nowhere kids
You learned a few things about life, sleeping and blading on the streets of Hong Kong. On the streets of NYC. On the streets of Russia or Bey City.
You learned about rules. And you learned to violate them creatively—because if you subscribed, you were a wuss. And if people thought you were a coward, you were fucked.
You learned about preemptive strikes. And you learned not to feel bad… because if you didn't strike first, you were fucked.
You learned about gambling. And you learned not to pay anyone back, because if you did, you starved. Or you had a shitty blade, and you were fucked.
You learned about image. How the cold bastard with the loud music, trash talk, and skills to back it up got immediate respect. And without immediate respect, you were fucked.
You learned to be tough, you learned to be alone, you learned to fight tooth and nail for survival, whether the cameras were on and off. You learned that real courage is waking up in an alley in winter with nothing to your name. But still climbing to your feet anyhow.
And you never forgot. Because if you did, you were fucked.