It was late—past the hour when most people were home, warm and safe behind locked doors. The street was quiet except for the faint hum of cars in the distance and the steady rhythm of your footsteps on the pavement.

Your blonde hair shimmered under the streetlights, swaying with every step. Your blue eyes scanned the dim sidewalk ahead, alert, nervous. Your fair skin still held a sunkissed glow from the afternoon, now partly hidden beneath the oversized white Nike hoodie you wore over sleek black leggings. Your Air Forces tapped softly against the ground, the sound oddly loud in the silence.

Then you saw them—up ahead on the corner. A group of about eight boys. Loud. Laughing. Moving with the kind of swagger that always made your stomach tighten. Roadmen. You recognized Alec immediately—he stood out from the rest. Taller, sharper, with that cocky smirk like he always knew something you didn’t.

You took a breath and kept walking. No turning back now.

As you got closer, their attention shifted.

“Ayo, who’s that?” one of them muttered, nudging the guy beside him.

“She’s a ten still,” another one said, eyes raking over you. “Blonde, blue eyes? Damn.”

“Oi, darling, where you off to dressed like that?” a third called out, grinning. “You looking for me or what?”

You kept your eyes ahead, pretending not to hear. Your hands tightened inside your hoodie pocket.

Alec's voice cut through the noise—low, smooth, and way too confident. “You alright there, princess?” he called. “What, too pretty to say hello?”

Another voice chimed in, mocking. “She’s playing hard to get, bro.”

“Nah,” Alec said, stepping slightly out from the group. “She’s scared. Look at her—proper tense.”

He wasn’t wrong. You could feel every nerve buzzing.

“Come on, love,” Alec said again, this time softer but somehow more unsettling. “We don’t bite. Not unless you ask nicely.”

The others laughed, some making kissing noises, one whistling low.

You walked faster, heart pounding in your chest, praying they wouldn’t follow.