I apologize for the long wait, I've been facing a severe Writer's Block and then toying with multiple stories. So I settled with this one. I also apologize for the profanity in this chapter, this is an M chapter for language. Enjoy, and please review!

Chapter 3: Headache

"Oh good, they chose a song we knew." I thought. A strong techno beat started the song, drums pounding every three seconds while a corded electric melody whizzed, what you would expect if lightning could sing. The Tennessee Tremors turned their backs to us, and on what sounded like a thunder-clap, they started stomping their feet on the ground and stepping. The women in the back started scooching up to us, waggling their butts when a man vaulted over the girls with a non-tuck backflip . The whole group turned around with mock-awestruck expressions, hands on their faces as if in disbelief, as their group member did his solo. In front of Sahara he gave a look over and then scoffed before tutting. Seg-waying into my opinion what was rapid, although Elementary footwork, from the Spongebob to the Mama's Scrub. He mimed writing on a scratchpad as a strong thread of electric guitar whirred. Then he stepped back, and the women picked him up, making a throne out of their hands which he sat on while the men kissed his bare feet. Then he pointed us, and made a thumbs down before he jumped off and the whole group simultaneously pounded the ground.

The music ended with another thunderclap. The crowd roared, it had been awhile since a crew was as different, and had no bboying or girling whatsoever. The Tremors raised their arms in victory, as if they actually had this done already? The arrogance! The announcer whistled. "Damn, that Mama's Scrub was sick! Let me hear it for the Tennessee Tremors everyone." The people cheered and the announcer, who I always call, "Breezy" held the microphone to Sahara, who didn't blink once during the whole intimidation show.

"Yo Sahara, what did you think of the cru? Yay or nay?"Breezy asked. Sahara seemed to choose her words carefully. "They were...different. But hard for me to judge since only one member of their crew seems to be able to flop like a fish..." The man who was dancing started towards her, screaming in rapid obscenities with the rest of his crew when our crew got in the way. I stayed my place, Sahara was just getting under their skin, just as they had tried to do with ours. Breezy held the crews away from each other. "Back people. Okay Sahara, let's see what you think dancing is."

"Why Breezy, I'm the textbook definition of what dancing is."Sahara said. Breezy just smiled and walked off the stage. The stadium dimmed, and I watched the first round of our dance begin. A warning blare sounded in the sound for the second part of "Wild Fire", and Sahara leaped forward on "Let's Go." The rap started:

So many times I mean for hours
The water was too cold for me to shower
So I rode around till I could no more
Passing Drug Dealers who were knocking on my door
Uh

Sahara landed on her knees and then propelled herself back up before air-walking to her left, holding the tip of her hat so her head was down before doing quick hand motions. The other team sneered and made thumbs-down but then Sahara jumped in front of man and started imitating exactly what he was doing, only by the end, she thrust her chest and arms outwards and then made an "x" over her pelvis before jumping and landing in a split. The crowd went wild, and I started laughing because the other crew was aghast with anger, fists balled.

Ret and Jean rolled forward while Sahara rolled backwards.

Beat on that door
Till can't no more
This rap is sick
The drums shake the floor
Now watch this illness
Be unleashed
Become feral
Unleash the beast!
*Gasps*
Like a wild Fire eh
Like a wild Fire eh
Like a wild fire oh
Blow that door down uh!

Ret and Jean linked their hands and did dual front-handsprings, landing before V-shooting their legs out. Ret got up and bowed, head all the way to the ground, before Jean slapped his butt and jolted him up. Foaming at the mouth, Ret threw his arms in an erratic-looking way, but he still had control, and roaring like a dog and sniffing the other crew before putting his hand on his nose and whining. Jean led Ret away, giving the Tennessee Tremors the "finger"as she and Ret retreated. Sam threw herself forward in the Superman-Suicide, pretending she was flying, and then colliding with the floor without flinching.

I chuckled as the TT watched their dreams get decimated, they thought changing the song would actually allow them to win, but we practice a routine for every song we listen to on the radio. This was one of our favorites.
Sam finished by spinning around on her feet, faster, faster, she was a blur and yet didn't fall. Suddenly, she leaped forward, arms clawing and eyes wide. I couldn't help it, we all gawffed as one the TT women screamed and fell back in fright. An unfortunate member was in her way, and she fell on top of him. The rest of the group hurried to put themselves together, but the damage was done. We had broke the other team, the judges couldn't pretend to not see that, and most importantly, the crowd saw it; and they were ballistic. Cheers hit the roof and people hugged as everyone clapped, inversely people booed us and yelled in fury at us winning another night. I didn't ever have to dance, which was fine by me, I hadn't properly warmed up when I battled Brigade, I pulled a muscle in my lower back. It was all I could do to not lean over.
The Unpredicable had won, we clapped each other and Breezy handed us a suitcase( "Return the suitcase fellas hehe." he said) and we made our way out to the seats where my parents were. From there, we'd head to the bathrooms. Why? It was a very well known fact that some dancers didn't make it back to their cars after these battles, they would be mugged, shot, just take a look at the movie" Stomp the Yard." Shot and mugged, friend was framed. So instead of one of my best friends dying, we snuck out through a secret entrance that took us under the sewers. We had to walk a few miles, but then we could get to our van. It was a pain, but if we could live to continue walking those miles, it was worth it.

Sam watched our backs while we left, making sure that no one was following us. Ret and Jean brought us to my mom and dad, who always took us, and encouraged us to try out new things. The fact that we earned dough from this didn't hamper their enthusiasm either, Ret and Jean's parents were okay with this also, although they didn't have a car, and worked very late at their respective jobs, so the twins had to take care of themselves. As we made our way, people clapped us on the back, praised our skills, blamed our youth, smiled even though they were cursing us on the inside. We went through the motions, and finally made it to my parents, Mr and Mrs. Joelagy.

My father was an economist for his company, which meant that he was the scapegoat for when figures and trends turned out wrong, and there were product shortages. He worked very late hours, and slept longer, as a result he had very grey hair even though he was only 37, and always was in a dress-shirt of some sort. A pencil was constantly wedged between his ear, if you removed it you would see a pencil print wedged into his head so thoroughly that the pencil fit back perfectly when he was done with it. My mother on the other hand was a food critic and inspector, with occasional enlistments in the National Guard. Numbers have been down recently, so she's been getting called away very often, as well for training of new recruits. The vigorous training, and her no-easy-way attitude is what pushed us to do our best on the dance floor the most, otherwise it was thirty push-ups when we got home. I mean I love dance because it is about expression, but doing it to avoid more physical activity is definitely another incentive.

My mother gripped me in a bear hug that made my back spasm. She felt it with her fingers. "Drame, are you ok?" she asked, holding at arms length to inspect me for other bruises.

"I pulled a muscle I think mom. Just didn't stretch before battling is all." I never lie to my parents, and this alleviates tension away from their teenage boy. My dad claps me on the back and then hands me back my journal. I smile as he ruffled my hair. "Now that was one for the books." he laughed.

"Did you get on camera when Sam made that guy fall?!" Sahara asks excitedly.

"Of course. Let's get out of here." he replies. We start out when the microphone comes on.

Her mom left after a quick fuck one day

Leaving poor Sammy so quicklay

The girl doesn't even know her mom's true name

Her dad was and is a drunk so he doesn't and didn't even notice

That his wife dumped his ass, he's married to a bottle

When strikes his daughter or throws glass

Sammy gives him her ass

He's a bum that can't stand on two legs

So this bitch sucks it instead...

We all turn to see the Tennesse Tremors clapping each other on their backs and make obscene mouth gestures. Sam stared, horrified as the man continued rapping, tears filling her eyes. Sam's life was extremely tortured, everything the TT had said was either true, or exaggerated. The part about her dad being a drunk was true, but Sam was afraid if she would live, and how would he, if a social worker was involved. Each one of us have housed Sam, but we never spoke about it. Yet these animals did! Breezy was now holding us back as the twins swore rapidly in Spanish, and Sahara shouted what sore losers they were.

"Sam..." Sahara warned, but Sam, instead of running to pound the Tremors' heads in, pulled out a pistol.

"Sam!" I yelled, grabbing the gun just as she fired. One of the men fell, clutching his face. In a flurry, faster than any dance move, Sam was tackled to the ground by security that seemed to have come out of nowhere, and medics were taking the man away. The TT yelled and were just barely contained by the remaining crowd. "Go!" a man said. I looked around to see handcuffs being put around Sam's arms, her eyes closed while she sobbed.

"Leave her alone!" I screamed, and pushed the cop off her. My head was pounding, this was not how this night was suppose to end. If we could just leave, that may make it better. I heard the jingle of keys somewhere, grabbed them, and started taking off the cuffs.

"Drame!" Sahara screamed, but the cop lashed the side of my head with his boot too fast, and I saw black.

Until the next one, whenever that may be. Thanks again!-LLL