The Club

Jason was waiting outside for Rosco to arrive; it had started raining and he was starting to become pretty pissed off at how long Rosco was taking as he was starting to get drenched. He looked around the dark streets of the Bronx, walking around him was no shortage of shady characters. People walked around covered from head to toe in tattoos walking around in groups. In his neighborhood almost everyone was currently a thug, previously a thug, or seriously down on their luck.

The streetlight he was standing under kept flickering, which gave him an ominous feeling. Jason truly only felt safe with a gun, so being outside without one he felt vulnerable.

"Is this idiot going to pick me up or what," Jason thought as he kissed his teeth in frustration.

He instinctively pulled out his phone to see if Rosco had texted him, but of course he hadn't, he was just blowing Jason off and being fashionably late as usual, it was already 30 minutes past when Rosco was supposed to pick him up.

"The only reason I'm even still standing out here is because he's always late, but he never bails," Jason thought to himself, trying to reassure himself that he wasn't waiting outside in the rain in vain.

As he thought that an old beat-up Corolla drove around the corner. You could hear the crappy old speakers pushing out horrible sounding bass from a block away, he shook his head because he knew that obnoxious car was Rosco's. He honestly felt embarassed being seen even entering the car, but nevertheless he approached it because it was his friend's.

As he opened the car door he looked around and sat down, he saw that there was three people in the car, his best friend Rosco, Jamarion, and Kevin. Rosco was an 18-year-old man of Italian descent he stood about 6'1 and was bulging with muscles, to put it in simple terms he was attractive. Jamarion was 5'10 and 18 as well, the shortest member of the group, but he had a full arm sleeve of tattoos, he was overall pretty skinny and was of Haitian descent. Lastly there was Kevin, who was 19 and of Caucasian descent, he stood at around 6 foot flat, and was pretty skinny, he overall had a nerdy vibe about him. This vibe matched his personality as he was the only member of the group to actually go to college.

"Aye, what's up boys," said Jason to all of the people in the car.

"Not much," they replied in unison.

He greeted everyone in the car by dapping them up, and after that they sped off towards the club. They were going to the Nightlife Night Club; this was a club owned by the mafia that was currently extorting Jason for the rest of his drug money, he figured he could kill two birds with one stone and brought the rest of the money he owed with him, figuring he could possibly get a resupply on his product.

Although he was a little afraid to talk with the mafia at the club, he was going to push past it because at the end of the day he still had business to attend to.

"Yo, you awfully quiet back there big dog," said Jamarion.

"My bad, I just got a lot on my mind," said Jason being fully honest with him.

"Nah I get that, you still slanging?" said Jamarion.

"Yeah, I am, that's where my mind is right now," said Jason.

"It's cool bro, just relax and have a fun night though, we haven't seen you in forever," said Jamarion, trying to cheer up his friend.

As they finished their conversation their car rolled up to the entrance of the night club. Rosco parked the car in the lot beside the club and they all walked out feeling like one million bucks. They walked over to where the bouncer was and waited in line.

The line wasn't too long probably only 10-15 people were waiting in front of them, so they took that time to just relax before a likely crazy night.

As he walked up to the bouncer Jason handed him a fake ID, so did the rest of his crew, it was pretty obvious that the collective wasn't 21, but the bouncer couldn't be bothered to care.

As he walked into the club Jason saw a thriving nightlife around him. Men and women were dancing, drinking, talking, and singing. Jason entered with his group, but quickly separated.

"Yo guys, I'll catch you in a few minutes, I have to take care of some business," Jason said.

They collectively said goodbye to him and went to the bar to get the night started. Meanwhile Jason was just worried about his current money issue with the mafia.

Jason walked through the crowd, although it wasn't easy. People were dancing, in his way, some cursed at him when he asked to pass through, and others would step on his feet or nearly trip him.

After making it through the quest that was getting to the back of the club, he approached a locked metal door that had a sliding window, openable only from the other side. He grabbed the metal knocker that was attached to the door and slammed it against the metal behind it three times in a row.

With that a sliding window opened, and Jason could only see the eyes of a male behind the door.

The person behind the door recognized Jason as someone who was affiliated by the mafia, and unlatched the deadbolt, opening the door for Jason to enter.

Behind the door was a group of 10-15 tattooed males, all wearing a business casual outfit. Many were in untucked button-down shirts and had dress pants on. These men exuded an aura that was reminiscent of a predator looking at its prey, and Jason felt like their prey.

As he walked through the crowd of men, he approached someone who looked important at the end of the hallway.

'I better survive this, after all my luck is finally starting to turn around,' Jason thought to himself.

After a few seconds he was in front of the "important" man. This man was an enforcer for the local mafia, he went by the name Sleepy, which was because he was always so under the influence of something he looked like his eyes were closed. In contrast to the men around him he was pretty scrawny, standing at 6'0 but weighing only 145 pounds. He had tattoos from the top of his head to the bottom of it, which was not very common for mafia members, specifically his face tattoos. This was because before entering the mafia, he was in both a prison and a street gang.

"Hey, I've got your boss's money, Sleepy," said Jason, putting on his tough guy persona for Sleepy.

"Yeah, well show it here, and remember it's my money, not his. He just makes sure I get it," Sleepy replied with a sinister smirk.

Jason was smart enough to understand that this last statement was a rhetorical one, and grabbed the 500 dollars out of his pocket setting it down on the table.

"500 dinero, right there," said Jason.

'They better let me go after this'

Jason was starting to get anxious from the stairs of the men around him, he also felt vulnerable because he entered into the club with only a knife, and he knew there wasn't a single person present in the room without a gun, besides him of course.

"Alright, seems good to me, here's your supply for the next week, this time don't be f***ing late or else you'll make me add another tattoo to my face," said Sleepy pointing to a multitude of teardrops, embedded into his skin with black ink.

He grabbed a brick of a white powder from behind him and poured it out into a smaller plastic bag and set it on a scale. The scale read 28 grams, and he grabbed the bag and threw it at Jason.

"Think fast, buddy, don't get yourself killed on these streets," said Sleepy, waving to his men to guide Jason out to the door.

After this altercation Jason found himself back in the club.

'Well, that went a lot better than I thought it would go'

Now Jason's new mission was looking around for his friends, he didn't know where they had gone in the club.

As he started to look around Jason heard his phone go off, indicating that he had just received a notification.