⊱ᘎnveiled⊰ ↭ «ᴋʀɪs&ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴍɪɴ» ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ
"Dude, you keep glancing around suspiciously, just chill out," came the words from his friend, leaning against his neighbor's locker as Kris rooted through his own. The whole selling drug business was something he wasn't that familiar with, it hadn't been all that long for him to start slinging for his friend, and he was still trying to figure out the ins and outs of the whole charade.
"Shut up," he snorted, finally withdrawing his head from the locker, scooping books and pens into his bag. He slammed the door shut with a grumble before turning to frown at the other student. "Why didn't he ask you to get into this anyway?" Kris got his supply from one of his older friends, someone who'd been in the business for a while until he'd had to move and asked Kris to sell in order to keep his previously established clients happy.
His companion shrugged, "Probably because I'm always in trouble anyway. You're less obvious," he offered with an easy grin. Kris rolled his eyes and waved him away, walking away from him and the conversation. Obviously he wasn't angry, just a little on edge from an encounter a few days ago when a cop had randomly seemed to start sizing him up. His friend had assured him he was simply being paranoid, but he wasn't so sure.
He was supposed to meet someone, a new client or something, at the park, and as Kris made his way there, he pondered again why he had wanted to do this. He knew his family needed money, but whenever he offered them anything they looked at him suspiciously and demanded to know where he'd gotten money. So he'd tried simply slipping it into his mother's purse for her to simply discover and maybe wonder about. But then again, he knew he also didn't have much in the way of a future, it was all clogged in a state of unknowing, he wasn't smart enough for college and he resented the idea of working so hard for absolutely nothing like his parents. So frankly, he knew in a way, that selling drugs, even as a small time thing as it was now, was more or less something that was inevitable.
Upon reaching the park, he slipped onto one of the benches to wait. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he began flipping absently through it as he waited. The client he was waiting on was someone who went to school with him, but it was always better to meet up somewhere away from the establishment. While he'd seen the other around, he didn't know him that well considering they were in different grades and simply didn't seem to cross paths. Then again, it was better that way sometimes, seeing as it wouldn't be an immediate connection if either of them got caught.