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“So.”
Silence. All that could be heard in the back alley of the town theatre, where the rats squealed and scampered away to hide behind the trash bags, was pure silence.
Vinnie squirmed against the alley wall, fidgeting with the plastic bag held by his side, out of view from the advancing figure coming towards him and his best friend, Shane.
Simon Austin, nationwide popstar sensation - or basically, the heartthrob of every wannabe singer in the country - was walking towards them, sleek black wallet in one hand, while the other remained in his high-waisted pants pocket. The man wore his signature white dress shirt, with no tie in sight on him. He was intimidating. Powerful. Rich.
The two boys only cared about that last part.
“So,” Simon Austin repeated, halting his swag-infested stride and facing the two, keeping a safe distance, “do you have it?” he asked.
Vinnie looked to Shane who was leaning against the wall beside him, and motioned for the taller one to speak. Vinnie nodded to his friend, cleared his throat, and turned to the older man.
“Yeah,” He replied, “Yeah man, we got it. Do you have what we want?”
Austin paused for a moment and quickly looked over his shoulder, peering out of the alley and into the street of Vinnie and Shane’s hometown. He glances back and forth between the boys and the alleyway entrance, before finally training his eyes on the teenagers and begins to open his wallet.
“Yes, I do have it.” He pulls out a wad of folded cash and offers it to the duo, arm outstretched as far as it would go. From his position, Vinnie can see that the money folded on the outside are twenty dollar bills. Jackpot, he thinks.
Vinnie takes one final look at Shane for final confirmation then inside the bag to check that the recycled plastic bottle filled with their secret cargo is still there, before taking a step towards the talent agent, handing him the bag, and quickly snatching the cash before Austin can change his mind about the deal. Shane peers over his shoulder as Vinnie begins to unfold the money, rapidly counting all of the dollar bills. Austin, however quickly looks inside the bag handed to him by the taller teenage boy, nods, and looks back up; a suspiciously large smirk on his face.
“Pleasure doing business with you, boys.” He drawls, tucking his wallet into the back pocket of his pants, looking as if he’s ready to walk away.
Out of the corner of his eye, Vinnie can see Shane silently glaring at Austin, and he can’t figure out why-
Until he finally finished counting the money.
“DUDE!” Vinnie shouts, whipping up to face Austin, angrily gripping the cash in his hands. “This isn’t enough for what we gave you! You’re ripping us off!”
The agent laughs, moving to escape the scene of the crime. “Oh? And who are you going to complain to?” He draws up the hand not occupied by the plastic bag, jerking his thumb in his own direction. “Can’t touch this.”
And with that, Simon Austin walks out of the alley, clutching the plastic bag full of treasure and chuckling to himself. Vinnie feels he’s about ready to rip this guy's spine out; but Shane grabs his arm, shaking his head.
“Wha- Shane? You JUST saw what he did, right? He totally ripped us off! That middle-aged loser just took half our stash of-” he lowers his voice significantly, “- grade-A green, man, and you’re just gonna let him walk? I thought you were better than that!”
Shane makes a face, as if to convey that he feels exhausted but somehow smug, and simply says:
“Patience is man’s best virtue. Time will run its course.”
-
“You did WHAT?!”
An hour later, they’re in Mark's house, all cramped together on the couch watching Patrick try his luck at Zelda on the Game Boy that Mark somehow has. Probably a weird Christmas gift from Shannon or something. Vinnie had explained the day’s prior events, and Mark - unrightfully so, in Vinnie's opinion - decided to chew out the duo, instead of valiantly defending their honour.
“Look, man, it’s not a permanent career, it’s just a thing Shane and I do for extra cash for college-” Vinnie starts, but is interrupted by Mark’s continuing tirade.
“Damn right it’s not a permanent career! You two are messing with some serious stuff here, and could literally get arrested! You can’t play around with this stuff, man!”
At this point, Patrick turns towards the trio. “Mark. Dude. You’re throwing me off my groove.” He warns, but then adds, “Also, you know how these two guys are; chewing them out for something is only gonna want to make them do it even more.” Patrick turns back to the console, returning to his rapid button-smashing.
Mark sighs and lifts his glasses up to rub his eyes, circling them with his fingers. Vinnie’s sure that he’s gonna end up making them turn red from the constant irritation. “... Right, right. Whatever.” He lowers them back down onto his nose and turns to the quiet member of their group. “ Shane, buddy, you haven’t said anything since you and Vinnie got here - what’s up?”
Before Shane can answer, the phone mounted on Mark’s kitchen wall starts blaring, being heard from the couch in the living room where the boys are.
Mark sighs and pushes himself off of the couch. “Gimme a sec’.”, making his way to the kitchen. Vinnie can hear Mark mumble under his breath “Better not be Shannon prank calling me again..” and he snickers quietly.
A few seconds go by, and the boys can hear the clicking of the phone being picked up, and Mark beginning to address the caller - but is swiftly cut off by muffled shouting.
“YOU BASTARD!”
Patrick and Vinnie jump up in surprise, slowly followed by Shane’s delayed response of his head slightly inclining upwards and towards the kitchen door. All three of them look at each other, then stumble quickly to the other room.
“Hold on man- hold on! Who the hell is this?” Mark questions, holding the phone a good few centimeters away from his face to restrict any further hearing damage.
“THIS IS FAKE! THIS WEED ISN’T THE REAL DEAL! YOU BOYS REALLY MUST NOT KNOW WHO YOU’RE DEALING WITH, BECAUSE I CAN END THE FUTURES OF EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU LITTLE BASTARDS-”
The realisation suddenly sinks in for Vinnie. The voice on the other end of the phone is Simon. Motherfucking. Austin.
Just as the boys are about to voice their panic over the biggest talent agent in the country screaming at them over this call, Shane grabs the phone and calmly but swiftly hangs it back up on the wall. The room goes silent.
All eyes turn to the mute of their group. Mark looks shell-shocked. Patrick’s bewildered. Vinnie is so damn confused. Shane just grins and pulls out a recycled plastic bottle, filled to the brim with pure, emerald-green weed. There’s a label on the bottle that reads ‘The Real Deal’.
“Time ran its course, dear friend.” is all that he says.
Silence. Just pure, unadulterated silence. Then-
“How the FUCK does SIMON AUSTIN know my PHONE NUMBER?"