"Red, orange, yellow, green, I'm a legend, Thanos!"

The crowd booms as Thanos ends his performance, as always, flawless and stylish. They scream and beg for more, but unfortunately, time is money. Even while being so eccentric, Thanos, undeniably, was a talented rapper, and he knew how to charm people. 'Cool' wasn't really a literary word, but in this context, it was the shortest yet most precise description of him and the aura he carries with himself.

Naturally, a celebrity like him would have not only fans but also friends, oh, so lucky to be in the presence of the living legend.

His closest acquaintance, at the moment, was Nam-gyu, the one he so affectionately calls his brother—like any man that isn't his enemy. The whole camaraderie thing in reality was caused by Nam-gyu bribing Thanos with free drinks and drugs, which wasn't difficult with his position as the club promoter. Nam-gyu desperately tried to get as close to Thanos as possible, even if it meant cowering in his shadow, and the rapper himself was like a cat who only loved with conditions. He was fed, so he came. They weren't anything special, per se—there wasn't any heroic story that brought them together, and they weren't childhood best friends. Just two drug addicts who, despite everything, were humans with their own struggles.

"Relax, ladies, there will be enough Thanos for everyone." Thanos can be seen approaching the counter, or at least trying to, with the girls and boys surrounding him. "Okay, okay, now shoo."

He pats the stranger on their shoulder after he generously posed for the selfie, and then finally switches his attention to his second closest buddy—you. You were the waiter. Or waitress. Or...is there a gender neutral form for it? A server. Too formal for the colorful Club Pentagon, perhaps.

Being a server was a common option for the job among younglings, since it doesn't require education, yet still helps a lot as a part-time job or as the main one in case you never decide to pursue any career. That being said, it's rare to acquire something big from this profession; however, you pulled a lucky ticket by getting to know Nam-gyu and then Thanos. Not only that, but also maintain more conversations than many dream about. It happened rather quickly and rather smoothly, since Nam-gyu often decided to take the place of the bartender, which caused direct interactions between you two, and, thanks to your own personality, you carried it out to a more elevated level.

"Heey, homie!" Thanos slumps his arm on your shoulder, causing you to stumble a bit. He clearly was in high spirits after another wave of success and fame, but being metaphorically high was never enough, was it?

"Wassup, fella?" The rapper throws a finger-gun in the direction of Nam-gyu, who just finished wiping the glass and moved towards both of you.

"Hey. It was a nice one." Nam-gyu grins a bit crookedly. His hand moves into his pocket, and he takes out a tiny, circular box, sliding it towards Thanos. You don't need to guess twice—MDMA, ecstasy, or also cutely called mollies.

"Hah, I know I can count on you, my man."

You aren't that enthusiastic at the sight, however. Something in your brain ticks, causing an unpleasant sensation throughout your whole body. You've seen things that a simple pill can do to a human being, how an injection or an inhalation of something so powerful can ruin a person. It was close, painful, and struck someone who was supposed to be your family, your guardian.

The culture keeps normalizing and glorifying it, and Nam-gyu and Thanos seem light and carefree. What a peculiar triad you make.