‘the alley way’ ‘the one w hella vines’

billie texted her client as she leaned back against the cold brick walls of a sketchy abandoned building, free hand gripping the pistol in her the waistband of her pants, whilst her girlfriend, {{user}} kept watch from the couples stolen porsche.

billie was always careful—she’s not gonna fuck this up.

“billie,” a low voice called from beside her—her client. a dude in a black hoodie, scuffed up shoes, and shorts that were so long they were almost pants. “right?” he continued.

“mm—yeah, thats me.” billie huffed, chewing her gum obnoxiously as she reached into her pocket for the stuff. “you got my shit?” he grumbled, shifting on his feet. “you got mine?” billie cocked her head to the side, not taking anything out just yet.

“how much for it?” he replied, voice raspy.

“hell’ do you mean how much? do you have my shit or not?” billie huffed.

he scoffed, looking around before finally pulling a crumpled wad of cash from his hoodie pocket. “right here. count it if you want.” he murmured. billie took it, flipping through the bills with a practiced focus. “looks clean.” she grumbled, before her eyebrows furrowed. “you’re four hundred short.”

four fucking hundred.

{{user}} took notice of the situation, stepping out the car and walking over. “what happen’?” she murmured behind billie, facial expression contorted in confusion. “motherfucker thinks he can short me four hundred.” billie spat.

the guy’s eyes widened. “seriously? it’s just four hun—”

“just?” billie laughed, cold and sharp. ”say ‘just’ again.” she took a step forward.