Saturday night

“Have you blown all the money yet?” Tristen asks, sitting in front of me. I’m not gambling tonight. Relaxing and watching others lose money as I smoke and drink while listening to live jazz has been good enough for me ever since I won all that money.

“Don’t know where to begin,” I exhale the last bit of the cigarette then put it out.

“I know a few stores. I could show you around.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. What are you up to tonight, Tristen? You’re not at the tables.”

“Same reason you are. Just enjoying the music. It’s always better than what’s played above.”

“I haven’t listened to enough to know the difference.”

“You’ll come around,” she chuckles.

A third body joins us, Omar. “My two favorite ladies. Almost didn’t see you.” He places a bottle of whiskey on my table with a couple of glasses.

“Haven’t seen you around, something happened?” Tristen asks.

“Oh, I've just been catching up with a friend. Anything new?”

Tristen shakes her head, taking the bottle of whiskey to pour herself a glass. “The usual. The boyfriend is trying to convince me to vote blue with him at the election this year. We’ve been fighting over it.”

“Won’t see your side, huh?”

“Nope,” Tristen finishes half the glass she poured in one swing.

Political talk. It’s way out of my knowledge of expertise to have an opinion to express. I love hearing it but it always gets so nasty whenever it’s talked about. Eventually, it always gets uncomfortable to endure it. “You’re a republican, Tristen?” I ask her.

“You can say that” she says, then pours me a glass. “Not that I’m happy with the fucker we got this year. Think I’m doing third party this year”

“I hear ya. I thought things would be different by now.” Omar adds.

“It’s like everyone forgot what happened three years ago,” Tristen sighs. “Vote blue or the fascist win,” She mockingly says to make fun of the people who only repeat that and have nothing of value to add. “What a joke.”

Three years. That number always pops up. The world was supposed to change three years ago. It doesn’t matter how much it does, there’s somethings that fundamentally refuse.

“You’d think people would eventually have enough of the bullshit,” Omar pours himself a glass and drinks it all before I make a dent on mine.

“What about you, Grace? Who are you voting for?”

“Haven’t really been given it much thought. I don’t pay attention to any of it.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Tristen flicks her finger at me. “We all know how smart you are. There’s no way you haven’t.”

“Really, I haven’t.”

“So you’re just as bad as those who don’t want things to change,” Tristen’s tone changes, frustrated.

“That’s enough, Trist. You know the rules.” Omar reminds her.

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind. I know what’s going on. I’m not ignorant. It’s just hard to believe things can change at this point. I mean, the election this year is proof of that.”

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“There’s only two candidates who have a real shot and both have ties with Golden Hearts and no one cares,” Tristen slouches on her chair and finishes the rest of her drink.

“It was the remnant but close enough,” I correct her. “I don’t think they had a name for themselves.”

“Does it really matter? The largest cartel since Golden Hearts gets taken down and everyone who matters gets away scot free again. This country is a joke.”

Three years ago. That’s when everyone thought things would change. The corruption of the government was exposed and not a damn thing was done about it. Dozens of government officials and corporations were found to have ties with Lyle’s criminal organizations. Every court hearing and congress meeting was nothing but a farce to act like things were moving. Outrage was all there was for months. And just like school shootings or anything else, all the rage and outcry from everyone fighting and debating eventually got too tiresome to push for any actual change.

Lyle was the mastermind behind his organization and it was brought down with him. It was a bonus reward that came along with the work Andrew and Chris did to expose all of it. It was revenge for what Lyle did to Elizabeth. Revenge for any other girl who was corrupted under his spell just like she fell.

Andrew was willing to give his life for it. Chris gave away his sanity. And nobody knows what Chris was thinking in doing it the way he did. He put all our friends' lives in danger, and for what?

All of it felt like it was for nothing.

Lyle’s name was never made public. All that was given was the pseudonym he went by. His mugshot wasn’t even made available to the public. This man was the reason why all my friends were suffering and I don’t even know what he looks like.

“I think this whole thing has skewed our perception of organized crime,” I speak up. “It was great to have a scapegoat to hide the bigger issue.”

“And that is?” Tristen asks, leaning in to listen closer.

“That it will always exist. That organized crime is incredibly mundane. It’s so mundane that nobody notices it when its in our face, and when we do notice, it’s not how we want it to be. There’s no spectacle. There’s no going around shooting and killing people. There’s no torture. We only cared because there was a spectacle to entertain us back then. Now that it’s over, all the other small stuff doesn’t look as bad. They don’t see some business owner getting a contract from the government because of a little donation as what it is, criminal conspiracy. All in the name for profit. The ordinary person doesn’t care about that and will let it slide.”

Tristen grins, taking hold of my hand. “Sounds like you have given it thought, Grace. Any thoughts on how we could change that?”

“I’m rambling,” I say, unable to stop a few drops of whiskey from spilling out my lips. “It's not like my opinion is unique. Nobody wants to admit it, but we’re all just tired of being lied to that we the people have any power to make any real change. Nothing can ever change.”

“I like to live in a world where it’s a little bit more optimistic than that. Life isn’t morbid.”

But that’s the reality we live in. That’s what has been given to us. It’s all one big cycle. Something happens, it has to change, it doesn’t, then something else happens. Everyone is just so fucking exhausted. Those in power got what they wanted. It’s distraction after distraction until it’s forgotten. But it’s never forgotten, just pacified.

It’s easier to escape from reality. It’s easy to consume endless media. It’s better to rot away. It’s much more fun to do drugs and get fucked up all the time. Anything is better than reality.

That will never change.

“Sometimes I wish for things to have been kept in the dark. There’s one thing that did change and it’s the drugs. I miss what we had back then.”

“I hear that,” Tristen sighs.

“Are they gone forever?” I ask.

The drugs I buy from Omar are good, but not how they used to be. I’ve only had a taste and I’ve been searching for something similar since. I didn’t even try the coke that was around back then until a few weeks ago. I never felt so great when I did.

“It’s too expensive for me to flip and sell,” Omar takes a sip of his glass. “I could get you in contact with who sells it if you want.”

“Please.”

Anything is better than my reality.

“Grace,” Tristen lifts her head up with her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s better if you don’t get involved.”

“Relax,” Omar pulls out a business card out of his navy blue suit’s inner pocket and hands it to me. “The dealer has no ties. He sells what he stocked up before the collapse.”

“Thanks,” I flip over the card and read it.

There’s only a single word in the middle and figure it’s a nickname. The phone number under it is from out of state.

Acid.

Omar lied when he said this wasn’t tied to Lyle’s organization. Technically, it isn’t, but the number suggests it's tied to Golden Hearts, a much larger cartel that used to exist. The world was supposed to change when that fell, but Lyle took over what remained and continued where it was left of. That too was destroyed and history repeated itself. How many more years until it happens again? How many more times will it not change anything?

Fuck it.

What do I care anymore?

I’m so fucking tired and angry and depressed and desperate and lonely.