Thaddeus Young, clothed in plain black sweatpants and a grey hoodie with the hood up, glanced around anxiously. This was the seediest part of Brooklyn, and if some thug recognized him for who he truly was, he would get mugged in an instant. The dealer was already late. Every second he spent out here was another second where he was putting himself at risk.
Thaddeus thought on the lengths that addicted people would go to get their fix. If you had asked him five years ago if he ever thought that he would be waiting on a street corner in the warehouse district of New York for a drug dealer, he would have laughed in the questioner’s face.
Now, it didn’t seem so funny.
He must have gotten lost in his thoughts, because he came back to awareness with his dealer waving his hands in front of his face. “Man, you got the withdrawals bad.”
“No, I’m good, just thinking,” Thaddeus responded. “You got the stuff?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” said the dealer, rummaging through his backpack. “You won’t need to think anymore once this stuff is in you, man. Your mind will be set free.”
Thaddeus held out a wad of hundred-dollar bills. “Spare the sales pitch. Just give me the beefies.”
“You got it, boss,” responded the dealer, handing Thaddeus a baggy of brown powder and taking the offered money. “Give me a ring when you need some more supply.”
The dealer left, and Thaddeus was alone again. He knew he should go straight home, but with the drug now in his possession, his body yearned even more for the fix. Nobody was watching him – he could just go into an alley and take a quick hit to take the edge off.
Almost sprinting to the lane between two brick warehouses, Thaddeus sat behind a dumpster. His sweatpants became damp with a mix of rainwater and raw garbage, but he didn’t care. He had already retrieved the string from his pocket and tied it around his arm. The needle was loaded up and ready to go, ready to sing its song of pleasure.
Thaddeus winced at the now-familiar pricking sensation of the needle entering his vein. He pressed on the end and gasped as he felt the rush of pure cheesesteak powder enter his system. Soon, his brain registered the injection, and for the first time in weeks, he felt at peace.