When Darryl, Dan's dealer, was busted it was panic-worthy. Not only had he lost his own personal dealer, he had lost his supplier. You see, Dan had become something of a businessman as of late. He drove into Brandon, bought as much as he could afford and then drove them back out to his lily-white suburb of Bloomingdale and sold everything for a hefty mark-up.
Now, with Darryl out of the picture he didn't know how to proceed. He knew that Darryl had bought his shit from a guy in Ybor, but obviously he'd never given Dan the address or anything. He tried reaching out to the other couple of dudes he knew who bought from Darryl and each of them had different bits of information.
By the end of the week Dan knew the guy's name (everyone called him Beast), general description (tall, black, bald, tattooed), and a vague area within Ybor to start looking. So one Saturday afternoon Dan dressed as "downtown" as he could muster and headed into Ybor to keep up the search.
Now you might be saying to yourself, "Kinda stupid for a suburban white kid to just wander into a shit part of town looking for drugs." and you'd be absolutely right.
Dan got off the bus, bought a Red Bull at the bodega on the corner, and asked the cashier if he knew a dude named Beast. The guy shook his head and said something in Arabic that Dan assumed was a no.
He exited the store, cracked the Red Bull, and looked up and down the street.
Well shit, he thought as he picked left and started walking.
After a few minutes of walking someone behind him suddenly half-shouted, "The fuck you want with Beast white boy?"
Dan turned to see a black woman about his age. She stayed a noticeable distance from him as he looked at her.
"I, uh... need something from him?" he said awkwardly.
She laughed. "Something, huh? Only a couple things anyone wants from Beast. You're either after drugs or cock."
"Yeah," said Dan. "Well... I, uh... do you know where I can find him?"
"Sure do," she said. "But I ain't about to lead some white boy snitch motherfucker into his house. Get my ass shot for that shit."
"I'm not a cop," said Dan.
"Lift your shirt," she said.
"What?"
"Your shirt," she said again, this time motioning in case he didn't know what she meant by shirt. "Lift that shit so I see you ain't wearin no wire."
"Oh," said Dan. "Yeah. That makes sense."
He lifted his shirt to his nipples and, upon her insistence, turned around so she could inspect his back as well.
"Yeah alight," she said motioning back toward the bodega. "Let's go."
She waited for him to catch up to her and then they started walking in silence. Every once in a while, out of the corner of his eye, Dan saw her looking at him as if sizing him up. When they got back to the bodega she pointed across the street at a rundown apartment building that Dan had initially assumed was abandoned.
"Ring #6 and then #9," she said. "Then you wait your ass right there. Don't walk away. Might take a minute."
Before Dan could thank her she was heading back into the bodega.
He rang buzzer 6, waited a beat or two, and then rang buzzer 9. Nothing happened so he leaned against the opposite wall and watched the intercom. After a few minutes the intercom buzzed to life but no one said anything.
"Hello?" Dan said, and the intercom shut off again.
After what felt like an hour the door opened and massive hispanic dude walked out carrying a backpack. He shot Dan a hard look as he walked past him, climbed into a waiting pickup and drove off.
Then the intercom came to life again.
"The fuck you want?" someone asked aggressively through the intercom.
"I, uh... I'm looking for Beast?"
"Was that a fuckin question?"
"No," said Dan more assertively. "I'm looking for Beast. My name's Dan - I'm a friend of Darryl's."
"That's more like it," laughed the disembodied voice. Then, "Number 7." and the door buzzed open as the intercom died once more.
The door was ajar when he got to it but he knocked anyway. No one answered so he called into the apartment. "Hello?"
The door behind him swung open and suddenly Dan was off his feet being pulled into the other apartment. He was thrown onto the couch and once he gained his senses he realized that Beast was looming over him with a gun in his hand.
"Who the fuck are you?" he asked angrily. "And where the fuck is Darryl?"
"I'm Dan!" he managed to say in a panicked tone. "Darryl, uh... got busted."
Beast laughed. "Fuckin dumbass," he said. "I knew she'd fuck up eventually. Too goddamn sloppy."
"I was hoping I could maybe buy his shit instead. Y'know, kinda... replace him?"
"Take off your shirt," Beast said. Knowing the deal Dan did as he was told. Beast nodded. "Now your pants."
"What?"
"Pants," he repeated, motioning toward them with the gun. "You could have a wire wrapped around your little white boy clit for all the fuck I know."
Dan stood, undid his pants and pulled them down so Beast could see his boxers and bare legs.
"Them too," he said pointing at the boxers.
"What?"
Beast backhanded Dan with his empty hand.
"Bitch I told you do something!" he shouted.
The sudden violence had taken Dan aback enough that he found himself unwilling to argue. He pulled his boxers down and attempted to cover his shame before Beast, using the gun, moved Dan's hands away. He laughed and motioned toward the couch.
"Sit," he commanded. When Dan made to pull up his pants Beast stopped him. "Did I say to get dressed first? No. I said fucking sit."
Dejectedly, Dan sat and without another word Beast left the room, leaving him to sit there alone, more-or-less naked. Dan kept debating pulling up his pants but then remembered the slap.
After twenty minutes or so Beast sauntered back into the room. He had clearly been in the other room smoking weed because as soon as the door opened smoke poured out. He handed Dan a blunt and insisted he smoke too.
"Aight bitch," said Beast as he flopped into a beanbag chair opposite of Dan. "So you wanna replace the other white bitch, huh?"
"Darryl."
"Yeah, whatever."
