[b][color=ed1c24]"Here. Now you're in my debt."[/color][/b]

Diego Picked up the Cigarette from his pillow and placed it in his mouth. He hadn't smoked since he was a teenager, but there was hardly a reason to refrain any longer. He placed it between his lips and fished inside of his shoe for the matchbook he had smuggled into the prison. With great care, he tore a match out and struck it against the strike strip and set the delicate match aflame. Gently, he brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette and inhaled slowly to light the cancerous stick of tobacco. A feeling of light headedness washed over him and a strange sense of calm overcame the Latino man. Without smoking in years, this first cigarette would feel almost euphoric. [color=1a7b30][i][b]"But at what cost?"[/b][/i][/color] The sudden realization hit Diego like a runaway train. Less than an hour at Oz and he was already in debt to somebody. [color=1a7b30][i][b]"Fuck! I'm such an idiot!"[/b][/i][/color] There was no telling what Red might have him do to repay the debt. Diego knew that in prison, cigarettes was often a form of, if not [i]THE,[/i] form of currency. Diego might have just put himself into a much worse situation than he already was with this debt. Red could have him do [i]anything[/i] to repay this debt. He just hoped that whatever it was, that it didn't put him into a violent situation. "Even if I just defend myself in this place I'll be setting myself up for someone else's revenge." Slowly and with a shaky hand, he took another long drag from the cigarette. [color=1a7b30][b][i]"Guess we'll just have to wait and see..."[/i][/b][/color]