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Zeke and Dizzee enter the shop together. Dizzee goes to flip the lights on while Zeke heads towards the back. There’s silence for a moment and then there’s a yelp and Zeke comes running out. He skids to a stop by Dizzee and whispers:

“Dizzee, man, there’s someone back there!”

Dizzee turns to him, wide eyed. That makes its sound like they’re about to get ax murdered:

“What do you mean?”

Zeke stutters:

“They look like a kid?”

Dizzee relaxes slightly and heads towards the back to check it out. Zeke walks at his side, looking nervous. They enter the back room and Dizzee looks around, not seeing anyone, until he notices the broom closet is open and there’s a figure curled up on the floor of the closet.

Long brown hair splays across the floor and a jean jacket covered in patches covers the person like a very rough blanket. One of the patches boasts: savage warlords. Dizzee gasps:

“What is Napoleon doing here?”

Zeke checks the back door, ans says:

“The lock’s broken. That must have been how he got in.”

Dizzee sighs and runs a hand over his face.

“Okay, so what do we do.”

Zeke shrugs and says:

“Kick him out, unless you want to call the police on him.”

Dizzee frowns at that.

“No thanks. I guess I’ll just wake him up?”

Zeke nods hesitantly and Dizzee sighs but steps forwards and pokes at the sleeping boy. Napoleon stirs, before his eyes snap open and he cowers back against the wall behind him. It’s such unusual behavior for the gang member that Dizzee feels a little bad. He shushes the boy and says:

“We’re not going to hurt you, Napoleon.”

Napoleon looks up at him with big, scared eyes, slowly filling with tears. Dizzee curses mentally and exclaims:

“Hey hey hey!”

Napoleon stutters out:

“They killed my brothers.”

Dizzee sees Zeke's face fall and feels his do the same. Not that he really knows the kid, but it sounds like something terrible has happened.

“Okay. Is that why you’re hiding here?”

Napoleon nods, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks. Dizzee continues:

“I assume it’s not safe for you to go out?”

Another nod. Dizzee sighs thinking through their options, which are not many. He looks at Zeke, knowing he isn’t going to like what Dizzee has to say, but he says it anyways:

“Would you like to stay here?”

Both Zeke and Napoleon are gaping at Dizzee. Zeke recovers first and shouts:

“What the hell are you thinking, Dizzee?”

Dizzee groans and shrugs:

“I’m not just going to let him get killed. And you know the shop’s owner will never come down here to check anyways. He’ll be easy to hide, he can sleep on the couch at night and help us out during the day. And it’s just for a little while.”

Zeke’s retort is cut off when Napoleon asks weakly:

“You would let me stay?”

His voice shakes and his cheeks are tearstained, which only makes Dizzee feel more sure he’s made the right decision. Zeke is looking at the kid, seeming to soften. Finally he sighs out:

“Fine, he can stay.”

Dizzee cheers internally and steps closer to Napoleon, extending a hand. The kid takes it and lets Dizzee lead him to the couch, where he takes a seat.

“First things first, you need to take that savage warlords vest off...”

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Ra ra is vacuuming a hallway in the theater, sucking up a truly impressive amount of popcorn, when Sam interrupts. She runs over frantically, clicking off the vacuum and dragging him towards the front desk. Ra ra lets her; as weird as Sam is, she usually has a purpose behind the weirdness. She pulls him behind the front desk and begins apologizing to the customer waiting:

“I apologize, Tanya, I was having trouble with the card reader. Ra Ra here can help you.”

Ra feels his eyes widen at the name--Tanya--and suddenly realizes who the customer is. As he steps forwards to run her card, he looks her over. She’s beautiful, holding herself up with complete assurance. She wears a brightly colored jacket that he bets she made herself. She gives him a kind smile as he runs the card and hands her the ticket. He’s so engrossed with looking at her that he almost forgets that this is his shot. He stutters out:

“Going to see force awakens again, huh? I’ve seen it almost fifty times.”

Her eyes widen at that and she grins wider as she replies:

“Wow! This is my thirtieth time.”

Ra wants to talk further with her but the customers behind her are beginning to grumble. He quickly grabs a pen and scrambles to write down his number. He hands it over to her.

“Here, if you ever want to talk about star wars.”

She takes it and something in her smile changes, becoming more of a smirk. She not so subtly looks him up and down and then says:

“Thanks. I’ll call you!”

Before heading towards her theater, hips swaying. Ra stares after her, frozen. Next to him, Sam whoops loudly. She grabs his shoulder and shakes him, yelling:

“Damn, bro, she is into you! Nice work.”

Ra ra finds himself blushing furiously and he swats at Sam:

“Come on, get back to work.”

He heads back to his vacuum, head still spinning.

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