Who? Adam & Gia Where? Agony tattoo parlor When? Tuesday night. What? Adam's up to something dubious, and an unsuspecting co-worker's about to become a confused witness! Rating? PG-13 for language/alluding to violence and drug use. Will update as required.
It might have been Adam's night off from his internship, but he always had some sort of business to take care of. Since he'd started his internship, Adam had tried to stay on the straight and narrow. He had a place of his own, he had a college degree, he had career aspirations, and he'd tried to cull his group of friends to get rid of those who were dragging him down. It turned out that it wasn't so easy. You didn't just decide to leave that kind of life. It had a funny way of catching up with you, and what with a gambling addiction and a serious cashflow problem, it wasn't exactly difficult to pull Adam off track.
His cash-in-hand job delivering pizzas for the night had also taken a sour turn, when he'd figured out about halfway through his route that he was unwittingly delivering drugs. Something about the $200 pizza was a giveaway. He'd had enough, and it showed in his face when he booted open the door of Agony, marched straight through to the back of the shop, ignoring the girl on the counter babbling on about appointments, and got right up in one of the tattoo artist's faces.
"What the fuck was that all about? Decent guy, you said, easy money, fucking hell!" he hissed, a little too loudly. He looked down to see a young girl getting a butterfly tattooed right on the bullseye. "Sorry, love. Looks great," he added, apologetically. The tattooist claimed not to know what he was talking about, and from the genuinely confused and alarmed expression on his face, Adam was inclined to believe him. Tony had never steered him wrong before. "Yeah, well, ask your buddy what he's using as his toppings these days," he said in hushed tones, giving him a knowing look that just made him look a bit deranged. "The rest of them aren't getting fucking delivered, I'm not taking the heat for this," he insisted, trying to sound confident. It wasn't easy - sure, he didn't want to end up arrested selling someone else's drugs, but he also wasn't loving the idea of an angry drug-dealing after him for the rest of the cash, or indeed the rest of the drugs.