Chapter Text
Moving sucked.
Wemmbu stood in the middle of his new room and looked around.
The room was bigger than his entire old apartment.
Not that he cared.
His desk was already set up.
His computer was already plugged in.
His clothes were already in the wardrobe.
Everything else could stay in boxes for all he cared.
Outside the massive window, he could see the neighborhood stretching down the hill. Clean streets. Expensive houses. Perfect lawns.
It looked fake.
“Dad, do we really need all this space?” he shouted.
From somewhere downstairs, Minute answered.
“It’s part of the job!”
That wasn’t an answer.
Minute’s new position paid absurdly well.
Apparently well enough for a three-story house with a pool and a garage bigger than some apartments.
Wemmbu flopped onto his bed.
He hated moving.
Not because he’d miss anyone.
He didn’t really have friends he was leaving behind.
No.
The annoying part was everything else.
Learning a new city.
Learning new streets.
Learning new people.
And most importantly—
Finding a new dealer.
His old one had disappeared.
Just vanished.
Nobody knew where he went.
Nobody knew if he moved away.
Nobody knew if something happened to him.
People talked about it like it was some huge mystery.
Wemmbu honestly didn’t care.
Not about the dealer himself, anyway.
But losing a reliable source right before moving?
That was incredibly inconvenient.
He stared at his ceiling.
Then sat up.
Well.
No point complaining.
Might as well solve the problem.
⸻
Finding information wasn’t difficult.
People always talked.
Especially teenagers.
A few online forums.
A few messages.
A few questions asked in the right places.
Eventually a pattern started appearing.
One name.
Well.
Not a name.
A reputation.
A dealer nobody knew.
Nobody knew his face.
Nobody knew where he lived.
Nobody knew how old he was.
But everyone seemed to know where to find him.
And everyone agreed on two things.
His stuff was good.
And he was weird.
That sounded promising.
⸻
The meeting place turned out to be an abandoned basketball court.
Very dramatic.
Wemmbu arrived shortly before sunset.
The court was empty.
Cracked asphalt.
Rusting hoops.
Graffiti covering every available surface.
For a moment he wondered if he’d been tricked.
Then footsteps echoed across the court.
Someone stepped out from behind the fence.
Black hoodie.
Dark pants.
Gloves.
Face partially hidden beneath the hood.
Wemmbu blinked.
Okay.
Not what he expected.
His second thought wasn’t much better.
He’s kinda hot.
The guy was tall.
Good posture.
Broad shoulders.
Confident.
Annoyingly attractive, honestly.
Then he spoke.
“You’re looking for me?”
The voice caught Wemmbu off guard.
It sounded strange.
Not robotic.
Not fake.
Just slightly different somehow.
Like he was intentionally hiding his real voice.
“Depends,” Wemmbu said.
The dealer laughed.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“I literally found you.”
“Fair point.”
The dealer crossed his arms.
“Wemmbu, right?”
Wemmbu froze.
“How do you know that?”
“You asked around.”
“…”
“People talk.”
Fair enough.
The dealer studied him for a moment.
Not in a threatening way.
In an interested way.
Like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
It was weird.
“You’re younger than I expected.”
“So are you.”
The dealer laughed again.
“Fair.”
For a few seconds neither of them spoke.
Then the dealer nodded.
“I can sell to you.”
“Great.”
“But I have rules.”
Wemmbu immediately frowned.
“Rules?”
“Rules.”
“What kind of dealer has rules?”
“The kind who likes having customers.”
“…okay.”
The dealer held up one finger.
“Rule number one.”
“There’s more than one?”
“Technically.”
Wemmbu groaned.
The dealer ignored him.
“Your first purchase gets smoked with me.”
“What?”
“Your first purchase gets smoked with me.”
“Why?”
The dealer shrugged.
“I like observing people.”
“That’s weird.”
“I know.”
“No, seriously. That’s really weird.”
“I know.”
“Like genuinely concerning.”
“I know.”
Wemmbu stared at him.
The dealer stared back.
Eventually Wemmbu sighed.
“Fine.”
The weed was cheap.
That was what mattered.
The dealer gestured toward the edge of the court.
“Sit.”
⸻
A little while later, they were sitting on the cracked concrete beside the fence.
The sky had turned orange.
The city lights were beginning to appear.
Wemmbu noticed something.
The dealer hadn’t touched anything.
Not once.
“You don’t smoke?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Then why sell it?”
The dealer thought for a moment.
“I find people interesting.”
Wemmbu immediately rolled his eyes.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
The dealer laughed.
“I like seeing how different people react.”
“To being high?”
“To everything.”
“That’s still weird.”
“Probably.”
Wemmbu took another hit.
The tension in his shoulders slowly loosened.
His thoughts felt softer.
More distant.
The dealer watched him carefully.
Not judging.
Not approving.
Just observing.
Like some scientist watching an experiment.
“How do you feel?” the dealer asked.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Relaxed.”
The dealer nodded.
“Anything else?”
Wemmbu shrugged.
“Everything’s quieter.”
“Hm.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The hm.”
The dealer laughed.
“What about it?”
“You keep doing it.”
“I know.”
“It’s annoying.”
“Hm.”
Wemmbu threw a pebble at him.
The dealer dodged it effortlessly.
For some reason that made both of them laugh.
The dealer leaned back.
“What are you usually thinking about?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether something is worth caring about.”
The dealer seemed interested.
“And most things aren’t?”
“Nope.”
“Hm.”
“There it is again.”
The dealer grinned beneath the hood.
At least Wemmbu thought he did.
The face was still mostly hidden.
“You’re hard to read.”
“Good.”
The dealer tilted his head.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The evening breeze moved through the empty court.
Then the dealer quietly asked,
“Are you happy?”
Wemmbu blinked.
“What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one.”
He thought about it.
For maybe two seconds.
Then shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
The dealer looked at him for a long moment.
“Hm.”
“Stop.”
The dealer laughed.
⸻
The rest of summer passed surprisingly fast.
The new house slowly became familiar.
The city became less confusing.
And every now and then, Wemmbu found himself returning to the old basketball court.
Sometimes for a purchase.
Sometimes just because the conversations were oddly entertaining.
The dealer remained a mystery.
No name.
No face.
No explanations.
Just questions.
Always questions.
⸻
Eventually summer ended.
The first day of school arrived.
Wemmbu stood in front of the massive school building and stared up at it.
Hundreds of students were already entering through the gates.
Talking.
Laughing.
Running around.
A fresh start.
A new city.
A new school.
And a whole lot of people he didn’t care about.
He adjusted his backpack.
“This is gonna suck.”
Then he walked through the front gates.
Completely unaware that someone inside already knew exactly who he was.