Richmond Academy was the type of school one attended if their parents owned multiple businesses, or just so happened to be high level politicians.

For starters, tuition at this Southern California school ranged anywhere from an arm to a leg.

To those uninformed on the price of limbs, it was at the very least more than most people's rent.

The academy featured vast fields of green, perfectly trimmed and maintained grass. In the center of all of it was a large Victorian style building that was easily over five stories tall.

Alongside this main academic building were several smaller buildings that looked just as luxurious.

In the parking lot of this opulent academy was a gray, almost forgettable looking Sedan. The only reason this normally nondescript car stood out was because it was parked alongside numerous other luxury cars.

It was in this Sedan that Draco thought to himself, 'These damn Richmond kids, only in High School and already driving cars that should be reserved for Dads having a midlife crisis.'

After thinking this Draco turned up the music on the radio, blasting the hip-hop he was listening to into the rest of the parking lot complex.

At first glance, Draco could pass as your average delinquent. He had a strong jawline, and a quite serious looking face. However, his bright, hazel-green eyes had a constant mischievous glint in them.

This, alongside his short, wavy black hair, is probably the only reason he looked roguishly charming instead of like an army recruit.

Although you couldn't tell while he was sitting, Draco stood at an impressive 6'2". While this could be considered pretty tall, Draco was also quite well built which made him appear even taller than he actually was.

With wide shoulders and a large chest and arms from years of working out, Draco looked like the type of man you wouldn't want to fight without a weapon.

As powerfully built as he was though, you couldn't usually tell as he typically wore baggy sweat suits.

Today was no different, and he sat in his car while wearing a black and white adedays tracksuit and a pair of black sky force sneakers.

A few minutes later the person Draco was waiting for had finally arrived.

He felt a smile creep onto his lips as he saw the familiar face of the man who was now getting into the passenger seat of his car.

"Draco! Still driving this piece of shit I see." the person teased as he settled into the seat.

The man seemed to be relatively tall, at least six feet, and was wearing his perfectly tailored Richmond Academy uniform.

He had sharp features, blonde hair slicked over to the side, and overall looked like what you would expect a kid who was filthy rich to look like.

Draco's eye twitched for a second before he replied, "Listen James, you little sh*t, not everyone has Daddy's trust fund money to play with you know."

James laughed after hearing that and said, "Truly a tragedy." He then nodded his head sagely as if he had just said something wise and insightful.

Hearing this, Draco couldn't help but laugh as well before giving James their usual handshake.

"So what will it be? The usual?" he said.

"No, I'm going out of town this weekend so I'm probably going to need at least an ounce this time." James said.

"I got you." Draco replied as he reached into the backseat and grabbed a black bag before pulling out another, smaller bag.

This smaller bag seemed to be filled to the brim with some type of green substance, but anyone who smelt it would instantly know what it was.

Draco handed this bag to James, who then took out two crisp hundred dollar bills from his designer wallet before handing them to Draco.

If anyone was watching this 'transaction', it would be immediately obvious what was going on in that car.

After all, Draco had just sold some high school kid, albeit a rich one, a bag of 'the devil's lettuce.'

That's right, Draco wasn't just your average, everyday bum. He was a Drug Dealer.

Draco made a living off of the darker side of Capitalism, but he was still an entrepreneur at heart.

Ever since he himself was a high schooler this was how he made most of his money.

Draco discovered early on that the life of an average salary man was not for him, and besides, this field of work was much more lucrative.

After all, Draco had just made two hundred dollars in a little over five minutes.

James soon left the car after giving Draco another handshake, and Draco promptly pulled out of the parking lot.

Draco chuckled to himself as he looked at the luxurious cars in the school, 'Heh, this place really is a gold mine. It's only been a month since I found out about this place and I've already been back a dozen times. Who would've thought rich kids spent so much money on drugs.' he thought to himself.

Draco heard a notification and looked down at his phone. With a smile on his face he left the school campus and headed to his next client.

***

Twenty minutes later Draco had arrived at his destination.

Looking around and seeing the dilapidated buildings and graffiti covered brick walls of the neighborhood's buildings you would immediately know you were on the wrong side of town.

The difference between this place and the area surrounding Richmond Academy was like night and day, but Draco was a man of the people, and he went wherever the business needed him to go.

He stopped his car at a small house with a chain link fence around the front yard, then got out his phone and texted the man who had contacted him.

"Here at the front." he typed out and sent.

This particular client was actually someone Draco had never sold to before, but he was recommended by one of Draco's other customers.

To Draco it didn't matter who or where you were, and as long as you could make him money he'd happily provide you with whatever you needed.

It only took a minute or so for this new client to come out of his house. After the man got into his car, Draco took a moment to appraise him.

The man looked to be middle aged, was wearing a baggy T-shirt, and had on shorts. He was of average height and had a decent beer belly.

The only remarkable thing about him were his many tattoos. Especially notable was the tattoo of the number '10' on the left side of his neck that marked him as a member of the '10 Gang'.

Draco didn't pay this much mind as he frequently sold to members of gangs. They were usually pretty amicable unless otherwise rubbed the wrong way.

While Draco was inspecting the man he was also doing the same to Draco.

"I'm Shamus, I heard from my boy Roman that you got some of the best gas in town and you don't even mark up." said Shamus after giving Draco the usual drug deal handshake.

Draco smiled, "That's me. I won't boast too much, after all, seeing is believing."

It might sound silly, but in truth the handshake is one of the most important parts of the drug deal, besides selling the actual drugs of course.

This type of handshake is similar to the ones used by businessmen, but with the main intent being to get a feel for the person next to you.

After many years in the game Draco had learned to distinguish the different types of clients through their handshakes.

You could tell what type of person someone is from their handshake, whether they intended to buy a lot or a little, or even what mood they're in.

However, Shamus' handshake was vastly different than the one James had given him.

What Shamus' handshake was telling Draco was that this seemingly average man was actually quite dangerous, and judging by the scars on his knuckles had been in a fair few fistfights.

Draco had a sense for these sorts of things, and what his senses were telling him was that this man was a killer.