The Hills || Hal & Meghan
Drug mules were a dime a dozen in the business, flooding in and out with less loyalties than the junkies they served. Hell, half of the people trafficking drugs for them were junkies, overdosing as often as they managed to score him cash. It was simply that kind of business, certainly not one Harold Cutteridge would have found lucrative and certainly not enticing.
Hal Elias, however, thrived in the world of drug and crime. He’d adapted easily, snorting lines off the silicon breasts of bought women, burning his own concoctions into chemical smoke to test on his mind. It took care, creating the perfectly intoxicating drug, the kind of thing that got you hooked on one drag. This was the kind of score Atticus Elias craved of the boy, his only son. It was Hal’s prerogative to toe with the line - to push his body through that and see just how long it took before this nightmare was sparingly ended. It had worked well enough. He spent most of his life feeling nothing and the rest of it in violent, chemically addled bursts. The consequences or lost nights were minimal, merely waking up with a new bruise or broken bone.
He waited in the private booth of Sinsations probing at one such bruise, a blooming pain in his right shoulder that he’d only showed to Six, who’d groaned at the size. The second of his father’s posse did a decent job seeming like he cared about his ‘young Don’ but Hal knew exactly where his loyalties lay. It was why he watched the entrance to the club warily, looking out for the shaved head and stern eyes dragging in this new mull.
Six has spoken of her through other mens comments, having met this particular dealer briefly but seeing potential. He was told she was prettier than most of their other mules, all her teeth still intact and sans the growing marks of long term addictions. The reason she was coming here was due to a certain expediency. And as he saw the tell-tale, lumbering gait of Six and he slim form beside him – he instantly understood better.
“Well fuck me sideways,” he said with a laugh, blowing a mix of smoke from his joint towards the dark haired girl. “You weren’t kidding- what a face.” He smirked, cheek bones sharpening with his amused judgement. “So you want to sell up, Leggy?”
