[Chapter One]

Written by: Me

Edward learned two very valuable things that early Friday morning.

 

He learned that leaving the orange juice carton unattended in a house of seven is not the best plan during breakfast hours, and that he should always carry a can of pepper spray on him.

 

"Dad just bought that carton two days ago," he whined, making his way to the Revolving Door Supermarket. Usually, he wasn't the one to go shopping since he almost never had any money on him, but he recently cashed a paycheck so he was the first one to be nominated.

 

He threw his head back and sighed as he turned the corner down the avenue. This was not how a perfectly good Friday was supposed to be spent! It was supposed to be used for early morning parties and social gatherings. And yet he couldn't even make it past breakfast without SOMETHING going wrong.

 

Just my luck, huh? he thought as he whipped out his billfold and counted how much money he actually had. If he thought this through correctly, he may be able to save some for later. Then again, he hadn't gone to the supermarket in a long time, so who knew how jacked juice prices were? For all he knew, it could be 20 bucks a carton, and he didn't want it THAT badly. He'd much rather just guzzle some pomegranete juice and call it good.

 

When he turned the second corner, he passed by the Snips & Styles hair salon. The door was open, so that meant that they were open for business. Music was playing, and as he passed by he covered his ears. Gahh, who dared play Rebbecca Black? To Ed, her voice passed through him as well as nails along a chalkboard. One of the hairdressers spotted him and bat her long eyelashes. "Heeey there, sexy!" she called, and the other girls chimed in with whistles and provacative invitations. He meekly waved hello before picking up the pace and bolting to the end of the street. Ghetto salon, he thought as he ran his fingers through his long and fine blonde hair.

 

It was true, any woman who looked at Ed was almost always taken aback by his model-good looks. He was incredibly muscular and had sun-kissed skin that seemed to glimmer in the dimmest lights. His eyes shrone like topaz gems, and his hair was always put into a neat braid. He was the very definition of the word "heartthrob", but he didn't like to be reminded. Of the few girlfriends he ever had, they only used him for his looks and not his personality. Thats why he preferred to stay out of long-term relationships. I mean, sure, he'd occasionally spend the night with a girl from a party, but was that really so bad? It's not like he went into those situations with the notion of actually being with the girl, and he made sure she knew that before things went anywhere. Love was always out of the question.

 

Edward felt himself grow anxious as he made his way into the "bad" part of the neighborhood. Gingerly, he slipped his wallet back into his pocket before straightening his light faux-leather jacket and looking straight ahead. The houses looked the part, no two ways about it. Shutters were falling off their hinges, lawns looked like something off of Animal Planet, and the "projects" had fancier cars than casino show rooms. Walls were splashed with graffiti, and Edward felt uneasy reading some of the profane sayings.

 

A gruff hand placed itself on Edward's shoulder, and he nearly jumped out his skin.

 

"Hey there, Pretty Boy."

 

Edward turned around and came face to face with an angry looking-man, who face was obscured by his hood. He could see a scar on his stubbled chin and a cut on his bottom lip, but that was about it. He gulped as the man circled him like a shark. "Saw that wallet you got. Looks nice." He got in Ed's face. "Hand it over."

 

Edward shook his head. "Um...no. Now if you'll excuse me--" he started to walk away, but he bumped into an even bigger man who seemed to be made of steel. He was twice Ed's height and had the build of a pro-wrestler.

 

This isn't good...

 

"You may not know who you're dealing with right now, Sweetheart," the hooded man began. "We're the Black Bird Sparrow Tribe, and unless you want to be Jim's new girlfriend..." he began, pointing to the large man, "...you'll pay our toll with that fancy wallet of 'yers."

 

Edward looked around and saw a few more men come out of the shadows. This was not going to end well if he didnt do something soon. He didn't know too much about fighting, so it wasn't like he could fend them off. Not to mention he was both outnumbered in physical strength and actual fighters. Instead, he began to scan the area for places to run and shortcuts to the police station.

 

"Look, fellas," Edwar said, throwing up his hands. "I don't got much money on me anyways, so this is kinda a fruitless venture. Why don't you go mug one of those snobby rich downtown guys?" he joked, but the scowls on their faces proved he was only digging a deeper grave for himself.

 

Jim grabbed Ed's jacket sleeve and brought him so close that you could smell the alchohol on his breath. "Do we really need to spell this out for you? Give us the wallet or you're backside is gonna hurting for weeks."

 

"Ahh, no, sorry, can't do that."

 

It was the hooded man who first pulled out his weapon--a sleek silver knife that looked like it had been used recently. "We're doing playing nice guy...last chance to walk away with your life, Pretty Boy."

 

Edward took this opportunity to dart between Jim and some other man who wasn't really paying attention. Unfortunately, Jim grabbed his jacket and brought him to the ground, straddling him so he couldn't get away.

 

Desperately, Ed tried slamming his fists into Jim's stomach, but it did little good. He was going to scream, but Jim covered his mouth and put his hand into Ed's pocket and grabbed his wallet. "You're going to hate life now, Pretty Boy," Jim said with an almost evil laugh as he grabbed both of Ed's arms and lifted him up. Edward struggled to break free, but it was obivous there wasn't going to be any of that.

 

Suddenly, the hooded man was thrown to the ground, his knife skittering along the pavement. Edward didn't have time to react before several other men began to fall, once who's head bounced off the curb. Jim dropped Ed on his back, and while he was re-couping from the pain he watched as Jim was flipped over onto his back by someone else.

 

"Ichi--"' Jim began before a strong fist was slammed right into his mouth. He was knocked unconcious, and Edward only watched in amazement as the man sighed like it was nothing. "Hey bro, you okay?" he asked, slowly approaching Ed.

 

Ed looked up at him. "I've been better," he said, rubbing his back and struggling to stand up. "Thanks for that. Who are you?" he said, extending his hand towards him in request for a handshake.

 

The man had deep black eyes that seemed to pierce right through you when he talked. He had short, spiked orange-ish hair and a rough build. It was obvious this guy knew his way around the streets.

 

"Im Ichigo, and yourself?"

"Call me Ed."

 

The two shook, and Ed smiled. "Eaten yet, Ichigo?"

"Um, no."

"Good! I was just on my way to get orange juice. Want some?"

Reviews

[Taylor H.]

This was very entertaining. You caught his voice and attitude pretty good :) I usually don't like fan fictions but this was really cute

[MadeCheaply]

Oh my God! I seriously thought Ed was gonna get raped >.<
I love the detail holy crap!