Continuously re-wagering my returns on the blackjack game for my chances of winning are, to me, very well certain.
I have not yet had any issues cooking with the Vector’s gang then, not until my cover blew, as they would discover a card sharper I was. (Not talking of blackjack as it is literally impossible to cheat on its concepts).
That had streamed larva between us, and when they learned I associate with Jude, issues were escalated. But before all that is relayed, mostly I do tarry long in their casino. Truly, truly the vector’s gang was a rich gang, constituted by the profligate kids in Balltown though few rugged and violence enthusiasts were granted membership as they would defend the gang from intimidation, and maintain their credibility, of which I was one, fair enough the gang was mostly dominated by those from the Ring’s estate.
But, my aim was different, I joined the gang to harvest money, knowing they’ve got much to gamble, But it turns out they had this inherent antagonism in the emperors, Jude specifically. A fierce notorious gang with all sorts of physical criminal activities conceivable except they are yet to pull a heist on a financial institution.
But the rich counterpart might have possessed arms too but it’s for their interest protection I believe, as they do not meddle with Balltown’s peace and integrity unprovoked.
They will only display bestiality on an opposing body or force in retaliation due to their unobtrusive malicious nature but the emperor’s malevolence excelled by, and in their ferociousness.
On that day I would encounter the boy, Donald.
He appears a total opposite of mine, though very few I have known about him till present, but I’m sure he still would be.
I felt so rich for I was worth $9300, and the biggest jackpot I’ve hit so far. Already spending the money on what later annoys me whenever its thoughts re-emerge via retrospection.
Then, I had to get a haircut, and I thought of the best place to show off my squandering spirit, the ‘D-Royal beauty salon, and spa’ with its celebrity status would be a perfect place.
When I stepped out of the taxi I walked past several exotic cars in the parking spot and stepped into the expansive space.
DAY-UM! It felt like a ‘Walk In Chiller’, marveled at the synergy of the salon’s labor/services ambit, from the barber to the other stylists and to the make-up artist, the manicurist, the pedicurist, and others I couldn’t even make sense of their post, beheld the influx and efflux of both big and small, the young and old, but evidently wealthy and some were perhaps stinking rich.
My arrogant mind was never bemused by the sight of any celebrity like it does the children of nowadays. I walked past Selena Hathaway, an award-winning actress, model, and social media influencer, and the man beside her, a very famous Errick Darvey.
Lonnie Hanan Harrington, another automatically famous figure in the lavishly built sophisticated building for his last name; a descent of the Harold’s Harrington’s. Yet better referred to by his alias, MeLony. A contemporary Pop and R&B maestro.
So many that I do not even give a damn about.
I saw someone start up from the chair in front of one of the barbers at work, I moved towards the direction to sit for my haircut, Sontana, a famous YouTuber, with millions of subscribers, turned to go, perhaps he had caught me staring so he smiled at me, but Ryker, too big to be charmed by some scarce celebrity antics, I only condescended to maintain my glare on him as he greeted and returned people’s gestures to him till he was out of sight.
I turned my head towards the space I would rather have my haircut, and thereby sighted the posterior of a chubby boy with scruffy golden hair already wrapped with the apron, sat on my prospective chair, and the barber ready to work on his head.
“Hey man,” I growled.
“Get up! I am supposed to be sitting right there. My turn, it is.” I nodded to my words assertively.
And he gave that look a kid would give a folk speaking in foreign tongues,
“Hey Brody, my bad. Didn’t know you’re deaf.” I said stressing most of the syllables, then I signaled to him “get up, it’s my turn.”
His eyes widened!
The barber was watching me demonstrate, with an odd expression, and I reached out to him.
“You should tell him I was here, just the moment Sontana stood up, is he a wizard to have raced me down here the minute I looked away?”
“Well, that is not the case Mister,” he started to cut his hair
“He was here for a long time now sat over there,” pointing towards a direction I don’t even care to look upon. “He came with his uncle, whose hair I was barbing when Son entered, who usually has his hair cut by me, he pleaded that the boy let him have his done as he was to meet up with an appointment, so Donald assented.” The barber narrated eloquently but unfairly.
Overly disappointed and infuriated, I arrogantly dismissed the excuse.
“Well, I don’t give a shit! He has been here for a long time, fine. What was he doing? Who knows.
Felt comfortable giving away his chance and sitting around till I was here.
And so he’s gotta stand up imma sittin’ right here!” I protested, grabbed the chair by the arm, and turned the dumb boy around, who gave me a narrow look sitting calmly on the chair.
“Whoa whoa whoa.” Mr. Barber interjected as he reversed the chair to position with a scowl, “Things aren’t done that way, the policy is first come first serve.” He continued.
“Full of shite! Isn’t it?” I queried
“You don’t sell me that. I ain’t gonna buy that bullshit when you and…” I swayed to look at the boy, “Donald?” I asked cocking an eyebrow and he gave a slight nod. “Donald Dumb just obviously transgressed it.” I continued.
“Well, like I said earlier, they’ve sorted it out by themselves.” He replied nonchalantly as he continued barbing for the annoying dumb boy.
“Mr wellington, I’m getting pissed right now. We’ve gotta sort things now before I lose my shit!” I complained already getting pissed off.
“Who are you?” He said unbothered.
“Really, do you ask all random customers that?”
“Well, not actually. Perhaps I’d rephrase, what is your name, mister?”
“Ryker Hartley.”
“Okay, so Mr. Hartley, you need to know, the law guides everyone, and in every societal organization, there are distinct policies to observe. You ought to–”
“Mtcheeeww” I hissed, displeased by his loquaciousness, I interrupted cutting him off and dismissing his piquing rhetorics.
“Aye man, I ain’t here for no lectures okay? I want my haircut right now!” I said sternly, dipping my ten fingers into my cross-body bag
“What? You think I ain’t got money?” Forking out a handful of banknotes and fanning it to his face when someone said from behind me, “Hey rich troublesome,”
An unusual coarse voice that reeks of roaring discipline and tends to effortlessly instills fear and dominance.