The smell of cigarettes was the first thing Cairo noticed when he stepped into the smoke-filled room. The odor even seemed to permeate off of the walls, the furniture, the people; anyone and anything that had a surface area did not escape its stink.

As Cairo makes his way through the nightclub, he couldn’t help but tense up from the close proximities he was from the other guests. Cairo had never liked crowds. It made him tense, uncomfortable, almost angry as he stares cautiously at all the faces surrounding him. He had come to this party not to have a good time, but because someone was a customer that had to be personally served.

Cairo silently hoped all of this was worth it. He lost his sense of “fun” a long time ago. Now this setting, this scene, with all its flashing lights and loud music did not sway him or make him want to stay in any way.

“Oh shit,” a voice suddenly blurts out.

Cairo turns around in mild surprise, recognizing the voice.

“What are you doing here Cairo?” Ricky asks.

Cairo watches impassively as his friend sparks up a joint. The smell of the plant lingers in the air, a stark contrast to all the tobacco in their atmosphere.

“Was dropping off a sale,” Cairo replies. Just as he was supposed to say more, another voice pierces through all the heavy chatter.

“Look, look, look,” it began, “someone has to tell Cairo that he’s no badass.”

Cairo stares dumbfounded at the origin of the voice. A man, no, a boy, not much younger then him by the looks of it, was mouthing off in a confident demeanor to Fever. Ignoring at the moment why Fever was at a party, Cairo could hardly believe that this new face had the audacity to say something so outrageously insulting.

“Say Ricky,” Cairo slowly begins, “Who’s that stranger Fever’s talking to? He’s got a lot of nerve running his mouth here.”

Ricky inhales deeply as he glares at the man Cairo nodded towards.

“That fucker would be Altoid,” Ricky answers as smoke trickles out of his nostrils, “He’s the one who’s been robbing houses up and down the Suburbs. Cops can’t catch him because-”

“They’re here dealing with us.”

Cairo finishes Ricky’s sentence. It made sense how Metrocity’s police, despite being overstaffed, could not spare manpower to protect one of the richest districts in the city. The Eastern Banks of the city literally ate the majority of the police force with constant riots and strikes, while the rest were siphoned dealing with Cairo’s own illegal activities.

“Where has he been staying at?” Cairo continues to ask.

“He says he’s been sleeping over at Victoria’s,” Ricky scoffs, “But I don’t believe him one bit. I mean what kind of girl would want to be around that ugly motherfucker?”

Cairo smirks. Altoid certainly was very unattractive. The man’s pale skin radiated “sickly”. Throw some glitter on him and he might as well be been a poster child of a bad vampire parody. Altoid’s haircut, a faded lineup Cairo guesses, was horribly botched. There were even spots where the barber missed and didn’t go back to correct. The sloppy way he dressed, the twitchy way he spoke, and the bruises and cuts that persists and never healed… The man literally radiated fiend.

Thanking Ricky, Cairo prepares to join Fever in the conversation. He had gotten all the information he needed. Even if he didn’t promise Lance, Altoid’s reckless outburst was enough to warrant affirmative actions.

“Who’s your new friend here?”

Cairo could see the fear on Fever’s face. Puzzled, Cairo steals a glance at the table… And sees why. Long scores of powdered lines and shattered glasslike substance marathon the table as the lines crisscross through the value of food and alcohol crowding the table.

“Relax,” Cairo says when he sees Fever getting up. Cairo throws his palm at his face telling his friend to sit back down. “I’m not here for your money right now.”

Cairo was seething, but it could wait.

“I came because I heard your friend does some serious dirt.”

Cairo watches as Altoid, unfazed and ignoring his obvious goading, bends his head near the table and sticks a straw far up his nostrils. With an audible sniff, Altoid inhales two scores of dope lined parallel against each other in front of him.

Wiping his nose, Altoid then dryly says, “What of it?”

“I’m shorthanded with a delivery I need to make tonight,” Cairo chirps, “I could use an extra hand.”

“Oh?” Altoid suddenly excitedly blurts, “How much are we going to move?”

“A couple kilos.”

“What’s the catch,” Altoid suspiciously asks.

“Excuse me?”

Cairo narrows his eyes.

“This isn’t a scam,” he continues, “It’s an offer. An offer where you scratch my back-”

Cairo reaches down and grabs the empty lightbulb resting on the mahogany table. The still warm glass tells him enough that they have been using.

“And I’ll forget about what you did in the Suburbs.”

Altoid silently stares at him. Cairo could almost hear the mouse in the man’s head rapidly spinning its wheel. Is it legit? Is there really that many products? How much can I get out of it? Can’t I just rob him? What are my chances? What if I’m being set up?

Cairo lets the fiend continue to ponder. He had noticed earlier that Samantha had made herself comfortable around Fever. Hiding his surprise, Cairo quietly says nothing as Samantha rubs her delicate hands from Fever’s shoulder down to his chest.

The flustered expression on Fever’s face was enough to make even the most jaded person vomit. It was disgustingly comedic how Fever’s drug infused desires were overcoming his self-restraint. If Ricky, just in the other room, saw this it would’ve been for him.

“You’re not going to serve her?” Cairo nonchalantly says, hiding his surprise at the scene. He knew exactly what Samantha wanted and it frustrated him. Yet, as Cairo glares dangerously at Fever, it had to be done. There was a plan that needed to be put in motion.

“But-” Fever protests.

“You should go see what she wants… Now.”

Fever hurriedly allows himself to be dragged away by a smiling Samantha as they exit through a pair of giant indigo doors. Altoid must’ve approved of the scene as he suddenly slams his drink down onto the table before confidently exclaiming, “let’s go”.

The air was chilly, the ground frozen solid, the temperature cold enough to freeze spit in a matter of seconds. Cairo shoves his stiff hands into his pocket as he braves himself against the ice-cold breeze cutting across his bare face. From the look of things, it seems that Altoid himself wasn’t faring much better as the man desperately blows hot air into the palm of his hands.

“I was wrong about you,” Altoid abruptly announces.

“How so?” Cairo responds. It was a familiar declaration he heard so many times before from other newcomers. Outcasts, from far and beyond, always flock to the West Garden area expecting it to be a haven. An untouched virgin so to speak where the naïve population are ripe for spoiling.

“I used to put in work for the Syndicate when I lived in the East Bank. The Gardens can’t even compare to what I went through back home.”

Altoid looks up at the dark sky as his face softens,

“It’s nice to know that someone’s giving me a second chance here,” he finally finishes.

Cairo smiles. Feigning understanding, he drapes his arm around Altoid’s neck.

“This is a forgiving place,” Cairo sentimentally starts, “I’ve always had respect for you folks across the river. You’re always welcomed here.”

“Thank you,” Altoid says flustered. The grateful look of relief on Altoid’s face was worthy of a thousand pictures.

Cairo leads them around the corner into the entrance of a corridor. The two enormous buildings flanking both side made the scene almost ominous under the star lit sky, yet Altoid showed no fear or apprehension at the setting. Perfect, Cairo thought. Altoid felt safe around him.

“Go on first,” Cairo lies, “I need to tie my laces.”

Altoid nods as he struts into the darkness.

Cairo watches carefully until Altoid was at least a few feet away from him. Far enough not to accidentally catch a glimpse of him picking up an empty glass bottle. Far enough to miss Cairo getting up with a new expression portrayed on his face. Far enough not to hear the glass bottle being risen. Far enough for Altoid to notice too late as Cairo brings the bottle down to connect with the fiend’s head.

A sickening crunch follows the ear-piercing crack as the bottle shatters upon impact. A strange gurgled yelp protrudes from Altoid’s throat as his body falls to ground like a plank of wood. Cairo wastes no time. Straddling on top of Altoid, he takes what remains of the bottle and lunges the sharp ends of the glass into his victim’s body.

What was once Altoid now remains motionless as Cairo takes one last look at the body lying in the grease stained pavement. He grimaces before spitting at the carcass. There was no need to get personal, but Cairo still couldn’t help becoming heated when he does something like this. Throwing his now defunct weapon into a nearby trash can, Cairo carefully wipes himself off before making his way back to the nightclub. He had made sure to not have made too big of a mess on himself.

It was even more crowded by the time Cairo got back to the building. As Cairo closes the metallic door behind him, he notices automatically the lack of noise. It was deathly silent, as if a suppressed atmosphere had descended over the entire room. Looking across, Cairo could see why.

Shoving his way through the large crowd that had congregated, Cairo could see Ricky furiously holding Fever at gunpoint. The incensed look on Ricky’s face was enough to tell Cairo that his friend was about to lose all sense of restraint.

“You think it’s funny selling crystal to her?” Ricky says alarmingly calmly.

Fever cowers against the wall.

“What’s going on?” Cairo asks.

“I caught Samantha with dope.” Ricky angrily screams, “She said she got it from him.”

Ricky reaches over and grabs the terrified Fever by the color.

“You know she’s pregnant!”

Cairo quickly puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Ricky, calm down. I’ll take care of him.”

Ricky glances at Cairo as he ponders for a moment. Cairo could see the man struggling to contain himself. The drug and alcohol infused night was enough to send even the most docile individual wilding out. He didn’t want to think about the chances that Ricky was going to say, “fuck this” and snap.

Thankfully, Cairo sees his friend’s eyes shift away back towards Fever. The exasperated expression was still there, but the passionate wide-eyed gaze that precluded the vacant aftermath was gone. It was a crisis avoided.

Ricky grabs his pistol by the barrel before crashing it down onto Fever’s cheek. Fever’s head seem to just ragdoll from the impact. It was almost surreal if not for the commotion Ricky was causing as he storms out of the scene.

Cairo sighs. He was going to have to clean up this mess now. What if he had decided to skip tonight’s location like he contemplated in the first place?

“It’s okay,” Cairo consoles. Fever had already crawled up into a ball and was desperately trying not to break down sobbing.

“I was trying to get your money,” he stutters in-between labored gasps.

Cairo bends down. The black bruise on Fever’s cheek where Ricky had struck him earlier was pulsating. Cairo silently guesses how long it would take before it completely healed.

“Listen, listen, listen,” Cairo comforts, “I don’t give a fuck.”

Fever freezes.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t screw things up in the first place…”

Cairo walks over to the table and grabs the collection of empty dime bags littering on top of the tabletop. Cairo knew his friend was using the product he was supposed to sell. He had the suspicion ever since the boy began losing weight and coming up short during collection. Tonight, was just the confirmation. The nail in the coffin.

You don’t smoke my dope,” Cairo continues, “You don’t lend my money, and you don’t have fun until I have everything owed returned.”

Cairo releases his fingers and lets the dirtied bags float to the ground.

“I don’t give a damn if you have to steal your parent’s wedding ring. You will get me my money.”

“I’ll-” Fever stutters, “I will.”

Cairo smiles. He lights up a cigarette and enjoys the nicotine flowing throughout his system. He could sense some of the people sitting at the bar in front of him looking curiously at the scene.

“What the fuck are you all looking at?” he threateningly says.

All eyes suddenly look away as their owners found themselves something else to do.

Cairo shakes his head before he finally pours himself a drink.