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Jackson stood outside of the establishment. He wasn't clad in his typical apparel at three in the morning. He was, however, still wearing all black clothing. Sweatpants, a hoodie, and a black ski mask with eye holes cut out... he looked like a proper criminal. The teenager approached Steve's shop, noticing the lack of cameras outside and the lack of light emanating from the building. This was going to be easier than he thought. The teen tried on the front door, and of course it was locked. This wouldn't stop him. Jackson pulled out his cheap set of lockpicks and got to work, occasionally looking around to make sure no one was around. Within a few minutes, the door gave a distinct click. Jackson wasn't exactly one to break into places, but he had watched a few YouTube tutorials in case he ever needed to do something like this. Turns out it came in handy.

Jackson pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket as he entered the dark store. The faint smells that distinguished this place from most still lingered even after hours, apparently. The teenager made his way past the store shelves and made his way to the cash register. With a few button presses for a fake transaction, the register slid open. Turns out Steve didn't empty the register last night, so Jackson quickly bagged the money. It wasn't bank heist level, but a few hundred dollars was a fortune for a kid like him.

As he was finishing bagging the cash, a chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong... and Jackson's instincts kicked in, quite literally. A quick swipe of his leg knocked the shotgun out of Steve's hands, and a punch to the chest was enough to practically throw him a few feet into the wall. Steve was unconscious, and Jackson took a quick look around. He felt like an idiot when he noticed a small security device attached behind the front door... probably just to notify Steve if anyone entered. With Steve unconscious, Jackson felt no remorse as he went into the back of the shop.

Jackson never realized what had been happening behind the scenes. There was a small little workshop set up to work on guitars in one corner of the open "storage" space, but several tables filled with instruments and bags of various substances were what caught the teen's attention. It wasn't just weed... but Cocaine was apparently another one of Steve's illicit products. Of course, also in the back was a mattress with dirty sheets in the corner, along with a case of shotgun shells. Jackson had never realized the drug dealer lived in his own shop. Jackson approached the bed and lifted the matress, smiling as he noticed what lied underneath. A few hundred more dollars... enough to make the thief drool. He quickly went to work bagging the cash before noticing the security console nearby, dimly lit with a small alert on screen. It had detected someone entering the building, and was asking for confirmation to alert the authorities. Clearly Steve would never do such a thing, especially when the back of his shop was a drug-bust gold mine.

Of course Jackson had pressed "Yes" on the device before running out of the store and into the night to get back home, removing the ski mask when he was a few blocks away and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. By the time he got home, it was about 5 am. He snuck in through a basement window before sneaking into his bedroom, closing and locking the door. He removed his clothes and stuffed them deep into the pile of dirty laundry in the corner. He then reclined into his bed. He figured he'd be able to sleep in if he pretended to be sick. Greg was certainly still feeling guilty... and Jackson felt bad for exploiting him like that. But old habits die hard.