As I stand behind the counter of my pharmacy, I can't help but feel a sense of paranoia coursing through my veins. I sell all kinds of illicit substances to my customers over the counter and disguise it as prescription medicine. Cocaine, heroin, you name it and I can supply it. I know it's risky. I hate this feeling, but the money is too good to pass up.

Suddenly, the door to my pharmacy opens and a man wearing a fedora and a trench coat walks in. He looks around the store for a moment before approaching me.

Man: "I'm looking for something to help me relax, if you catch my drift. JT sent me."

I skirt my eyes around the store to make sure there are no other customers inside before responding.

Sweezy: "I think I know just the thing. How about some opium?"

Man: "Opium? That sounds perfect. How much does it cost?"

Sweezy: "For you, my friend, I can let it go for 50 bucks. It's a small price to pay for a little bit of peace of mind, wouldn't you say?"

Man: "Sounds like a fair deal to me. I'll take it."

I hand the man a small package containing the opium and he hands me the money. He nods at me and walks out of the store. Business is good, and as long as I stay under the radar, I'll continue to make a killing. But see, that's the thing... I'm getting more and more foot traffic by the day.

Deep down, I know that what I'm doing is wrong. I know that I'm putting people's lives at risk by making these substances so easily accessible. But the money is on the table... it might as well be me.

As I close up shop for the night and head home, I can't help but wonder how long it will be before I start getting the wrong kind of attention.