c/w: drug abuse
It was Kingsley's own fault that the kid with jet black hair ran off. He's probably going to call the damn police now. Hopefully he doesn't, because I need the other kid.
Right before that kid ran off, Kingsley had met the 'other kid', who was a crying mess. The other kid said his name was Dwayne, but the second kid, of course, didn't introduce himself.
Kingsley knew he was just excited after meeting this 'Dwayne', and got too aggressive when meeting the other kid.
"My own fault," murmurs Kingsley, but he knows being an "independent supplier of unperscribed vitamins" is something that isn't the easiest to do. Most of the time, he isn't lucky enough to snatch a crying kid off the street, but that day he struck gold.
And that gold will definitely make his life better than before. Kingsley is sure of it. That's the reason why he does this, and he knows it. Those people are going to get addicted at some point in there lives anyways. It's just a fact of life. If they're are going to start abusing drugs anyway, then why shouldn't Kingsley make some money off of it? There's nothing wrong with that.
Because life is important. He should do anything he can to preserve his life and his life only.
~ ~ ~
Just do it. You know it'll be fine. Alex does it too.
Stop it! You know it's wrong! Don't do it!
Dwayne growls. This is what his life has turned into. The endless bouncing of voices in his head. Every time it gets quiet, his mind goes back to arguing about whether he should take those super-tablets.
"Dwayne, can you hear me?" asks a person whose name Dwayne can't remember. Oh right, he's in school. There's a teacher.
"Yes," replies Dwayne in a monotone voice. He lazily taps his pencil on the desk, not even glancing at Mr. Teacher-whose-name-Dwayne-can't-remember.
"Then would you please answer question number six?" the teacher says. Dwayne looks down at his paper, and he finds that he has no idea what the answer is.
"I . . . don't know," Dwayne replies, slinking down into his chair.
"If you really were paying attention, you would remember that I answered question number six for the class just a moment ago," the teacher replies.
The teacher lets that sink in while the entire class snickers. That's what I hate about teachers. Stupid, stupid teachers.
Somehow, Dwayne survives the entire class. After class, Dwayne is confronted by . . . someone whose name he can't remember. She seems familiar. I growing old? Why do I keep forgetting names?
"What's wrong with you?" Someone-whose-name-Dwayne-can't-remember raises an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" Dwayne attempts to navigate around her, but she is simply too agile. With that speed . . . I wonder if she plays basketball.
"Wait, I know you!" Dwayne realizes, pointing at the girl standing in front of him. She stares at him dryly.
"And do you happen to know my name?" she asks.
"Uh . . ." She's Alex's sister, so maybe her name is . . . um . . . --"Alexandria!" Dwayne smiles at his ingenuity until he sees Alexandria's face and realizes that Alexandria is not her name at all.
"At least you made an attempt," not-Alexandria says, "Chris just asked if my name was 'Alex', as if everyone in our family is named 'Alex'."
"What is your name?" Dwayne ponders for a moment, before finally coming to the conclusion of, "Alexa!"
Not-Alexandria-nor-Alexa blinks for a moment, and finally asks, "Are all guys this stupid, or is it just Alex's basketball team?"
"Uh. Just us?"
"Weirdo. Okay, but anyways, my name isn't important. What's important is Alex begged me to keep an eye on you idiots considering he is a grade above you, and I'm in the same class as you, Chris, Spencer, and the Crazy Trio," not-Alexandria-nor-Alexa says.
"Their names are Brady, Hunter, and Josh!" Dwayne says proudly.
Not-Alexandria-nor-Alexa sighs, "So their names are a higher priority than mine. Anyways, what's wrong with you?"
This seems to satisfy not-Alexandria-nor-Alexa, because she shrugs, "Alright."
As she begins to walk away, Dwayne asks, "Wait, what's your name again?"
"Not Alexandria nor Alexa," she replies, and Dwayne is left standing there wondering if he got the name right or not.
~ ~ ~
Not realizing it, Dwayne finds himself walking towards the meeting spot with that strange man from the day before.
"I need to do this," Dwayne decides, "Because my mind is going to explode if I don't."
Just like before, Dwayne turns the alley and finds a shadowy figure standing there. The darkness looms onto Dwayne, but he knows it's safe. He trusts this man.
"Is that you?" Dwayne asks tentatively.
The man's warm voice responds, "Yes, it's me. Have you made your decision?"
"Y-yes. I want one of those tablets," says Dwayne, "They're free for the first one right?"
"You are correct," the man hands a small unlabeled container to Dwayne, "I'll be waiting here tomorrow if you want more."
Dwayne stares at the container for a moment and then turns back to ask how much he's supposed to take, but the man is already gone.
~ ~ ~
Alex wants to go somewhere different for his evening stroll, but he seems drawn to the same place he went yesterday. Something tells him that he won't regret it.
He sees Dwayne, just like before, except this time, Dwayne is holding a small container. Dwayne is holding a small container.
Alex tenses up, feeling his feet move before his mind does.
. . .holding a small container.
Dwayne sees at Alex, but doesn't move. Alex's body moves on its' own as his right arm swings back, preparing for a powerful slap.
. . .a small container.
Alex furiously knocks the container out of Dwayne's hands and grabs his shoulders, "What are you doing?"
"Wh-wha?" Dwayne, who seems like he had just woken up, and seems to see Alex for the first time.
"What are you doing?" Alex growls, "Do you have any idea what could be in there?"
Dwayne stays silent for a moment. Then, he looks up and glares.
"I bet you know what's in there," he says with so much vitirol that Alex nearly forgets that this is Dwayne and not Chris.
"I . . . don't," Alex blinks, giving Dwayne an inquisitive look.
"Don't think I didn't notice!" Dwayne says, "You play basketball too good! You must have been doing something! And I finally figured it out! You take those super-tablets!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Alex shouts, "I don't take illegal drugs for basketball! That's insane!"
Dwayne sneers, "Sure, you can hide it from me all you want, but I still know the truth."
Dwayne reaches down to pick up the container, when Alex steps on it, crushing everything underneath.
~ ~ ~
"No!" Dwayne screams, and finally, he explodes. He's keeping it away from me! He doesn't want me to be as tall as he is! Dwayne wheels on Alex and brings his fist back for a powerful punch. The punch lands right on Alex's stomach, but Alex doesn't budge.
Dwayne screams and bawls, punching Alex as hard as he can, but Alex stands still.
"Fight back! Fight back, you idiot!" Dwayne shouts. Alex simply places a hand on Dwayne's shoulder.
"I wouldn't punch a teammate," Alex says. Dwayne stares for a moment. He feels the entire world enclosing in on him. Everything he thought he knew began to dissolve.
'I won't punch a shorty like you.' That's what they told me. They didn't care if I was a threat or not. They didn't think of me as a worthy opponent. I picked fights with all the tall people. They all laughed at me. But Alex . . . he didn't laugh.
People like Alex aren't cool because they're tall. They're cool because they don't care if they're tall or not.
And suddenly, Dwayne regrets those years of despising those extremely tall people who were popular. He realizes that instead of bitching and moaning about others who were taller than him, that he should have believed in himself. Being short wasn't a curse.
"I-I'm sorry," Dwayne feels his eyes welling with tears, as he begins to sob. He leans on Alex with his eyes closed and his legs beginning to feel weak.
"Come on, Dwayne," Alex says, "Go to bed. Tomorrow, we have practice."
"Okay," Dwayne begins to walk away, but then he hears Alex say something else that makes him want to start sobbing again.
Alex smiles, "Let's show them how much of a giant you are on the court."