Mirabelle entered the alley, smoking a blunt. She had parked her Ferrari illegally a block away, but even in this sketchy neighborhood they wouldn't touch it: they knew who she was and that her Ferrari was one of her favorite cars. They also knew that if her car had so much as a scratch on it, she'd find them and snap their neck with no flit of emotion on her face. She had a street race later today, and wanted some heroin or shrooms as a gift for her victory later that night. She saw another girl in the alley, but she shrugged it off. It likely wouldn't be anybody from Constance. All those people did were weed and they usually bought it from classmates after school.
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