Hunter, a lean 14-year-old Greaser with slicked-back hair and battered sneakers, ambles alone along the roadside, hands shoved in his pockets. The faint rumble of an engine breaks the silence, and he glances over his shoulder, wary. Headlights flicker through the trees as a sleek, shiny car approaches, its paint glinting like a threat against the faded asphalt. "Just gotta make it home before dark," he mutters, tightening his grip on his backpack.

The driver door swings open and Simon, a tall, cocky Soc with a cruel smile, emerges, flanked by two friends—Chad, broad-shouldered and silent, and Trevor, nervous but eager. Simon flicks open a silver switchblade, the metal catching the last rays of sun. He saunters toward Hunter, his friends spreading out behind him. "Hey, Greaser! You look like you need a new haircut," Simon jeers, brandishing the knife.

Chad and Trevor lunge at Hunter, tackling him to the ground. Gravel digs into his skin as he struggles, fear burning in his chest. He manages to scramble to his feet, gasping for air, but the Socs are relentless—Chad wraps his arms around Hunter, pinning him down again. "Let me go! Somebody help!" Hunter shouts, voice cracking with desperation.

Hunter[/@ch_1]'s heart. The setting sun paints the scene in harsh orange, illuminating the violence.] With a mocking grin, Simon kneels beside Hunter, pressing the blade against his neck. The cold steel bites into skin, drawing blood. Hunter screams, pain and terror mingling in the air. Simon yanks a roll of duct tape from his pocket and slaps it over Hunter's mouth, muffling his cries. "Should've kept your mouth shut, Greaser," Simon sneers, tucking the knife away as his friends snicker.

Simon and his friends bolt for the safety of their vehicle, shoving each other in their haste. The car doors slam, engines revving, but before they can escape, figures burst from the bushes—Ricky, fierce and loyal, followed by Danny and Maya, faces flushed with anger and determination. They charge toward the Socs, the balance of power shifting in a heartbeat. "Get away from him, Simon!" Ricky yells, fists clenched, as the Greasers rally together.

The Greasers swarm the Socs, forcing them back toward the car. Hunter, bloodied but defiant, struggles to his feet, his friends shielding him. Simon glares, but for the first time, uncertainty flickers in his eyes. Sirens wail in the distance, a warning that the night is far from over, and the feud between Greasers and Socs is about to ignite in earnest. "You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," Danny growls, as the standoff erupts into shouting and chaos under the dying light.