Fight: Uprising

The slums were alive, teeming with a kind of energy that only desperation could conjure. Trash piled high along the cracked sidewalks, and the occasional flickering streetlight cast a dull, yellowish glow on the people moving through the streets, heads down, eyes wary. The city outside looked the other way, pretending these corners didn't exist. But for Cole Matthews, this place was home.

At twelve years old, Cole had already learned that trust was a currency more fragile than the crumpled bills people exchanged in the shadows. He leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, his long coat wrapped tightly around him to shield against the biting wind. The coat had become a signature of sorts, a layer of protection between him and the world. His eyes scanned the streets with the calmness of someone who had seen too much already, and despite his age, Cole was anything but a kid anymore.

A couple of blocks down, he could see Ty and Zack milling about, both of them waiting for the signal. Ty, always restless, kicked a piece of broken glass across the pavement, the light catching his wild grin. Zack, quieter, leaned against a streetlamp, his eyes sharp and calculating, taking in every detail around him. They were his crew, his family in all but blood.

"Where the hell is Lina?" Cole muttered, more to himself than anyone else. She was late, and Lina was never late.

"Probably picking another fight somewhere," Ty said with a chuckle, walking up to Cole and pulling his worn hoodie tighter around himself. "You know how she gets."

Cole's eyes narrowed. He knew all too well. Lina was fierce, sometimes too fierce, and it got her into trouble more often than not. Still, they needed her, not just because she was a good fighter, but because she was the glue that held their ragtag group together. Without her, they might've drifted apart long ago.

"There she is," Zack finally said, nodding toward the alleyway where Lina emerged, her eyes bright, lips curved in a slight smirk as she jogged up to them. "Told you she'd be fine."

"I was fine," Lina said, brushing her dark hair out of her face, "until I ran into one of Crenshaw's goons. Had to make sure he wouldn't be bothering anyone else for a while."

Cole stiffened at the mention of Crenshaw. That name was more than just a threat; it was a constant weight on all of them. Crenshaw ran the streets of the slums, his gang tightening its grip every day, and anyone who crossed him rarely came out unscathed. Cole and his friends had managed to stay off his radar—barely—but it was getting harder.

"What'd you do?" Cole asked, his voice low.

Lina shrugged, but there was a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "Nothing too bad. Just made sure he'll have trouble walking for a week."

Cole exhaled, shaking his head. "We can't afford any more heat, Lina. Crenshaw's been circling us like a shark. One wrong move, and he'll come down on us harder than ever."

Lina's smirk faded, and she looked away. "I know. But I wasn't going to let him push people around."

Ty clapped his hands together, trying to diffuse the tension. "Hey, we'll be fine. We always are. Besides, we've got each other, right?"

"Yeah," Zack said, his voice quiet but firm. "We do."

They did. For now.

As they huddled together, Cole felt the familiar weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. These were his people, and no matter what, he had to keep them safe. Crenshaw and his crew were becoming more of a problem by the day, but Cole wasn't about to roll over and let them take everything. He wouldn't—couldn't—let that happen.

"We'll stick together," Cole said, his voice steady. "No matter what comes next."

And though the night felt colder than usual, the four of them stood strong against the shadows creeping ever closer.