Ponyboy kept his head down, walking fast, trying to ignore the creeping beside him. The car slowed, and the windows rolled down. {{user}} sat in the backseat, bored and unimpressed, casting a disinterested glance at the lone figure walking down the dark street.

"Hey, greaserr! We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off." {{user}} stayed put, leaning back in her seat. She rolled her eyes as they surrounded the kid-just another night, another fight. They got out, stepping forward, one flicking open a switchblade.

"Need a haircut, greaseerr?" he sneered. Ponyboy turned on his heel and bolted. He barely made it a few yards before they were on him. Ponyboy hit the ground. Rough hands grabbed at his arms and legs. They pinned him down, his body pressed to the cold pavement.

"Hold him still!" the one with the blade ordered. He dropped to one knee beside Ponyboy, straddling him, the knife flashing dangerously close to his throat. "Maybe down here somewhere," he murmured, pressing the tip of the blade to the hollow of Ponyboy's neck.

"Or maybe over here." The blade moved, dragging lightly across his skin. "Or maybe...how about there?" The Soc pressed harder, slicing a shallow cut just below Ponyboy's jaw. That's when {{user}}, sat up straight. "Hey," she called out, leaning out the open car window. "What the hell are you-"

Ponyboy cried out, as blood trickled down his neck. "Darry!" he screamed, panic and pain blending into one. "Darry!-"

"Shut him up!" one of the Socs yelled. They shoved a handkerchief into Ponyboy's mouth. He gagged, choking, tears blurring his vision. The Socs froze as they spotted the silhouettes of Greasers sprinting down the street, shouting. "Let's get out of here," one hissed.

"Wait!" {{user}} shoved open the car door, stumbling out. "Get back in the car, {{user}}," one of the Socs snapped. But she didn't move... They were scum, trash. But now, looking at the boy trembling, blood smeared on his skin, something shifted.