Chapter 3 Three

Days turned into weeks as I worked at the bar, trying to keep up with the demands of long hours and late nights. One evening, as I was wiping down the counter, a guy around my age approached me.

"Hey, man. I've noticed you working here for a while now. You seem pretty cool," he said, leaning against the bar.

"I'm Mike, by the way," he introduced himself, extending his hand.

"Justin," I replied, shaking his hand.

Mike turned out to be a regular at the bar, and we struck up a conversation during my breaks.

"You know, Justin, life shouldn't be all about work. There are other ways to make money," Mike said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Curiosity piqued, I asked, "What do you mean?"

Mike leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "I've got a side hustle that can bring in some serious cash. Something that can change your life."

My interest was piqued, but caution tugged at me. "What kind of side hustle are we talking about?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small baggie filled with white powder.

"Cocaine," he whispered, holding it up to the dim streetlight.

My heart raced, and my mind was filled with conflicting thoughts. I knew the risks, the danger of getting caught, but the weight of our financial struggles pushed me towards desperation.

"I can't do this, Mike. It's too risky," I stammered, trying to resist the temptation.

Mike shrugged, a sly smile forming on his face.

"Suit yourself, Justin. But just think about it. It's easy money, and we could really turn things around for ourselves and your family," he said, emphasizing the last part.

His words lingered in my mind, tempting me with the promise of a way out. The financial burden weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I began to see selling drugs as a possible solution.

Days turned into weeks, and the desperation grew. Finally, I sought out Mike at the bar one night, my voice filled with resignation.

"Alright, Mike. I'm in," I said, my voice steady but filled with a mix of determination and regret.

A triumphant grin spread across his face.

"That's what I like to hear, Justin. Together, we'll make things right."

Under Mike's guidance, I entered the world of drug distribution. It was a dark path I never thought I'd take, but desperation had led me there. I used my position at the bar to make connections and discreetly sell drugs.

"Bye! See you tomorrow!" Andrew greeted me.

"See ya! Thanks, Andrew!" I spoke gratefully on one late night, as I walked home after a particularly long shift, I caught sight of an old man sitting on a bench. There was something familiar about him. As I got closer, I recognized him readily.

"Mr. Thompson!" I called out, a smile forming on my face.

The old man looked up, his eyes widening with surprise. "Justin? Is that really you?"

I nodded, excited to see a familiar face. "Yes, it's me! How have you been?"

Mr. Thompson chuckled, his wrinkles deepening. "Oh, you know, getting by. How about you? How's your job going?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to share. But the warmth in Mr. Thompson's eyes encouraged me to open up.

"Well, Mr. Thompson, things have taken an unexpected turn. I lost my job as a guard but got a new one and I am happy with that!"

"You can file a case against your father, he deserves it!" He resolutely spoke.

"It is useless. We don't have space in his heart and you know very well, I am not used to fighting for the things that I don't own."

"You should be going to college instead of going for a job!" He added.

"But I don't want to let my mother struggle alone. I'm working at the bar, and also I've found myself involved in some other... opportunities," I admitted, choosing my words carefully.

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity evident. "Bar? And opportunities, you say?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes, I've been involved in some side business. It's not something I'm proud of, but I'm doing what I can to support my family."

Mr. Thompson's gaze softened, and he placed a hand on my shoulder. "Justin, I understand the struggles you face. But remember, there's always a choice. You have the power to shape your own path."

His words struck a chord within me, stirring a mix of emotions. I nodded, grateful for his wisdom.

"I know, Mr. Thompson. I'm trying my best to navigate through it all. I just hope I can find a way to provide for my family without compromising my values."

Mr. Thompson smiled warmly. "I have faith in you, Justin. Sometimes, life presents us with unexpected challenges, but it's how we face them that defines us. Keep pushing forward, and remember that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."

"Thanks, Mr. Thompson! Did you meet him?" I asked.

"No, I didn't! Nobody knows where has your father gone but the lady with him was not a casual woman. Your father, wherever Mr. Tony Morretti is, is involved in the lion's share of her work. There is much to be expected from him, after all, he was a drug addict and all that!"

"It's late Mr. Thompson, don't worry about others instead take care of yourself."

I made my home via the dark alleys, thinking about the circumstances of being a drug addict.

"This world is the game of brilliant minds and I am already in love with this game, my honey!" These words keep wandering in my mind whenever I think about my father, and multiple questions linger around me. The only thing I know in this dialogue is ... His honey, Miss Rosalinda or you can say Mrs. Tony Moretti.

"I am home!" I called aloud and was greeted warmly by my sweet little family I am always happy with.