BDK

Rep Your Clique!

(*Author's note: as much as I would love to have commissions every chapter, I have to skip due to funds. Hopefully, I can get back on track with artwork alongside chapter releases.)

Disclaimer: The following is a fictional story. It depicts the following: Violence, explicit language, drug use, alcohol use, and suggestive themes. Please read at your discretion.

The final bell rings. Kids racing out of their classrooms like the building was on fire. Cars with parents just as eager waiting in line. Bumper to bumper as they try to get to the head of the line before it stretches down the block.

Just coming in the tail end, with her arm resting outside the frame of the window was Mona. Inching her way to the front. 

Inside the school

mobs upon mobs of students either rushing to the front or the back of the school. Though a certain portion stayed back. All taking their time as they walk.

Groups, crews, gangs, and cliques. Gathering and walking to the agreed spot. All eyeballing each other as they make their way there. A tsunami of a tense crowd heading towards the baseball field.

The last one behind them all, with hands firmly tucked in his pockets, pep in his step, and a devilish grin on his face was none other than Lobos. Walking down the nearly empty hall.

Upon getting to the gym. He was happy to see his crewmates were already there. They didn't chicken out. His squad was already waiting and willing to go alongside Lobos.

"Where's your first class? In Fountain Plaza?" Kemo asked with a snark in his tone.

"Yeah, brick-shoes, you kept us waiting long enough," Ricky added.

Lobos with the look of a kid in a toy store.

"We're still doing this thing!" Lobos declared."I was even told certain people were expecting me."

This made Kemo's heart skip a beat.

(They reached out to him?) Kemo thought.

The Head Honcho, Lupo flashed in Kemo's mind.

"Now, from what I heard it's just a meeting of all the groups. Not a rumble or anything. So everyone is unarmed." Lobos informed them more information than Kemo gave them during Lunch, even more information than Kemo was privy to.

"I gave him my word that me and my boys would do as they ask." Lobos continued."They say this boss character is Chingon around here."

That's when the other three finally saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"Let's see for ourselves."

Lobos leading the way for the other three to follow.

At the now-filled baseball field, still more people were arriving.

"BB" stitched on a bandana flashed by as he sprinted to catch up with the others who wore "BB" like him. All the Barrio Boys. White sneakers, along with cuffed and creased tan pants. With black being the only color to mix. Either plain black T-shirt or a black T-shirt with an R.I.P. written on it. Dedicated to their fallen member.

From the far end of the field entered a scruffy group. Scrappy and mismatched uniforms. With stitched on clothing. Shoes with different brands and different colors. Bargain bins and value brands were the uniforms of this literal rag-tag group.  They didn't need embroidery of any kind, everyone knew this was the "Mares" group.

The chain link fence surrounding the baseball field rattling back and forth. Bodies upon bodies climbing over. A big group with "66" decorated all over their mainly white clothes. Stitched on their shirts. Their pants were tattooed on them or stitched on their bandannas. Every one of them had shaved heads and tanned skin. Not to be confused with the dirt bike riders from Bishop-High town. Nearly everyone from this group had slim and angular sunglasses on. Staring daggers into the Barrio Boys as they walked by them.