"Lemme tell you something, boy. You broke that fucking trophy. You know what that means?
"Hm, that it's broken," Traviz retorted.
Nate's face boiled.
"Fix it. Now."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"Show me the fucking dance." Traviz crossed his arms and pointed his head to the middle of the classroom.
"Don't change the subject!"
"Hm, are you guys afraid or something?" Traviz raised his arms, looking around.
"That's not the point. We ain't doing everything you ask 'round here, you bossy kid. And now you start breaking stuff just because you're bored-"
"What the trophy's about, anyway?" Traviz asked, annoyed at Nate's anger. Damn, he should've stayed at The Crib, really...
"Last year's Nationals. How about that?"
"Hm, dunno what that means..." Traviz turned around, very uninterested, yet wondering if winning the 'Nationals' was a cool thing or not.
"That's a big hell of a deal," Nate growled. "You just crashed the-"
"If you guys are so good, why don't you prove me and get another fucking trophy, huh?!" Traviz boomed, mirroring Nate's rage.
"To think you were crying like a baby last week..." Ion mused.
Traviz walked toward the fallen trophy. Its crashed pieces were miserably spread on the floor, each piece shining separately. He remembered Manolo gluing the vases he used to break.
Nationals... Did that mean they were the country's best dance crew?
"That's ridiculous, just glue it," Traviz said.
"We're the most legit damn crew in this fucking place, you idiot. I suggest you start showing some respect. This ain't the first time I ask you. A sorry would be a nice start," Nate said.
"Most legit?" Traviz raised his eyebrows. "Whatever. To me, you guys suck. You're a bunch of losers."
He had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. Damn, he just wanted to get out of there. Everybody seemed angry. Including Aaron. Traviz gulped.
"Guess you must get the hell outta The Crib, kid," Aaron said. "Thought you were cool, well you ain't cool. That trophy you broke, that's our goddamn life. You know nothing about that."
"Whatever. I don't care," Traviz growled, his voice trembling.
"When I was your age I was cruising around like god, lil' fella," Aaron said. "I was already the best dancer. Nate, Ion, and Goat, we started early back there, like brothers. We protect and love each other, and we're the best. Now, you, you ain't got a thing. You're just a selfish little sucker."
"I'M NOT!"
"Then show me, motherfucker. Whatchu got behind your white skin and the big cash from pops, huh?"
"Ars..." Goat raised his hand, trying to calm Aaron, who didn't hear him.
"I be cool and bro witchu. But you don't deserve those shits, you know. Guess Nate's right, you're just a white kid pain in the ass."
Traviz felt the chest weighing a hundred kilos. He had never seen Aaron so mad. That was groundbreaking.
"Ah, just fuck you..." Traviz grumbled.
"Just get the hell outta my sight, kid. If I see you again, Imma break your preppy face. Sucker. Nate, just kick him out."
YOU ARE READING
RED PARALLEL
General FictionHis world was gasoline and spark. From flame to flame the boy carried on his life. This is the life of Traviz O'Brien. He is just a boy, engulfed by the flames of a harsh world. An angry rich father, a crying mother, a cruel friend. Until the very d...
