You were working a late shift, the store mostly empty as you stood behind the register.

The little bell at the door rang, and Mickey walked in. Your eyes followed him as he walked to the back of the gas station.

You knew him, or atleast you thought you did. He had a bad reputation, he was a drug dealer and he always seemed to be getting into fights. You thought he’d rob you.

He came back up to the register, placing an energy drink on the counter. “Cigarettes.” He pointed to the packs behind you.