View Full Version : Original Fiction: Number One by J.R. King

06-12-2008, 01:55 AM
Number One, one of A Master At Work's first Manga and Anime productions is by one of our artist/writer/animator's J.R. King...To promote this heavily researched and written story we're leaking it all over the internet.

Rather than give a description of the story itself we'll just post it and let you interpret it. One thing I will say is that almost every genre of music plays a huge role in this story. If we do not get further permission, the published version will be available as well as downloads.

Due to forum rules we're only currently able to release the prologue of the story until we get further permission to post due to content (i.e. language and adult satire, etc.) still the story maintains substance. Attached is the unofficial character sheet for the story.

Number One

A group of five unstable youth’s live under one roof during their hectic school schedule and music career but what happens when the Silent Service gets involved?

PROLOGUE: Round and Round We Go

Location: LJVM Coliseum. Southeast North Carolina

Subject: Download Music Awards presented by: The Extend Hope Foundation.

“And the nominees for the Peoples Choice Award are…”

“Marcus Grier, Ghost in the Shell!”

“Danga-Mane feat. Gutta Bob, Get At Me!!”

“Rihana, SOS!”

“And Fort Minor Feat. Holly Brook, Where’d you go?”

There was a small pause of anticipation as the shadowed figure at the podium opened the envelope, reading the name on the card.

“And the youngest to win the award…Marcus Grier for the Ghost in the Shell!”

A wave of cheers and claps were heard as Marcus stood up fist to the sky with a wide smile. The song that earned him the award began to play.

“When there’s a ghost in the shell then it won’t end well. How you praying to God sendin’ ya brothas to hell? Time to wake up; realize there’s more to life than that.”

His cousin Makoto and other family clapped behind him at his table. This being a small event, it wasn’t being televised and the public would have to wait to find out about it was still a large step in the right direction. Marcus was part way down the aisle, receiving congrats from many other respected artists when a voice echoed. “You ain’t better than me, little...(word missing)”

Marcus’ attention was easily drawn and as he was shoulder charged and tackled to the ground, he would recognize the person as Gutta Bob.

“Oomph!” Marcus regained his step before falling back on the table a few other artists had sat at. He wouldn’t have long as the angry rapper launched himself from his feet in an attempt to stomp him through the table.

Everyone scattered as the fight broke out and the music ended abruptly. Marcus was young, though bold. Rolling off the table, Gutta Bob was the only one crashing through it. Danga-Mane and his entourage tried to step in, but before they could get close enough Marcus threw a large metal chair at the men, which easily halted the drunken posse.

This gave Marcus the opportunity to pick up a large shard of broken wood from the nearby table. "Oh, you gone give me a splinter?" Someone from the entourage heckled leading into laughter. Before they could get close enough to attack each other, bouncers and local policemen crowded the area. The enforcers grabbed any peoples who were remotely involved.

“Get the hell on the ground!!!”

“Hey let me go…!”

“Get off me!”

“Stop resisting!!”

“Hey man, get off me…Ah! Get these cuffs off me!!”

“These cuffs hurt..!”

“I’m real sick and tired of you thugs ruining everything…”

“Damn punks…”

Standby for Cut 1 - Branch 1: Realization, a Representation of Revitalization

06-16-2008, 07:08 PM
Cut 1 - Branch 1: Realization, a Representation of Revitalization

Opening Location: Jailhouse, Downtown Winston-Salem
Subject: Marcus Grier

Its noon and the strong arm of the law’s work was far from being over. A handcuffed and bruised Marcus wearing jail fatigue’s walked through the jailhouse, accompanied by an officer.

The two continued down the dimly lit hallway passing other officer’s and holding cells. The two stop before a set of double doors.

“Ok, time to go.” The officer briefly stated as removing the cuffs from Marcus’ wrists.

A female officer sitting behind a desk handed him the clothes he wore in before being booked and his personal effects. “You can change around the corner.”

As he did he mumbled something about missing denominations as he checks through the small, paper envelope holding his accessories.

“Is there a problem?” The nearby officer questions as he rests his hand on his baton begging for him to do something stupid.

“I meant…” Marcus stopped. “Right around the corner, here?”

“That’s right,” The officer responds. Eyebrows raised and hand tapping lightly over the police baton.

Marcus goes around the corner and shed’s the uniform. He reappears dressed in a collar shirt still bloody from the award show, blue jeans, and a pair of white athletic shoes. “Hope to not see you around.”

He grins, showing the peace sign as he pushes himself through the doors but is quickly stopped by the jailer. “You’ll need this…” He added as he handed the young man an envelope addressed to the police station. “Whoever sent this is responsible for your bail…”

”Bailed me out.” He raised an eyebrow at the officer as he took the envelope and proceeded to exit the building.

“By the way, try to stay out of trouble. I don’t want to see you back in here.” The officer finished watching the male exit.

This is weird… he thinks to himself walking outside to the edge of the street and calls for a taxi. “Yo!” He calls out as a taxi begins to swerve over.

“Hey…He…Hey, WATCH OUT!!” He jumps out of the way of the taxi as it pulls up onto the curb and screeches to a stop almost hitting a parked car. The man looks back to the police station and can see policemen running outside.

Marcus’ eyes grew large as he jumps into the taxi regardless of the reckless driver. “I know you saw me standing…” The man trailed off noticing the car was full of smoke as it sped off, leaving the cops at the police station.

“No need for blaspheme, Mon. Where ya headed to?”

“Listen dread-man; get me to 25th in one piece. Keep this thing in control and you’ll get a nice tip.” He sighs from almost being paved into the sidewalk.

“You got it, mon!” The Rastafari exclaims looking back to the man, half a spliff tucked between his lips turning back around just in time to miss a car merging into their lane.

In the backseat, Marcus only shakes his head as he opens the envelope and pulls out a couple items, but the letter gains his attention.

Dear Marcus Grier, despite the recent events that took place at the Extend Hope Foundation’s benefit last week, we are glad to inform you that we would love to have you fill the position of DJ and Composer.
This conclusion comes on behalf of the group itself (Fab Foe), and the label (Dream Beat Records). Also, to show you how much we would love to have you as Fab Foe’s new addition we have posted your bail (which is why you are reading this letter).
Enclosed in the envelope as well are a plane ticket and an ID card that will allow you access into Dream Beat’s headquarters.
Before taking any further action we ask that you give us a call to confirm your acceptance so that we have time to prepare your paperwork and contract upon arrival.
We look forward to your phone call and remind you once more that having you as the Fab Foe’s producer would bring us great tidings.

~Sincerely Ricky Lim, Manager

Marcus couldn’t help but grin at the good news of the letter as he closes it and begins to look over the plane ticket and blank ID Card. The dread-haired driver glances back at Marcus through the mirror. “You receive good news, rude boy?” He asks speeding around a corner, narrowly missing another car.

“I’m headed to Japan.” He said his voice full of surprise from the sudden news.

“Ja is pleased. Ya musta dun sumting right. Ya kno, Mon. We t’all make mistakes but t’its how we get through tem dat makes us who we truely ah.” The driver steers the car into Marcus’ neighborhood and his house appears.

“My house is right up here.” The car slowly pulls up to a small two-level house and Marcus begins to count out the amount to give the Rasta-man.

“Keep ya money, mon. You be a soulja of JA. Take care, rude-boy.”

Marcus pushes the door open. “Thanks a lot, mane.” He says in his Carolina accent, stepping out of the taxi sneaking a few bills in the back seat.

He watches the taxi pull off before walking up the porch. He fumbles with his keys before entering and closing the door behind him.

He looks around grateful to be back home kicking his shoes off by the entrance with the others. He felt starvation and fatigue coming over him.

“I can rest and get cleaned up in a second; I just need to find something out first.”

As he walks down the hallway on the first floor, Marcus can hear the sizzling of food coming from the kitchen along with the aroma. Marcus poked his head around the corner to see a familiar figure cooking over the stove. “Hey…” His tone was shaky.

A male figure looked over his shoulder to Marcus with a raised eyebrow. Once he noticed whom it was, the man turned around his expression delightful.

“Marcy, welcome home playboy!” He exclaimed as he approached Marcus and embraced him in a brotherly hug.

Marcus looked confused. “You feeling alright, Makoto? I could a sworn you’d have your foot halfway up my *** as soon as you saw me…”

“I think you got beat enough last week and you still look like ****.” Makoto turned to the stove. It was past noon by now, but breakfast was just being served.

“So…you ain’ mad?”

Makoto sighed, “Of course! I didn’t help you get this far just so you could get locked up.”

Marcus slid a chair from under the kitchen table and took a seat. He folded his arms one over the other as he leaned against the table.

“If you keep acting like this so called gangster-rapper’s you’ll find yaself in a tight situation.”

‘Now he sounds like my mom…’ Marcus thought to himself. ‘At least I’m not getting my *** kicked.’ He felt a slap to the back of his head making him sit up to find his cousin hovering over him.

“Damnit…” Marcus sighed looking down at the table. He could never look at Makoto when he had that dreadful expression on his face.

“Keep ya head up. You know I hate to complain, but you gotta wake up. You get paid to make music! A worldwide dream. You beat all odds.”

Makoto grinned and placed a big plate of breakfast food in front of him. “Eat up.” He still seemed displeased.

“You’ll be glad to know I got a new gig.” He exclaimed feeling proud of himself.

“You kidding, right? I made the arrangements. If it wasn’t for them you’d still be in jail.” Makoto said as he sat at the table with Marcus, ready to eat.

“What?” Marcus blinked. “Wow, thanks so much…MANAGER.” Marcus exaggerated, using his fork to play with the scrambled eggs on his plate.

Makoto’s eyes narrowed at Marcus again. “Just because I left you in jail to learn a lesson don’t mean I stopped caring.”

“I got the call from them the night after the ‘incident’ and I told them if they wanted you so badly then they would post your bail….”

“Anyway, you gonna go see that girl of yours before you leave?” Makoto tried changing the subject.

Marcus half paying attention as always quickly eats his food, swallowing hard once Makoto mentioned the female. “She’s not my girlfriend, I told you that.” He said firmly.

“And whose fault is that? Makoto teased with a keen smirk as he leaned into the kitchen table.

“Yeah, I might go…” Marcus uttered timidly after chewing down another bite of food.

“In that case there are a few things…”

Marcus wanted to avoid the topic while Makoto egged him on. Luckily for Marcus a knock at the door disturbed them. Makoto immediately looks at Marcus warily but he seemed just as clueless as Makoto himself.

“Who’s there?” Both cousins called out before Makoto opens the door to reveal a middle-aged man dressed in an expensive suit.

Both Makoto and Marcus’ expression’s turn blank. “Oh, it’s just you, Deni.” Marcus mumbles, standing behind his cousin.

“What are you doing here?” Makoto’s voice didn’t show much enthusiasm.

“C’mon, guys! Is that anyway to greet your old pal?” The man smiled a conniving smile though his intentions were good his personality was given away by that grin.

“Whatever.” Both Makoto and Marcus said in unison as they let the man in.

“I’m glad to see you. Especially, Marcus I heard he was due to sign with an overseas record label. Just wanted to say congrats.again.” The man patted Marcus roughly on the back.

“Yeah, so where were you when I was locked up. I don’t know if you knew or not. It was on CNN.” Marcus’ bland tone of voice along with narrowed eyes showed how he felt.

“Yeaahhh, about that.” But Makoto interrupted him when he stepped in.

“C’mon cuz! It’s getting harder to bail you out time after time. Right Deni?” Makoto finished with a nervous laugh, jabbing the man in the ribs.

Marcus cocked an eyebrow, something was up but he wasn’t sure, and not being very patient shrugged it off. “I’m going upstairs to get some sleep. Oh, I got this letter and it says to call them to confirm, so take care of it…Manager.” Marcus slapped the paper against Makoto’s chest forcing him to take it.

Marcus began to disappear up the flight of stairs. “Alright Marcy.” Makoto said.

“Rest well!” Deni added, in that same nervous tone of voice Makoto had just presented.

“Snake…” Marcus mumbled.

“What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you remember what I said?” Makoto led Deni back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I remember. I just don’t want the kid to think that I don’t care.” He whispered to Makoto.

“Listen…he doesn’t know and it’s gonna stay that way till we get there. I almost had to beg the record executives to reconsider.” Makoto seemed stressed as he ran his hand through the tiny locks hanging inches from his head.

“No worries. I’ll disappear until then.”

“Listen, you screwed up. This is your last chance, so whatever fetish you have with the color green you better get over it and start thinking of my cousin’s best interests…”

“Otherwise you’re gonna find out where we come from and it ain’t uptown. Got it?”

Makoto finished, by that time he’d already managed to find a handful of Deni’s tie seething inches from Deni’s fretful face. “Now, get out. I don’t want to see you until signing period.”

06-20-2008, 01:10 PM
Cut 1 - Branch 2: Conflict

Opening Location: Yokohama, Japan ~Home of Dream Beat Recordings~
Subject: Fab Foe

“I don’t get it! Why does HE have to be the one making the music for our group? What about our vow!”

“No, Setsuko…you and Mika vowed.” Sumiko interjected from across the marble table within a meeting room. She leaned back in the black business chair folding her arms one over the other.

A large marble table took up most of the space, besides the snack bar. Against one side of the wall, a large T.V. showcasing several channels at once and HD radio’s tuned for the hottest stations. Part of the wall was lined with platinum records from other artists.

The group sat in meeting, discussing the arrangements to be made for Marcus’ arrival. Setsuko was stirring up trouble and trying to speak for everyone.

Sitting beside Sumiko was back up singer #2, Noriko AKA Nori. Across from her, Mika who was hanging onto every word that Setsuko spoke from her right hand side.

At the front, center chair sat Ricky Lim the coveted yet humble General Manager of Fab Foe who could hardly get a word in.

“You have to understand that we need him. He’s taken part in selling millions of records worldwide. Awards! We need that kind of contribution to the team.” Ricky noted.

“So they hired a criminal to make music for us?” Mika scoffed, completely ignoring the logic in the manager’s words.

“Some gaijin! Who wouldn’t know what to do with our vagine if we showed it to him?” Setsuko added. Noriko gasped while Mika was hysterical with laughter.

Sumiko seemed slightly appalled. “You two are unbelievable,” Ricky continued. “He’s gonna be a new member of the group, like it or not. He’s made a few mistakes…no one’s perfect. Ricky smiled.

“He’d better not touch ANY of my stuff when he moves in, either. So, help me if he does…” Mika began.

“That’s a cruel thing to say, especially considering where you got your STUFF.” Noriko chimed in. Though she was silent during most meetings, she wasn’t afraid to share her opinions.

“If you think that much about it, he can room with me. My room is the largest.” Sumiko added arms still crossed sticking out her tongue.

“He’s not even here yet and you’re already whoring yourself?” Setsuko chimed while pointing her finger at Sumiko causing the girl to sweat drop.

“It isn’t like that; get your mind out of the gutter.” Sumiko muttered.

“Learn about him and be ready to welcome him…this is gonna be an improved group.” Ricky smiled; glad he had Sumiko and Noriko on his side.

“Shut up, your just a manager!” Mika added decisively.

”Yeah! Go wait outside; we can finish this meeting without you.” Setsuko pointed to the large double doors hovering over the poor manager.

Knowing the complete history of their combined wrath, Ricky obeyed and silently exited to avoid further conflict.

“Kicked out the meeting again, huh?” A secretary asked with a soft smile from behind her desk. Ricky could only sulk and shrug as if it didn’t matter causing the secretary to laugh.

Inside the conference room, the group finished up the meeting. “I think it’ll be good, I don’t mind it so much.” Noriko added before getting up and silently leaving the room.

Mika slammed her fist on the table, not liking where this was heading. “Dream Beat has native rappers and composers, why can’t one of them help!?” She shouted in a near pout.

“For one, no one else will compose for the group we already been over that. Two, everyone is far too busy with their own projects to help even if they wanted to…”

“Three look at how you and Setsuko are acting. No one wants to work with the two hardest heads on the label!” Sumiko pointed out.

She unfolded her arms, pointing her index finger towards the two. “Like the time you two skipped out on that benefit and ended up getting charged with public drunkenness…”

“It was lame!” The two chimed in at one time.

“It was for charity! That so-called criminal has done a lot of contributing.” Sumiko retorted pushing herself out of her seat.

“This isn’t a choice, the chairmen of the company has ordered it to make sure you two comply with this. It’s their way or the highway.” She huffed.

“You two better suck it up before we pick him up at the airport and sign that contract.” The lead singer finished as she stood up, slamming her hands on the table, then left the room.

The doors flew open revealing Sumiko as she stepped out, a small grin on her face as she gave both Noriko and Ricky a thumb’s up.

“Well, I’m off.” Sumiko announced with a wave of her hand, passing the two.

“Where ya off to?” Ricky questioned his head turning as he watched her walk pass.

“Shopping,” she winked. “Gotta look nice for the newbie.” She paused.

“He won’t be alone. His cousin, Makoto and his lawyer will be tagging along as well.” Ricky responded

Sumiko nodded looking to Noriko. “Great, more of a reason! Hey, Nori wanna tag along?” She asked winking.

“Uh...” Noriko responded, trying to come up with an excuse for not shopping.

“Come on, we’ll get you something nice too!” Sumiko urged on.

“I.don’t know…” Nori responded, hands in her lap. She was never high on shopping nor very materialistic.

“Sure you do, now lets go!” Sumiko said grabbing her wrist and pulling her along. “See ya, Ricky!”

Ricky sweat drops while waving them off as Sumiko drags poor Noriko along.

Opening Location: Yokohama, Japan
Subject: Crime scene of a shootout

Meanwhile a few blocks away, law enforcement gathered around what looked to be a mob scene at a housing complex.

The area was barricaded with citizens from the complex and news teams gathered around behind the taped off area trying to make headlines. A handful killed and a dozen seriously injured.

Bodies lay lifeless on the concrete, cars smoking from the lead that had been put through them, other cars had blown up leaving debris spread everywhere.

The fires had been put out earlier by firefighters before any other law officials could set foot at the epicenter of the crime scene.

The sun reflected off the broken glass on the bloody, gory ground while forensics swept through the area. Ambulance’s came and went like clockwork to collect the deceased and help the injured.

An unmarked car pulled up outside the taped off area, one foot stepping out as the ignition cut. The car door slams shut as a tall figure coolly approached the crime scene.

He wore shades concealing his gaze and a gray sports jacket over a white dress shirt to match gray slacks with black dress shoes.

He moved his open sports jacket aside to flash the other officer’s his badge. As he was allowed to step through the gap in the guarded barricade another detective approached to brief him on the situation.

“Detective Ross?” The approaching detective questioned as he extended his right hand out to the shaded man.

Ross only nodded ignoring the man’s gesture studying the area then turned his attention back to the officer. “Any thoughts?” He asked as the officer led him into the main area of the crime scene.

“A good old fashion shootout…” The other detective began but was cut off by Ross.

“I can see that it was a shooting, what was the reason?” Ross replied in a snappy yet smooth manner.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got some Temple Dragons and Dynasty gang members here. Their tats gave us that much.”

“An ambush?” Ross questioned as he kneeled by marked off evidence. He slipped on a pair of surgeon’s gloves before picking up a book of matches. As he turned the matchbook over, there was a logo that read, “Dream Beat Records.”

“And this?” Ross asked, looking back over his shoulder holding the matchbook up.

“Well, we found it on the ground by one of the bodies.” Upon closer observation, Ross noticed a partly smoked cigarette also marked off as evidence.

The detective cleared his throat, then pulled out a small baggy tossing the matchbook and burned out cigarette inside of it.

Ross glanced over his shoulder again but the other man was busy with some female officer. "Detective Ross, I'd like you to meet..." By the time the two looked back, Ross had disappeared from the scene.

06-25-2008, 01:35 PM
Sorry I had trouble with font color changing for some reason

Cut 1 - Branch 3: Return to the Path of Righteousness

Opening Location: Home of Marcus and Makoto W-S, North Carolina
Subject: Marcus/Makoto Grier and Anjeline

Marcus emerged from the bathroom only wearing a pair of clean boxers and the shower cap pulled over his dreads. He moved across the hallway to his room, slamming the door closed.

He turned on his sound system taking the cap off, peering around his room to make sure he had everything.

“All red Chevrolet, 26’s ridin’ high, Dukes of Hazard doors…In Compton we call em suicides. Suede roof, leather seats, wood grain stearin’ wheel, candy apple hardtop, Game number on the grill.

“California license plate, ridin’ through the ATL. Keep my tires ballin’ I never leave a paper trail. Nah, I keep em clean, ball when I hit the scene, elbow out the window, show em’ how to gangsta lean.”

Let the sun shine in and the bass jump out, hit the block, fifteens vibratin the whole f***** house.”

Marcus pulled his luggage on the bed so he could run inventory. “I have clothes.” He said as he shut the first kit.

He zipped up a duffle bag of compact discs loaded with samples. Notebooks filled front to back with lyrics. He also had Black Warrior pencils, a mini-disc player with mini-discs, and his laptop.

“Hit the block on some new ten-thousand dollar rims, can’t explain how I feel…”

Marcus pulled on a pair of blue jeans, a black tank top, and a pair of shoes new out the box.

“I’ma show ya how to ball, middle finger to the law…”

Pulling the shoes on his feet, there was a knock on his door, and he reached over, turning the stereo off.

“Yeah," Marcus called out to his cousin in the hallway.

“Better get a move on if you’re gonna say your goodbyes.” Makoto reminded from the hallway.

“Aright, damn” Marcus retorted as he laced shoestrings through the loopholes upon size 121/2 feet.

From the opposite aspect of the door, Makoto’s phone could be heard ringing. The door muffled his cousin’s voice as he received the call and went downstairs.

Marcus stepped out and made his way downstairs but paused. He could still hear Makoto on the phone. This didn’t matter since Marcus knew little to no Japanese, especially when spoken fluently.

He sighed from his failed attempt to follow his cousin’s dialect and continued to make his way downstairs.

“What the deal is cuz?” Marcus beamed as he arrived in the kitchen. Just as he did, Makoto quickly flipped his cell closed.

“Marcy, how long you been there?” Makoto spat. Marcus raised a single eyebrow.

“What fo?” Marcus retorted with a small smirk.

Makoto frowned. “What did I tell you about that useless slang?” He asked, putting the phone on the kitchen table.

“Mane, get out my ear.” Marcus grinned wider and made his way passed Makoto to the fridge to find an energy drink and turned to face his cousin a.

It wasn’t unusual that Makoto was on the phone, it was normal given the fact he was his manager. Also speaking Japanese on the phone was nothing new though something didn't seem right.

Makoto sat down at the kitchen table his hand playing with the phone, spinning it on the table’s surface. Marcus guzzled down half of the drink as he sat on the table’s top.

“Shouldn’t you get going?” Makoto asked, glancing up to his cousin.

“I ain’t goin anywhere yet.” Marcus retorted, going to swig more of the energy drink.

“I can feel my IQ dropping already.” Makoto commented with the shake of his head.

“On second thought, I’m out.” Marcus hopped off the table, leaving the empty can.

“By the door…” Makoto called after him as he watched Marcus head out.

“I got it!” Marcus picked up the grocery bag and exited. “Peace!”

“Be safe.” Makoto called out as the door closed; meanwhile he picked up the phone again.

Marcus made his way down the side street of his neighborhood. The brown paper grocery bag clutched under one arm as he made his way down the block.

Meanwhile in a nearby alley, a girl with flowing red hair was being harassed. She was thrown back against the alleyway wall by some local thug.

The red head dropped her purse, sending the contents flying everywhere.

The local gangster only smirked. “Thanks for the thought but the hat ain’t necessary.” He said as he kept her hands pinned above her head.

“Like you know what to do with it anyway!” She retorted spitting in the man’s face as she struggled to break free. She kicked him in the gut forcing him back.

Irate as saliva trailed down the side of his face, the thug pulled a gun from the back of his pants. He cocked the firearm then aimed at her, tilting it improperly to the side.

The fiery young red head frowned menacingly before biting her lower lip then surrendered, raising both hands slowly above her head. Back in control, the gangster wiped the spit from his face with his own menacing smirk.

Reaching for her again, the gun was suddenly kicked out of his grasp a few feet away. Luckily, the firearm didn’t go off as it bounced across the cracked pavement.

The red head attempted to run for the gun but was stopped by her flowing strands of hair and pulled down causing the back of her head to smack the ground. “That’s what I thought.” The thug laughed mockingly.

She now groaned from the pain in her head as her assailant began to remove her skirt. She fought and kicked, getting a few more blows in.

Still, it wasn’t enough to match the adrenaline of the hood that rewarded the feisty girl with a backhand to forehand combo upon either side of her face to get his point across.

The pretty girl’s vision began to blur, beginning to feel lightheaded. Her cheeks were bruised and throbbed from the combo. The male attempting to rape her slid the white cotton panties from her hips, past her thighs.

The girl’s eyes were closed tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks whimpering in desperation. She’d fought as much as she could.

She felt her blouse rip and heard the buttons patter against the cement of the warm ground beneath her as the man opened her shirt. Due to the heat she wore no bra beneath.

The assailant smiled from ear to ear, fondling her bosom in a proud manner. “Just moan and enjoy it.” The thug teased again as she gasped and attempted to fight once more albeit futile or practical.

Her vision blackening though well aware of pain as her tear-streaked face received another blow to both cheeks. The brutality so far proved the man’s relentlessness.

The girl’s crying only fueled the man’s sexual inhibitions. “What are you complaining about?” He taunted, reaching between her legs.

The last words the girl would hear, “What the hell are you doing?!”

Marcus boomed the words from the entrance of the alleyway, not faltering to approach the rapist feeling up the passed out red head.

The unknown thug stood tall with a look of frustration yet he seemed to express little worry. He gave a shrug at Marcus’ question.

“Back down or you done for, youngin.” The man said as Marcus closed the distance though he kept some space between them.

This made Marcus smile in silence dropping the bag under his arm but didn’t respond waiting for the man to throw a punch, which he hastily did.

The young DJ dodged the attempt by ducking down, then swiftly delivered two adrenaline driven punches to his gut. Just as quick as the combo had come, an uppercut landed right under the thug’s chin sending him back.

The chilling blows left the thug filling with more anger while Marcus bounced confidently from foot to foot before switching up his stance. “Love don’t live here for you no more, I suggest you get go.”

The man pushed himself from the ground, frustrated with the overwhelming distraction, and charged at Marcus landing a blow across Marcus’ jaw making him stumble back.

Despite this, Marcus recovered quickly enough to dodge the follow up and a countering straight kick busted the hood’s nose with blood splatter.

Marcus used a bit of boxing influenced footwork to dodge the wild volley of strikes thrown at him. Making him miss his last hit, Marcus jumped up and came back down on top of the assailant’s head with his elbow.

Marcus grabbed the man around his waist, lifting him from his feet in a bear hug, as he lifted and shoved the man head first into the brick wall behind him.

The only result was the bone crushing resonance of his neck before Marcus body slammed him into the cement, landing on top of the man’s now lifeless body.

“You just got owned, *****…” Marcus spit on him once he was on his feet then kicked the assailant in his rib cage causing a bone to pierce a lung.

He gazed over to the passed out red head apprehensively while the unknown thug gasped his final breaths.

He made his way over to the dazed girl, his breathing labored from the melee. As he kneeled at her side he was surprised to see that he knew the girl. “Anjeline…” He whispered.

Anjeline had since been taken home, now awake upon her bed. She clutched Marcus tightly around the neck, easily choking the young man. “Marcus, thank God.” She choked.

He was being choked, eyes widening. If not for the dark tone of his skin, he may have been turning purple. “N...No problem.” He gasped for air.

Her grip began to loosen and she peered up at him with wide eyes, smiling brightly. Her loveliness only made him return the false smile. Still, it was odd to see her vulnerable as he always knew her to command respect.

However that didn’t last long as Anjeline suddenly smacked him once and then once more, knocking him from the edge of the bed. “Jackass!” She scoffed at Marcus who was flat on his back.

“First you hit and miss. Now you run off to Japan.” Marcus rose back to his feet in time to meet her death glare. “Some friend.” She punched him in the chest, anything but weakly making him hold the area where she hit.

Marcus sat back down bedside though given her state; he was at a loss for words. She opened glossy eyes, looking up to him for an answer.

“I’m glad you’re well.” He managed another smile over bruised cheeks.

She remained silent, though her hand would reach up and grab his wrist tightly. She blinked, swallowing rigidly before speaking. “I want you...” She choked.

Marcus grinned. “I don’t think...” Marcus’ accent evident as he spoke before being cut off.

“To get lost! Tch...” Anjeline’s eyes glistening as tears welled up.

Marcus could only sigh, pushing himself up to his feet.

“So, you’re just gonna turn your back on your friends, this community…me?”

As she spoke, Marcus had nonchalantly gone to the door before he peered over his shoulder. “This is my mess and this is the only thing open to me. This is what I have to do to get back on the right path.”

“And then.” Anjeline’s eyes streamed with tears, a small stream forming upon her cheeks.

“Then…” Marcus began; head tilted down before he returned confident eyes to her. “I come back a winner.” He signaled peace to her then disappeared into the hallway.

“If you get over your anger, I’d be glad to have you come to Japan for awhile.”

{Cut 1 - Branch 4: As We Continue On...Coming Soon}

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