“Is this gonna work?” An anxiety-filled young adult asks as she points to a handgun she took from a backpack. A closer inspection revealed the firearm to be a plastic toy, though it was painted in a convincing enough way.

“Relax.” A man around her age tries to reaffirm her of their plan. “Just remember to sound convincing and to hit them if they try anything funny.”

Both young adults were clad in black clothes and had equally dark masks concealing their faces. It was the middle of the night and their goal was on the other side of the road: a 24-hour convenience store.

One deep breath later, she nods. They then leave their hiding spot behind the wall and make sure to not attract any attention [even though the street was deserted].

Opening the glass doors, they assess their surroundings immediately: the cashier, a goth-like teenager who was too occupied with something on her phone, and two nerdy-looking uni students were the only heads counted.

“Everyone! To the floor!” the female thief demands while pointing her gun at them. They weren’t expecting a hostage situation [to be honest, who does?] so it takes them a second shout to register their situation.

Doing as commanded, the uni students also put their hands behind their backs, afraid of what their criminal could try to pull off if she got angrier.

The cashier, who didn’t have a lot of room to move anyway, freezes in place, not moving an inch. This was clearly her first time being robbed.

Fast approaching her, the woman asks furiously. “Do you want me to bust your head open? Why are you not. On. The. Floor?!”

“I-I was- I mean, I-” the words refuse to leave her mouth as she does a whole lot more of not being on the floor.

“Get their stuff, J, I’ll handle her.” The female burglar’s companion requests, which she follows without a fuss. Now being the one addressing the cashier, the male of the two tries to soften his voice while still sounding demanding.

“Hey, look. I know this is scary for you but you just have to do what we tell you to. Ok?” During all this, he makes sure to dangerously wiggle his gun, pointing it at her at all times. She very much notices this, even though her eyes were glued to the man’s mask. “We’re not here to hurt you, we just want your stuff. Ok?”

Refusing to open her mouth again, the teenager contents herself with nodding. “Good girl.”

He then drops his backpack on top of the balcony. “Now, be a sweetie and fill this up with all the register has. Oh, and make sure to put in some candy bars too.” He says with a grin, even though no one can see it.

The goth cashier obeys him, awkwardly taking the money from the register and into the backpack. In the meantime, he looks over to his partner, who is doing surprisingly well in taking everything from them. They both had their backpacks, which seemed full of something [that now belonged to the duo]. Further inspections showed nothing in their pockets so she assumed everything was in the backpacks.

“H-Here…” the cashier stutters as she finishes. Looking back at her, the man pries in it to make sure it had something.

“There’s a lot of air in here, no?” He says in a threatening way, to which the girl tries to explain as best as she can.

“T-There weren’t a lot of customers today a-and-”

“Shhh…” Telling her to hush, his gun pointed at her for emphasis, she covers her mouth with her hand to not anger him further. “That’s what I thought. Now, to the floor.”

Turning away from her once she does so, he takes both students’ backpacks and begins to leave with them.

Until he realizes the scene before him.

“J” was trying to fit as much chocolate inside her own backpack as possible, to her partner’s chagrin. “The hell are you doing?”

“Getting chocolate. Duh.”

“Put that back, we don’t have time for this. Besides, I got you some anyway”

“No, I want more.” She gives him the tongue and keeps trying to fit in the entire candy aisle.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Ok, no. Leave all of that there.”

“Wha~ N-No, please.” Saddened by the news, the woman tries her best cute girl pleading voice to persuade her male partner, who groans with annoyance.

“Fine! Goddamn chocoholic.”

Giddy with the news, she happily skips to the exit, seemingly unaware that her hostages were still there to witness everything. That or she simply didn’t care. It’s not like they saw their faces so it was fair game.

After they finally leave, they immediately go to their vehicle: a very crude and beat-up green car.

“I told you to bring the bicycles. I’ll die of something just by existing near this.” The male of the two complains once he enters the passenger’s seat. His companion protests, keys already in.

“A three kilometer ride isn’t something you do with bicycles! Especially with heavy backpacks.”

“Of course it is! Three kilometers are nothing!”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Losing the will to argue with her friend over this [she knew it would go on for a while], she decides to content herself with a facepalm and a heavy sigh.

With the engine’s roar, she steps on the gas, leaving before anyone could spot them there.

A few minutes later, they reach an odd location: a cabin in the middle of the woods. The floor was bumpy and trees surrounded them everywhere they looked . The cabin itself was done in such a way that it blended in with the scenery, traces of green and brown splattered everywhere to divert unsuspecting passers.

It was also somewhat old and uncared for. Not that it had to be cared for, it was just a decoy.

The building itself held nothing of value. It was what was under it that mattered to the duo.

Once they enter, they immediately aim for a trapdoor hidden under a torn couch, which had a padlock further blocking its entrance. J shuffles some keys around while her partner moved the couch away. Unlocking the door, it reveals a set of stairs leading to the underground.

“It’s your turn to clean.” The male of the duo comments while removing his mask.

“Nu-uh. It’s yours. I did it last time.” J imitates him.

She had dark skin and short black hair. Her face was angular and had a scar on her left cheek. By no means a model but attractive on her own way.

The man to her side was more or less the same. His skin was slightly tanned and his black hair was kept trimmed short. His face was more oval and he had a short but well kept goatee. A man with an intellectual look, if one could put it to words.

“What? That was me! I had to spend the whole day with this mess.”

“No, sir!”

“Ok, deal: we both clean.” He tries to bargain the discussion away, to which she agrees [but not without grunting with discontent]

Flipping a switch, the electricity runs around with audible buzzes. The basement had much more thought put into it compared to the floor above. The walls and the floor were white and the singular light bulb did well in illuminating the area, which revealed two laptops, a small TV, and a colorless king-size bed.

It also had some goods covered with a gray sheet.

“We really need to up our game, you know?” She tells him while not wasting time with taking her shirt off, revealing a tight sports bra. Her friend turns his back to her immediately, some red on his cheeks.

“Didn’t I tell you to warn me before doing that?”

Nonchalant, she just continues changing. “What? You know I’m cool with this.”

“If someone ever asks if we’re a couple again, I’m saying yes.”

“If you want to get stabbed, sure.” She threatens with a smile.

Finally finished, she now sported very loose clothes: white shoes, brown pants, and a yellow shirt with a “<3” emoticon on the front. The shirt was a bit worn out, as if it was old and overused, and wearing it putted a smile on J’s face.

“You can turn now.”

“I still think you do this on purpose.” He accuses her, to which she grins smugly, further discontenting him. “Your turn now. Shoo.” He waves her away.

She copies him and turns around, letting him strip himself to change clothes. In his case, he ditches the black for white jeans and a gray button silk shirt. “I hate white clothes.”

“You look fantastic.”

“You say that no matter what I wear.”

“It’s true though.” She defends her argument.

“Well, then you also look fantastic.”

“Ew. No, not me.”

“I’m gonna hit you. Admire yourself.”

“No.” She refuses to elaborate further, turning her head away.

“Goddamn drama queen.”

They then put the backpacks under the sheet. A slight lifting of it showed various kinds of stolen electronics.

“I got nothing yet.” He comments.

“You can’t be serious. It’s been six months now.”

“We blew our chance with the narcotics guy and they haven’t been updating me on the big stuff anymore.”

“I already said I’m sorry!”

“I didn’t blame you for it.” He play pushes her. “Cheer up, something big will come soon. Until then...”

“’Pay your bills and stay in your lane.’” She quotes him with a bored look. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Welp,” yawning and visibly sleepy, the gray-shirted man begins. “today was fun but I’m beat. I’ll check the ads when I wake up.”

“I’m right behind you.” As if waiting for her cue, his friend also yawns.

Neither of them waste time in heading to bed, too tired to bother with anything else. They collapse on one another, somewhat uncomfortably, but eventually find a good position to sleep.

Half asleep, J says: “Goodnight, Samuel.”

Her friend answers: “Goodnight, Jane.”