A/N: Welcome to the Prequel! Why am I writing the Prequel second? Because. Enjoy!
Stilwater was a disgusting city; it was probably named that to mimic the stagnant odor the city seemed to have. If I had a choice, I would have never set foot in this place. It was riddled with crime, gangs controlled the streets, just in moving in to this little shit hole I managed to rent, I had almost gotten shot four times. I would probably get shot at again today.
My tiny bathroom had barely enough room for me stand as I applied makeup. Unlike most women, I wasn't trying to make myself look prettier, I was masculinizing myself. When I had first come to this city, I found myself attracting too much unwanted attention. I had trouble with the Vice Kings at first when they thought I was one of their street walkers. That meant I couldn't wear yellow or my usual clothing, so I switched out my outfits for men's clothing. Then I ran into problems with the los carnales because of my hair. Not enough people had ever seen a non-white person with naturally red hair and explaining about recessive genes while avoiding a beat down was ridiculous, which led to me dying my hair black. My hair had been too damn long to dye it all, so I chopped off the majority of it. I mourned the loss of it having never cut it before but it helped with my disguise.
Combined with my impressive height of 6'2", baggy clothes and dark skin, I looked like a badass dude. If I kept my head down, people left me the hell alone. I also found that the hoes were more likely to talk to me if they thought I was a buyer. I knew my sister was in this city somewhere whoring her drug addicted ass out and finding her was a pain in mine. Makeup done, I styled my hair so that it fell around my face in an unflattering way. I pulled on my leather jacket, tucking my Sig Sauer P226R into my belt hostler.
I spent the day trying to find anyone that knew Babette, dodging angry pimps and Vice Kings alike but to no avail. I gave up when the sky started to darken, my stomach killing me. I decided to head over to Freckle Bitches, having found the joy in their food. Seriously, it was like crack, although knowing this city, it probably did have crack in it.
I sighed as I realized I was down to my last hundred dollars, I didn't know what the hell to do for money. I was still pissed my hair hadn't bought in much money, apparently ginger didn't sell that well. I didn't have any skills and I had no idea if my new ids would come off as legal. Maybe I could get hired at Freckle Bitches; at least I would get free food then. I ignored the man hocking watches as I walked home and stopped by Miss J, a regular on this block.
"Hey little man," She snickered, "you doing good tonight?" Miss J had been the one to give me pointers on how to talk to the hookers around the city and how to hide from the gangs while I did so. I pulled out my wallet taking out one of the few pictures I had of my sister. She had promised to spread it around and give me a heads up. There was a sound of fighting up the block. "Shit, this isn't good." There was a gang of Rollerz fighting with Vice Kings when a car full of Carnales pulled up. There was gun fire everywhere, a Rollerz ran pass the two of us carrying a rifle. I took off at the sight only to be clipped by a car that crashed. I fell to the ground, my side killing me.
"Wrong time, wrong place, dawg." A Vice King pointed a gun at me, I threw a hand up as a shot went off. The gangbanger slumped to the ground behind him a white boy held a smoking gun as an older black man approached me.
"You okay, playa?" The man asked me, helping me to my feet. Half carrying me away from the burning car and dead bodies, the stink of burning flesh making me ill.
"Julius, let's move." The white boy said as he scanned the area, his gun held out to shoot anyone who moved. The three of us stumbled as the car exploded, I would have been killed if they hadn't moved me. The man, Julius helped me across the street, setting me down against a wall.
"That don't look so bad, you should be fine." He said after looking at my bruised side. "That's Troy," He pointed to the white boy whose back was to me, "you can thank him later."
"Hey." Troy turned back to the two of us, giving me a good look at him. He was no damn boy that was for sure. He had to be at least ten years older than me, brown hair that begged to have hands run through it and a goatee that would feel just right when kissed.
"The Row ain't safe no more, son. We got gangs fightin' over shit that ain't theirs and you in the way. They don't care if you representin' or not." I tried to interrupt him but Troy beat me to it.
"Julius there's no time to recruit." I could hear sirens in the distance.
"We need all the help we can get son."
"No we need to get our asses out of here."
"In a minute." Julius looked annoyed to be interrupted. "Look, the Row's got a problem. Come to the church when you wanna be a part of the solution." The pair of them took off leaving me sitting there. I clutched my side as I stumbled home, making sure to lock my door. I stared at the wall, my head hurting from today's events. Why couldn't my sister have gone to a calmer city? I was still staring when someone knocked at my door.
"You dropped this, child." Miss J stood there with my wallet in hand.
"Thanks." I said as I let her in for a cup of coffee, it was the least I could do. "What the hell happened out there?"
"Just another day," she sighed, "Gangs have been tearing this city a part for years, the ones who helped you are the newest, they call themselves the Saints."
"Somehow I doubt they are." I muttered.
"You know, they might be able to help you. Julius is a good man; he's really trying to help the city unlike the other gangs."
"There's one problem. I think they think I'm a guy." The hooker's laughter didn't help my self-esteem at all.
XXX
The church in question was one of the oldest in the city, right in the heart of the Row. There was a crowd in the courtyard, all of them wearing some purple; I stood out like a sore thumb in all black.
"Every muthafucka here knows what we need to do. Those bitches be ridin' around, thinkin' they own these streets. I don't care what flags they're flyin'... Rollerz, Carnales, Vice Kings... no one's makin' this nigga scared to walk the Row. We 'bout to lock this shit down... right now." Julius stood on the steps of the church as he gave his speech, Troy at his side. The bad English made me wince, I wasn't the best with the language but years of schooling left me judging him. The saints cheered in response until one of them glared at me.
"Who the fuck is this guy?" The glaring saint pointed at me, I opened my mouth to correct him, only to be cut off.
"Troy and I found him, I was gonna see if he'd ride with us."
"Her." I squeaked out but everyone ignored me.
"Julius, if he wants to run with the Saints he's gotta be canonized."
"He's right, Julius. Everyone had to do it."
"You ready for this, playa?" The gang made a circle much like kids at a fight in school.
"Merde." I swore as the first person came at me. I was good at fighting; I had to be growing up. As the kid from the most fucked up family in school, I had often been the target for bullying. I had learned the hard way, my ass had gotten kicked until I learned not to get hit. I fought dirty, pulling ears and hair tossing my opponents into each other. I went for the knees, knowing how easy they were to take out. The last person got in a lucky hit, leaving my head ringing as they went down from a kick in the nuts. I waited for more to come at me, only to have Troy walk smiling over.
"You earned your colors today." He clasped my hand, doing one of those man-shakes I never understood.
"That's some impressive shit; the only other Saint who kicked ass like that was Johnny." Another man walked over and clapped me on the back.
"Shit, took me half the time." Johnny smiled cockily at me. I blinked back at him unable to speak past my dry throat. Apparently the Saints were just chock full of hot guys. Julius stood before the crowd giving a speech while all I could think what the hell did I just get into?