Celestia and DealerAnon Pt. 6

>The day is getting darker as you head towards the liquor store
>Vagrants and crackheads litter the streets, some drinking wine from bottles wrapped in paper bags, others warming themselves in front of trashcan fires
>Man, Slateside's really gone downhill since you first moved here
>Pulling your hood up, you pick up the pace as the first snowflakes start to fall, already coating the sidewalks and roofs
>A short walk later, you find yourself in front of the store
>The usual collection of panhandling hobos is assembled in front of the brightly-lit shop, most sucking on hand-rolled dog ends
>The cars parked nearby are the usual collection of rusty rattletraps, except for a newly waxed red sixth-generation Impala
>It's definitely something, and not a type car you see around very often
>It's got to cost a fortune to maintain, and with good reason
>Nevertheless, it's beautiful, radiating some of that old-school charm that's so hard to come by nowadays
>You lean against the wall and pull out your phone, typing in the now-familiar number
>A couple short beeps later, he picks up
>''Ey, this Anon?''
''Yep, I'm outside the store. The Impala yours?''
>He chuckles
>''One and only, bro. Wanna jump in?''
>You see the car's window opening, a twenty-something Latino man waving at you from inside
>You wave back and end the call, taking off rapidly towards the vehicle
>While you walk, you mentally double-check everything
>Weed? Check
>Gun? Check
>Badass swagger? Double check
>Pimp-limping to the car, you jump in and shake the owner's hand
''Hey man, what's up? This a damn pretty car you got.''
>He chuckles and runs his fingers lovingly across the dashboard, as if checking for dust
>''Yeah bro, doesn't come cheap though. If I'd spent half the time I've used on cleaning this beaut up on playing guitar, I'd be touring Europe by now.''
>He looks wistfully outside, as if lost in time
>After a moment, you decide to break the silence
''So, dude, you new in Slateside? Ain't ever seen your car around these parts before.''
>''Yeah bro, just moved in last week.''
''Alright, so why Slateside?''
>He shrugs noncommittally
>''Had to move in somewhere, eh? My moms kicked me out couple weeks ago with nothing but the clothes I could fit in the trunk and the keys to the car.''
''Shit man, that's rough. Why she kick you out, though?''
>He shrugs again, this time with a slight grin
>''Said I'm taking too much after my pops. Said she don't want me under her roof unless I clean up my act.''
''Shit man, what did you dad do to her?''
>''It's not what he's done, it's more what he don't do. I don't blame him though, kinda hard to be there for your kids when you're in the state pen.''
''Oh shit bro, that's rough. What he in for?''
>He chuckles
>''Murder, first degree. Life, no parole.''
>You grimace, and hope that this guy doesn't take that much after his father
''Shiieet son. Who'd he kill?''
>''Found out one of his crew was undercover. Word is, they nailed him to the floor and cut him up, starting from the legs and arms.''
''Whoa. 187 on an undercover cop, huh? I can get behind that.''
>Or maybe not
>He chuckles and gives you a big grin
''Anyway, as a welcoming gift from me to you, I'm willing to smoke you out. Wanna blaze?"
>''Sure man, why the fuck not. My place or yours?''
''Yours man, I got someone staying at my place already and I don't really trust her.''
>He starts the car with a frown
>''Why? She undercover or something?''
>You shake your head with a distasteful look
''Nah. She's just a civvie, but I don't want her running her mouth.''
>''Well, she give you any shit you just call me, eh? Maybe she just needs to get nailed.''
>He erupts into laughter and you follow suit
''You mean literally?''
>''Maybe.''
>Santiago pops in a CD as you cruise, the familiar song reminding you of your youth
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_wKIq7KYZo
>Despite your laughter, you can't shake the feeling that this guy's dangerous
>The rest of your drive is filled with idle banter

''So anyway, this rainbow-haired chucklefuck comes up to me like she talk the talk and walk the walk, but you can see that she's, like, you know-''
>You blow out a heavy cloud of smoke and pass the joint to Santiago
>''Posturing, eh?''
>He sucks on the roach with a thoughtful look on his face
''Yeah, it's like, you could see that she wasn't for real, you know? Like she was putting on an act or some shit.''
>Santiago passes the roach back to you, and blows a couple of smoke rings, the blue smoke filling the small balcony
>''Yeah ese, but bitches always be like that, you know?''
>He spits and chuckles to himself
>You don't blame him, you're feeling pretty high yourself
>''I mean, it's always like they say to a brother that they wanna get into the game and shit, but all they do is smoke cock and shit, you know?''
''Yeeaah, I know what you mean. Fuck bitches, bro.''
>''That's what I'm saying, homes. I mean sure, they good for pump-and-dump shit, but living with one? Hell naw.''
''Yeah man, I know what you mean. I mean, my old fucking principal is staying at my place right now.''
>He raises an eyebrow and chuckles
>''No shit? What's she doin' there?''
''Lost her job and her house or some shit. But, fucking women, man. She's been there for like twelve hours now, and I'm already sick of her.''
>''How come? What she do, homes?''
''It's like, I've done so much for her, man. Her bank account got frozen, so I had to pay for her fucking menstrual pads or something. Then, after we come home, she's just fucking raging at me and trying to call her sister and panicking and all that shit.''
>You take a final drag and put out the joint
''I mean, I paid for like a hundred's worth of stuff, and she just like, like she doesn't even give a fuck.''
>''Women.''
''Yeah. Anyway, she passed out on the couch last I saw her so I'll probably get to be in peace for a while, at least.''
>You smirk and head inside with your new friend/customer
''At least she can cook and looks good.''
>''Aight, but if she act like that, how come you don't throw her ass out?''
>You take a seat on the couch, savoring the sensation of the pillows pressed to your back as Santiago fiddles with the sound system
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SUfU3c2a7hU
''It's just, well, I don't know, man. You know, she's still a family friend, and she helped me out of some bad spots during High School.''
>''You turning soft on me, man?''
>He chuckles and gives you a big grin
>''I got a couple forties in the fridge. Want one?''
>You feel like you might need it
''Sure bro, thanks. You wanna go smoke more?''
>''Sheeit, it's your stuff bro, so I'm game. Thanks.''
''No problem, man.''
>You flash him a small smile and get to work on a new spliff as he heads to the fridge
>Today's gonna be a good day

>As you sit on the couch and cradle the frosty forty-ounce, you notice that you feel absolutely amazing
>Santiago is practically passed out next to you, the only movement from his side is his head bobbing to the music
>You can't help but grin, the music's getting to you too
>Maybe smoking two joints in rapid succession wasn't such a good idea, but you don't really care
>In a word, you're blazed
''Hey Santiago?''
>''Hmmh?''
''They have this kind of stuff where you come from?''
>''Nah man, I mean, LA's got some mad dope but, sheeit homes, didn't know they grew shit like this, man.''
>He chuckles to himself, and you soon find yourself laughing along
''Come on, bro, what's so funny?''
>You ask in between fits of laughter
>His reply is broken up by too much laughter to understand
>After several minutes of hysterical giggling, you both finally calm down
''Welcome to Slateside, man.''
>He smiles at you and takes off his bandanna
>''Thanks homes. Anyway-''
>He rises slowly, like a tree falling in reverse, and takes out his wallet
>''How much I owe you, man?''
''Well, one gee goes for twenty normally, but you're a chill motherfucker, so fifteen per gee is fine by me.''
>''Shit vato, that cheap?''
''Only for good people like you.''
>He grins as you pull out five baggies from your back pocket
>Some quick hand artistry later you shove 75 dollars into your wallet and he starts appreciatively eyeing the baggies in his hand
>''Hey vato, I can't thank you enough for this, for real man. Thought I was gonna have to live without sweet Mary for a while.''
''No problem bro, no problem at all. Pleasure doing business with you.''
>''Yeah, same, same.''
>On impulse, you pull out your phone
>The display reads 21:06
>Shit
>You finish your forty with a long pull and turn towards Santiago
''Hey man, I gotta go. Thanks for the forty, man.''
>He grins at you
>''Yeah, no problem, ese. Man, thanks again for the Mary, eh?''