to Roger that I had a problem here wasn't hard. We'd been pretty good friends since highschool and I trust him not to laugh at me for being poor as dirt.
"'Ight Gee. I don't know how you're gonna take this, but I gotta idea." He said, leaning over the table slightly and searching for my eyes to make contact. "You ain't gotta college degree and if we're bein' honest nobody from round here gets any fancy fuckin' degrees or none of that shit. You though, you, you're fuckin' savvy. You got this crazy fuckin' brain on your shoulders. You'd be good for business."
"You just said there isn't a way I'm gettin' into college." I retorted, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Gotta let me finish, G." He said, and leaned closer, peering to one side and then the other. "A business that's ah... A little less than legal business." His voice was quiet, but this didn't keep the knots from forming in my stomach. He was quiet, but certainly not quiet enough.
"What?!" I hissed urgently, looking around at the few other patrons of the tavern. "Are you fucken nuts? Why the fuck... Do you know how many people coulda fucken heard that?"
"Ah cool it. Nobody fuckin' heard." He plopped back down in his seat, waving a dismissive hand at me and rolling his eyes. "I'm serious though."
"I never said I didn't think that actually wasn't your stupid suggestion." I snapped.
"You'd make ah great dealer." He shrugged.
"You shut your mouth. That's fucken stupid." I crossed my arms and furrowed my eyebrows.
"A kilogram of cocaine goes for over fucking 27,000 dollars in Newark... A pound of meth goes for over 9,500 dollars... You could make a lot of serious fucking profit dealing."
"You can not be fucken serious. Are you using? Is that why ya actin' so fucken crazy?"
"No fuck you, I ain't crazy. I'm just lookin for a guy to deal with."
A/N:
This is the prologue, just a little bit of the story I'm about to do. It will be a very long time until you see more though.
Please tell me what you think so far! Leave a rating or review please!
Hey, you could even read my fic A Crossing of Man and the Gods if your book stomach is not yet satisfied.
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