Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Loud House' or any other property in this work that I did not make myself.
Broken Mirror
Chapter two: Punk Monarchs
After waking up in a playset located on the property of a local park, Lincoln Loud, now just Lincoln, crawled out of the playset that served as his shelter during the night. Gathering up his backpack, the boy without a family made his way into the city proper and looked around for a place that had a bathroom. Finding one such place that would serve his interests, Lincoln went into one of the stalls in the men's restroom, changed into one of the clean shirts and one of the clean pairs of pants that he got from the local church, made use of the deodorant stick that came in the bag of personal care and hygiene products, then made his way out into the city that was now his new hometown.
Counting the money that he had on hand at the time he ran away, plus what little loose change he was able to gather since coming to this city, Lincoln had twenty-one dollars and seventy-four cents. The boy without a family knew full well that this roughly twenty-two bucks would not last him forever, so he would begin looking for a way to earn some income starting today. But first, he needed to find some place to settle down a bit to have breakfast, which would consist of the last pack of s'mores-flavored toaster treats he got from the bodega store he visited the previous evening. Lincoln knew that he could not afford to spend any of his meager supply of on-hand money unless it was absolutely necessary.
As Lincoln sat alone in a booth at a local Burpin' Burger (he didn't know until now that Burpin' Burger existed outside of Royal Woods), he overheard two male voices talking in a concerned tone. His curiosity piqued, the boy without a family leaned to his side slightly to see who was talking. As such, he saw two grown men talking to each other as they had breakfast at a nearby booth. The first man he saw was a Hispanic man that Lincoln estimated to be no older than his ex-father; this man wore glasses with a black-colored square frame, a white long-sleeved shirt under a green sweater vest, brown pants, and brown shoes.
Lincoln couldn't get a very good look at the man that the first man was talking to, as he was facing the first man, but the boy without a family guesses that the second man was a fairly slim older Caucasian man in his early eighties at the very least. From what Lincoln saw, the second man wore a long-sleeved plaid shirt, white pants, light brown loafers, and, for some odd reason, one of those hats that men in Ireland have been known to wear (Lincoln saw those kinds of hats before in photos). Hoping that the two men wouldn't catch him trying to listen in on their little conversation, Lincoln strained his hearing a bit so he could try to hear what the two men were talking about.
"…The seventh child in two months, Henry," the first man said to the second in a tone that was a clear mix of worry and righteous anger, "And worse yet, it was a girl from the class that my son CJ belongs to!"
"Isn't he the two-year-old, Carlos?" the second man, apparently named Henry, asked in a clearly concerned tone.
Shaking his head gently in the negative, the first man, apparently named Carlos, replied, "No, Carlitos is my two-year-old, Henry. CJ is my thirteen-year-old. He's my son that's in the special needs class."
"And you said that a girl from his class was the seventh child that the local youth gang got to?" Henry asked. After a somber nod in the affirmative from Carlos, Henry shook his head gently, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I knew that those local punks were horrible little hooligans, but to beat a special needs child?" Hearing that last line made Lincoln take pause; some local punk youths actually beat a special needs girl? What the hell was wrong with them?! And worse yet, that Carlos man said that she was the seventh child that this supposed gang had gotten to. How bad have things gotten?!
Shaking his head gently, Carlos continued, "I don't think that her being a special needs child has any significance, Henry. From what I've read in the local newspaper over the last few months, the kids come from varying walks of life." Sighing in a resigned tone that carried a hint of sadness, Carlos continued, "As far as I can see, the girl from CJ's class was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time when she crossed paths with some of the punks in that youth gang." With a sarcastic chuckle, Carlos added, "At least the local youth gang doesn't discriminate."
"Why hasn't the police done anything yet?" Henry asked his colleague.
Shaking his head gently, Carlos replied, "I have no clue, Henry."
Gently smacking the surface of the table in front of him, Henry said in a frustrated tone, "Pardon my language, Carlos, but this is fucking bullshit! That local youth gang has beaten a total of seven kids to death so far! How many more have to die before the police finally get off of their lazy asses and do something about it?!"
As he listened in on the conversation between Carlos and Henry, Lincoln nearly choked on a bit of s'mores-flavored toaster treat that he was eating. The kids that the youth gang had beaten were beaten to death. The boy without a family thought that he was bad off enough as it is, but in light of what the surprisingly foul-mouthed older man had just said, Lincoln felt as if he got off lucky (ha!) by merely being kicked out after being decried as bad luck by one of his ex-sisters. Despite Henry's sudden use of foul language, Carlos took what his colleague said in stride.
"I understand full well how you feel, Henry," Carlos remarked in a resigned yet understanding tone, "Given the age range of the victims, I'm worried that both CJ and Carlino might cross paths with that youth gang. At least my niece lives somewhere in the next state over and not in this city, otherwise I'd be worried about her crossing paths with the youth gang as well." The two men were apparently finished with their breakfast at that point, because they got up, took their trash over to a trash can, left their trays on a stack of trays nearby, then took their leave. After they were gone, Lincoln knew full well that, in addition to finding a way to start earning some money so that he wouldn't have to live off of charity, he was also going to have to find a way to stay as far away from any members of this local youth gang as possible.
Heading over to the local public library, Lincoln thought that it was a good place to begin his search for a way to start earning a living. Luckily for him, the boy without a family found a copy of the latest issue of the local daily newspaper. He promptly collected the discarded newspaper and began to scan the want ads for any possible job that may be willing to hire an eleven-year-old runaway such as himself. Unfortunately, the only available jobs he found were actually advertisements of local fast food places looking to hire; places such as that required prospective job-seekers to be sixteen years of age at a minimum. Lincoln let out a mild chuckle as he imagined his ex-sister who was obsessed with fashion trying to flip patties at a grill in a place like Burpin' Burger.
Setting down the discarded newspaper, Lincoln left the local library and began to look around the city for anyplace, anyplace at all, that may be willing to give him work in exchange for paying him. But given that he was an eleven-year-old whose greatest academic feat was getting part-way through the fifth grade, the boy without a family wasn't all that confident about finding a way to start earning a living. As he walked, Lincoln accidentally bumped into someone, as he wasn't watching he was going.
"Oof! Sorry!" Lincoln said as he looked up at who he bumped into; it was a Hispanic girl that Lincoln estimated to be roughly in the same age group as his two oldest ex-sisters. The girl wore her long black hair in a ponytail, and her outfit consisted of a simple blue sleeveless dress, one gold stud earring in each earlobe, one orange beaded bracelet, and brown boots that reached slightly up her shins; the tops of pink socks were barely visible above the ends of the boots. She also had a backpack on, indicating that she was a student.
"No, no, I'm the one who bumped into you," the Hispanic girl said in an apologetic tone. Looking down at Lincoln, the Hispanic girl asked, "Are you okay, kid?"
"I'm…just really focused on trying to find a way to earn some money is all," Lincoln replied.
A mildly confused look on her face, the Hispanic girl said, "How old are you, kid?"
"Eleven," Lincoln answered. Upon hearing Lincoln's response, the confused look on the Hispanic girl's face gained a hint of concern.
"Why is a kid your age trying to find a job?" the Hispanic girl asked, "What, do you have a relative whose birthday is coming up, and you're trying to earn money to buy them a gift?"
"Yeah, exactly," the boy without a family lied, believing that this older girl might contact CPS or the police or anyone else along those lines if she found out the real reason why he was trying to find a job.
"Aww, well aren't you the sweetest little kid," the Hispanic girl remarked, "Well, the girls and I in my fashion club at school is looking to get some help with setting up our booth at the school fundraiser that's starting tomorrow. I'm certain that I can convince the other girls to pay you for carrying some boxes and setting up a table or two for us." Lincoln couldn't believe that this older girl he bumped into was, out of the blue, offering him a one-time job. Granted, the boy without a family was desperate for any work he could get his hands on, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was, once again, surviving because he was being offered charity by someone. He wanted to be able to make his way on his own, damn it. …Still, Lincoln had to take what he could get, and if he did well at the older girl's fundraiser, then he might be able to make a reputation as an odd jobs person. That would certainly help.
"That sounds nice, miss…" Lincoln began to reply, but stopped short upon realizing that he didn't have the Hispanic girl's name.
With a bit of a giggle, the girl replied as she gently ruffled the top of Lincoln's head, "My name's Carlota." After removing her hand, Carlota continued, "I don't suppose you can tell me about your family member whose birthday is coming up, can you?"
As far as he was concerned, Lincoln no longer had a family. Still, he felt that it was best to humor this Carlota girl, especially since she was kind enough to offer him a one-time job. "Older sister, roughly my height," Lincoln said as he began to describe who he felt was the worst of his ex-sisters, "Really into sports."
"A girl that's into sports?" Carlota replied, her expression and tone both clearly conveying confusion. With a shrug, Carlota continued, "Meh, I guess there's all sorts of people out there in the world." Regarding Lincoln, Carlota asked, "Do you know how to get to the local High School?" After the boy without a family shook his head gently in the negative, Carlota took her backpack off, opened it, and reached in to grab something. Pulling out a mini spiral-bound agenda, Carlota handed it to Lincoln. It looked like one of those little numbers that were mass produced and handed out at the beginning of a school year.
"Don't worry, I didn't write in it," Carlota remarked, "And I can easily get another one at school. But that's beside the point. You should find my school's address somewhere within the agenda."
Looking up at Carlota, Lincoln gave a small smile, one that carried a hint of sadness, but was overall appreciative. "Thanks," Lincoln replied.
"The fundraiser will start at three in the afternoon," Carlota informed the boy without a family, "The local elementary school should be out by then." Realizing that Carlota must think that he's a student at the local elementary school, Lincoln merely nodded in thanks before he took his leave. As he walked, Lincoln thought about how nice of a person Carlota was; she was far nicer than any of his ex-sisters as far as he was concerned. In fact, the boy without a family felt as if Carlota would make for a much better sister than any of the monsters that he used to refer to as his sisters.
Lincoln bet that Carlota wouldn't decry him as bad luck.
The following afternoon, Lincoln made his way to the local High School, arriving sometime shortly before three. When Lincoln arrived, he saw that the fundraiser was already in the process of being set up. Within short order, the boy without a family found Carlota; she was talking to two other girls that must have been in the fashion club with her. After making his way over to Carlota and her friends, Lincoln got their attention. "Oh, there you are," Carlota remarked, "You're here a bit earlier than I expected."
"Well you said you and your club needed help with setting up," Lincoln pointed out, "Doesn't set-up take a bit of time to take care of?"
"He's got a point, Carlota," remarked one of the Hispanic girl's two friends, a somewhat pale-skinned girl with freckles and long, straight orange hair in a hime-style cut, with bangs even framing her face. This girl wore a cream-and-green colored hooded sweater-jacket, pants whose legs ended part way down her shins, and open-toed sandals.
"So, this is the little helper you told us about," remarked the other girl with Carlota, a girl who was noticeably but not excessively chubby, but in a way which made her look kind of cute. This girl had long chestnut hair that was a sort-of orange-brownish color, and she wore a white sleeveless dress with yellow trim, a yellow pleated skirt that reached a little more than halfway down her thighs, white stockings with yellow trim, and white shoes. She also wore glasses that had a white frame with yellow accents. Turning to regard Lincoln specifically, Carlota's second friend said, "He looks kind of cute. Made me wish I had a little brother."
"Oh, that reminds me," Carlota said as she turned around and walked to a nearby box that was sitting on the ground. Reaching into the box, Carlota fished around for a bit until she pulled something out. Walking back over to the boy without a family, Carlota said, "It's a little big, and I hope your sporty sister doesn't mind that it's technically a guy's jersey, but I figured that she'd like this as a birthday gift to her from me." Holding it out, Lincoln took a look at the article of clothing that Carlota just tossed to him; it was a professional football team's jersey, sized to fit men such as Lincoln's old neighbor Mr. Grouse. It was purple and yellow-gold in color; Lincoln's ex-sister who was into sports was a fan of the red-and-white professional football team, so much so that she insisted that her roller derby team make their team colors red and white, as a sort-of tribute to her favorite professional football team.
…But then again, Lincoln never intended to get that girl, or any of her sisters, anything ever again. If anything, the boy without a family figured that he could use this jersey himself. As he took of his backpack so he could put the jersey away, Lincoln said, "Thanks. I'm sure my sister will appreciate it."
With a smile that practically glowed, Carlota said, "I may know next to nothing about sports, but when it comes to fashion, I doubt that there's anyone who can beat me! I figure that your sporty sister would like that jersey, given that purple and yellow go well with-"
Carlota was cut off when some panicked shouts could be heard. Turning to see the direction the noise came from, Lincoln, Carlota and Carlota's two friends saw a group of kids of varying ages causing all sorts of trouble; they were knocking over tables, snatching the little money boxes that the booths were going to use to hold the money they earned during the fundraiser (those boxes would typically already have some money inside, incase a customer needed some change back after making a purchase), and even a few assaults. His eyes widening out of alarm, Lincoln said, "What the heck's going on?!"
Turning to face Lincoln and her friends, Carlota said to all three of them, "We got to get to cover. There's no way we can get into an encounter with those youth gang members and come out of it unscathed."
"R-right," Carlota's orange-haired friend replied with a nod as she led Lincoln towards the safety of the High School, with Carlota and the girl in the white-and-yellow outfit following along right behind them.
…
By the time Lincoln, Carlota and Carlota's friends came out of hiding, the youth gang members were already long gone. The boy without a family, along with the three older girls, were shocked with what they saw; every last booth, at least half of which weren't even fully set up at the time, was wrecked. Merchandise from various booths, some of said merchandise being in tatters, was scattered all over the ground. A few High School students were even nursing injuries. "H…how?" Carlota's orange-haired friends said in a tone of subdued shock as she and the others looked at the scene that laid before them.
"Wait a minute," Lincoln said suddenly, getting the attention of the three older girls. Looking up to Carlota specifically, Lincoln said, "Didn't you say something about a local youth gang before we all took cover?"
Her memory sparked by what the boy without a family said, Carlota nodded somberly once in the affirmative. "…Yes, they've been in the news as of late," Carlota began to explain, "They've been a public menace in the city for the last few months or so. Worse yet, the local police are taking forever to do something about it, even though the youth gang has been confirmed to have beaten at least seven kids to death at this point."
"What really shocks me is how they were able to do this much at a high school," Carlota's friend in the white-and-yellow outfit remarked as she gestured to everything around them, "I mean, from all reports that have been made, the youth gang members can't be any older than late elementary to early middle school. Everyone here was either a high school student or an adult working at the high school. I mean, surely there were enough people here to overpower the youth gang members, right?"
Shaking her head gently, Carlota replied, "Given that they've actually killed before, I doubt that anyone here would be willing to take the risk of-" Carlota stopped short when she noticed that Lincoln was starting to try and clean up the mess that was made of the girls' fashion club booth at the fundraiser. "Umm, kid, what are you doing?" Carlota asked.
"We can't let some jerks like that beat everyone down, can we?" Lincoln replied innocently enough, "At the very least, we need to clean up the mess here so that we can try again at a later time." After the explanation from the boy without a family, and as they watched him continuing to clean up, Carlota and her friends were touched by the boy's efforts. Deciding to follow his example, Carlota and her two friends proceeded to help him clean up the mess.
END, BROKEN MIRROR CHAPTER TWO
Author's notes:
The stage is starting to get set for the main conflict that I have in mind for this story. Anywho, the next chapter should see things get a little more intense, especially for Lincoln. Don't worry, though; Lincoln is not going to get seriously hurt/outright killed. Rattled by experiences that he's going to have, maybe. But no notable physical harm will be coming to the white-haired boy, I assure you.
