"Watches, I got watches here, hey girly, this shit'd cost you 600 bucks in the store!"

I pressed past him, keeping to my own business.

"Nah, whatever. Watches, people, I got watches here!"

Maybe I should explain. My name is Kate... just Kate. I have short brown hair (Harder to get grabbed) and sharp blue eyes. I was walking along the streets of Saints Row, as I usually did, watching the illegal activities with interest. To be honest, I didn't really care.

"Hey baby, looking for some work?"

I was very conscious of the size of my bust, and scowled at her as I passed. Up ahead, a few gang members in yellow (Yellow meant Vice Kings) were shouting about a tag. As usual. But two gang colours meant trouble, as I knew, and, predictably, a few Rollerz (Blue) came walking up. After a bit of arguing, a fight started. I was getting closer. But I stopped as a red car filled with red gang members (Los Carnales) zoomed up and started shooting. I was too close for comfort. As I started to walk away, however, something happened and the car smashed into a wall right near me, blowing me off my feet.

I wasn't out for long, however. I scrabbled to my feet quickly, watching a Vice King shoot a few Carnales, before a Roller came up behind him and shot him. He started walking my way. I looked around. No remaining gang members. He was coming after me.

I backed away violently, tripping over something and falling onto the floor. He raised his pistol to my head. I snarled, very conscious of the fact that he would shoot me before I could get anywhere near him. I had a pistol, but he would probably shoot me before I could get my hand anywhere near that. In fact, I was thinking of just taking my chances with the pistol when a shot fired. But it wasn't shot at me. Oh no. The Roller lay, dead, on the floor.

And behind him were two people dressed in purple. Purple. Hm. Was there a gang that wore purple? There were always the rumours. I heard that some guy called Julius was starting a new gang called the Saints, and that they wore purple, but I thought it was just rumour. This must be them.

I started backing away, but the darker skinned one held out his hand for me. I pulled myself up shakily, very aware of a throbbing pain in my left ankle.

"You ok Playa?" He asked. I nodded.

"Let's go." The lighter skinned one said. The darker one helped me get to the street corner, where he helped me down carefully.

"It's just a sprain. Should be ok."

"Thank you..."

"Julius. That's Troy, you can thank him later."

Troy nodded.

"Listen playa, the row ain't safe anymore. Gangs fightin' over shit that ain't theirs."

"This is no time to be recruiting little girls." Troy remarked. I scowled.

"I'm 21, actually."

"Yeah right. Listen Julius, we need to get our asses outta here before the cops arrive."

"Ok, ok. One minute. Listen kid, we got a problem, come to the old church next Monday morning if you wanna be part of the solution."

"Ok."

"Right, Julius, let's go."

"Ok, see ya round playa."

And with that they both left. I struggled to my feet, getting out of the area quickly before the cops arrived. I soon came to an alleyway that looked alright, and sat down behind a trash can, out of the way. Next Monday... when was that?