Aboard The Bianca, late afternoon.
Dexter, a cigarette dangling from his lips, walked over to Ian, who was leaning against the railing looking out at the water. He pulled out his pack and offered one to the redhead.
Ian found it a bit odd, but took the smoke anyway.
Standing on Ian's other side, Mickey's first instinct was to bolt. But then, curiosity about what the hell Dexter was up to got the better of him. He hesitated, gritted his teeth, and stayed put. He didn't look at King or Ian, though—just stood there, acting aloof while straining his ears to eavesdrop.
Dexter smiled at Ian. "How's school?"
Ian lit his cigarette and shook his head slightly. "Not great."
"Any hope for college?" King asked casually.
Ian was silent for a moment. "I wanted to go to West Point. But the chances aren't looking good..."
"You've got a record," King stated flatly. "Even though it gets sealed when you turn eighteen, for West Point... yeah, slim to none."
Ian knew this, of course. Back when he got thrown in juvie, he'd been heartbroken over it for a long time. Even though he'd mostly made peace with it now, hearing it said out loud still stung. He fell silent.
"Don't look so down," King said, catching Ian's expression. He chuckled. "Life has plenty of paths. West Point isn't the only way. And to be honest, even if you went, it's nothing special."
"I used to lead a crew of hundreds. The feeling? It was just... whatever."
Hearing this.
Thump.
Ian and Mickey were both startled, turning their heads in unison to look at King .
"You went to West Point?" Ian asked.
"..." Mickey heard that and looked at Ian with a complicated expression. Jesus, Ian really is kind of dumb.
King laughed. "No. I went to the University of the Streets."
Ian: "..."
Mickey: "!!!"
Confirmed!
This guy definitely used to be a gangster. And a boss-level one at that!
Seeing Ian stay quiet, King continued, "When my shooting range opens up, think about coming to work for me?"
"????" Ian was stunned, his brain failing to process the sudden offer. But even in his confusion, he subconsciously glanced at Mickey.
Working together with Mickey?
A second later, his crush-addled brain kicked into gear. Ian was very interested.
" The pay is good, and you'll have freedom. Put in a few years of hard work, and you'll have a car and a house. For you, this should be a great opportunity," King added. "Think it over."
Ian finally snapped back to reality. He gave a small, soft smile—the kind that looked totally submissive. "Okay. I'll think about it. Thanks."
"Don't mention it." With that, King walked away, cigarette in mouth, heading off to find Carl.
Carl was stepping away from the Gallagher family, step by step.
Ian was following close behind.
If those two left, what was left of the Gallagher household?
As for the remaining Gallaghers...
Let them keep sinking. Let them keep rotting.
Dexter had no interest in saving them.
By the railing.
Mickey was actually pretty excited about King offer. He took a hard drag on his cigarette, refused to look at Ian, and said, "King right. It's a solid chance for you. No matter how you slice it, it beats the hell out of stocking shelves at the Kash and Grab. What do you think?"
Hearing this, the smile on Ian's face deepened. He looked at Mickey with puppy-dog eyes. "Do you want me to say yes?"
To be honest, Mickey really couldn't handle Ian's soft side. He immediately raised an eyebrow and snapped, "Do whatever the fuck you want. Not my business."
having been together this long, Ian knew Mickey's temper inside out. He didn't mind the attitude. He just smiled and changed the subject. "What's the pay like?"
Mickey shook his head. "Dunno exactly. You're a minor, so probably the same as me—three grand a month, plus some random benefits."
"But he told me that next year, when I'm legal, he's gonna let me manage the range."
"My cut should be a lot higher then. I'll figure out a way to slide some extra cash your way."
Money was good stuff. If he wanted to be with Mickey, money was essential.
Ian's eyes lit up. "How much does a full-timer like Veronica make right now?"
"Don't know the exact number. Probably ten or twenty grand," Mickey replied.
"Jesus!" Ian was genuinely shocked. "I knew V was making bank, but I didn't think it was that much..."
Mickey knew that originally, Veronica's job was supposed to be Fiona's. He found the irony amusing and grinned. "Back then, if your sister Fiona hadn't been such a moron, who knows how good the Gallagher family would be living right now."
Ian gave a bitter laugh, remembering what happened.
Damn Lip.
He ruined Fiona's chance to make money, and got Ian a criminal record...
Heh.
"Yeah," Ian replied, his tone complicated.
---
Lip was driving the repaired ice cream truck alone. He'd restocked at the convenience store and was currently selling his wares at a playground.
Business was pretty good.
Lip was hustling hard. Even though he'd only made about fifty bucks since the morning, for someone as arrogant as Lip, he felt incredibly proud of himself.
Just then, another kid walked up to the truck. "One beer, one joint."
"No weed today. Come back tomorrow." Being out of weed was a headache for Lip.
The kid looked disappointed. "What kind of business are you running without weed? Whatever, just give me the beer."
Lip didn't bother arguing with the kid. He handed over the beer and took the cash.
Time flew.
The sun began to set in the west.
With a lull in customers, Lip checked the time, counted his earnings for the day, and decided to pack it up. He needed to go buy weed to prep for tomorrow's business.
In a hellhole like the South Side, weed was everywhere.
Without much effort, and after a bit of haggling, Lip headed back to the Gallagher house with a bag of grass.
Gallagher House, First Floor Living Room.
Thanks to the meds and the weed, Frank had enjoyed a very comfortable sleep. He woke up, took two seconds to orient himself, and then bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Debbie! Debbie! Help me up!"
Debbie had pretty much finished destroying Carl's belongings and was playing in the backyard. Hearing the shouting, she hesitated for a split second before her doormat instincts kicked in, and she ran back into the house.
Meanwhile.
Upstairs.
Fiona was woken up by Frank's screaming. She rubbed her eyes, ignored Frank completely, and smiled at Steve lying beside her.
The fact was...
Throughout the entire show, despite sleeping with so many men, Fiona only ever truly loved one person: Steve. After Steve disappeared, Fiona never really loved anyone else again. Maybe she forgot how.
It was an interesting thing.
Fiona watched the sleeping Steve for a long while. Then, she moved down under the covers and went to work.
Naturally, Steve woke up pretty quickly, squirming comfortably.
"Good afternoon," Fiona paused her movements, looking up with a smile.
"Good afternoon," Steve smiled back. Then, he gently pushed her head back down. "Keep going."