After leaving the premises, the boys and I headed to where we had parked our bikes. We hid away our guns in our backpacks, hopped onto our bikes, and rode towards a store.
Arriving in front of the store, Eman went inside, while the two of us waited outside for five minutes. Upon his return, he excitedly displayed the alcohol he had purchased.
"Yeaaa bithcess, tonight we gonna get drunk until we can't stand up, do you hear!" he shouted out of excitement hyping us all up.
We were all excited due to meeting with the Adem Krasniqi and not fucking up something.
With our spirits high, the three of us pedaled our bikes around the city while singing our hearts out, eager to go home and get wasted. after a while of riding our bikes it was starting to became dark, so we went to Darjan's house.
As we walked into the house, we saw Darjan's father sitting in front of the TV.
Darjan asked his father, "Dad, can my boys stay here tonight?"
"Sure, I don't care, but these trash aren't allowed on my house." replied his father, directing his insult at me and Eman.
"Stop being so childish." I said.
Darjan's father rose aggressively from his worn-out couch. "What did you just say, you little fuck?!" His anger erupted like a volcano, spewing forth molten rage. "You two stole a lot of money from me, and now you're saying I'm fucking childish?!" His voice reverberated through the room, the hatred for us within him flowing out.
Taking a deep breath, I held my ground. "Yeah, since I've returned all the money and even more to Darjan," I replied, my voice steady and unwavering.
Darjan, standing beside me, affirmed my words. "Yeah, Dad, he gave me the money back,"
Still seething with anger, Darjan's father pointed an accusing finger at us. "Still, they broke into our house and attacked us!"
"If your son hadn't stolen my money, I wouldn't have done anything to you," I said, side eyeing Darjan.
"What?! he did that?"
I pressed on, determined to set things right. "Yea, now sit back down on the couch. Mine and Darjan's problem has already been solved," I asserted firmly.
"No, I-" His father's protest was cut short, interrupted by my stern gaze and the truth hanging heavily in the air. The evidence of his wrongdoing was in my possession, a sword hanging over his head.
"Before you continue, you do realize you stabbed Eman, and I have the evidence," I interjected, my voice calm but laced with menace. "So sit down and let's forget about the past."
A mixture of anger and surrender sparked in his eyes as he disagreeably complied. "Tsk, fucking prick, fine," he muttered under his breath.
Reluctantly, Darjan's father settled back onto the worn cushions of the couch, and we did that as well. With a shared sense of relief, I retrieved the bottles of alcohol from Eman's backpack, However, our excitement was short-lived when Darjan's dad asked in a stern tone, "Little shits, where the hell did you get the alcohol?"
"We bought it dad, where else?" replied Darjan.
"Is that so?" His father questioned us.
"Ye."
He looked at us for a couple of seconds before saying,
"Well fuck it, let me join in boys!"
While drinking underage may be considered uncommon in other countries, in the Balkans, it's quite normal to start drinking as young as six years old. Therefore, it wasn't a big deal for us nor the dad.
Eager to unwind, Darjan's father rose from his seat and disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned carrying bottles of red bulls and various types of sodas.
"Listen up, boys. Since this is your first time drinking, you need to get as drunk as your body can fucking handle, do you understand?" exclaimed his father.
"Yeaaa!!!" we shouted with excitement, even though they had drunk many times before. But I didn't.
We started mixing Jägermeister with Red Bulls and juices, downing shot after shot until we were all completely wasted. Our screams of excitement filled the room as we watched a boxing match on the TV. It was a genuinely enjoyable experience, providing a much-needed escape from the immense stress I had as a young teen with the responsibility that even average adults don't have.
Our vibe was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. Darjan's father answered it, only to be met with a furious neighbor screaming at him.
"Are you fucking crazy! It's 10 pm, and all my kids are sleeping. If you don't quiet down, I'll call the police!"
The insult hurled towards him was enough to make anyone angry, but Darjan's father took a different approach due to his drunken state. Without a word of anger, he grabbed the person's hand and pulled them into our room, offering them a drink.
"What? Are you crazy? I'm not drinking now. I'm calling the police!" The neighbor grew angrier by the second.
"Listen buddy, drink three cups, and if you still don't want to stay with us, we'll all quiet down. Deal?" Darjan's father made a tempting offer.
"Fine," the person agreed, sitting down on the couch and beginning drinking cup after cup until he was thoroughly drunk.
He ended up staying with us, and we all refocused on the game, putting the interruption behind us.
"COME ONN PUNCH HIM IN THE JAW YOU DUMB ASS!" The neighbor was more excited than we were. How funny at first he insulted us, and now he is enjoying time with us.
Despite all of us screaming without reason, we had fun, and that was what mattered. After the match ended, the neighbor returned to his house wasted, and Darjan's father went to sleep. But for us, the night was not over. Darjan had an idea.
"Eman and Boss, let's go to a club. What do you say?"
"Fuck yea!" I exclaimed, grabbing my jacket.
They followed my lead, and we sneaked outside, hopped on our bikes, and started riding aimlessly narrowly avoiding crashes every few minutes. After a while, we realized we didn't know where we were heading. I pulled out my phone and searched for nearby clubs on Google.
Several options popped up, so I clicked on one, and we continued our drunken ride.
Suddenly, my phone began to ring, and I knew exactly who was calling: my mother. Panicking, I yelled to Eman and Darjan to stop and not say a word. After pulling over to the sidewalk, I answered the phone with a stutter, "H-hello, Mom."
"Dionis, where are you? It's already midnight!" she scolded.
"Oh, I forgot to ask if I could sleep over at a friend's house tonight," I pretend to be innocent.
"Who is the friend?" she inquired.
"Borce, Mom. Don't you remember me telling you about him?"
"Yes, I remember. Well, alright, you can sleep over tonight, but next time ask first,"
"Thanks, Mom. Love you. Bye," I hung up, putting my phone in the pocket and shouted, "Bros! let's fucking go!" Excited that my mom allowed me to stay the night outside the house, we continued cycling toward the club.
After twenty minutes, we found ourselves standing before a magnificent structure, where the music was so loud that it could be heard from outside. A tingling sense of anticipation mixed with nervousness coursed through me. The imposing front door awaited our arrival, flanked by two muscular guards whose hands stretched out towards us, halting our eager footsteps. Their vigilant gazes assessed us, one of them demanding identification.
"We don't have them, but we're old enough," Eman asserted confidently, trying to sway the guards with words alone.
The guard's voice remained firm yet regretful as he replied, "I'm sorry, but without IDs, I can't let you in."
Frustration sparked in Darjan and Eman, their voices rising in aggression. To avoid being thrown out before even stepping foot on the club, I Gently, I grabbed my wallet from the pocket grabbed a 100 dollar bill and extended the offering towards the guards, hoping to sway their unwavering stance. "This should be enough, right?"
A subtle glimmer of consideration flickered in the guard's eyes as he mulled over the proposition. "Hmm, $100 each, and we'll let you through, kid,"
"Greedy bastard, sure" I agreed and handed another $100 to the other guard.
The guards opened the door for us. With a nod of acceptance, they granted us passage, and we stepped into the immersive realm of the club, ready to embrace the thrills that awaited within.