stealing to hurt verseXvioletssummers

[Verse]

Jin still had this chip on his shoulder.

Maybe it had started with his badness maturing in his boy body. People try to think on great calamity through sifting through its beginnings. He hadn't been a sweet boy, but he'd been a boy, at least, just finding himself. Maybe if he'd channeled his physicality into sports, instead, he would have been someone else. Maybe he'd found a productive outlet. But he found it in other children's faces and bones instead, with his feet and fists. The kind of thing that would have you rather unpopular on the schoolyard. But quiet infamy is useful for males. He threw his little weight around, and that was effective when everyone else had less. King of the sandbox, scourge of recess.

He was just getting used to the taste of power in his mouth when it turned bad. A video from a fucking knowitall. And then that was that. No more quiet. They'd shone a light on his darkness. A video of him pummeling a kid three classes his senior. Hospitalization. The fuck did they know, it was a fair fight, wasn't it? But it looked bad. And it worked out worse.

Or maybe it didn't.

Looking back now, maybe that's all there could have ever been. Jin Hamata sprung like a willow and used his long limbs to run the streets and swat down smaller trees. Paid his way with beatings, and then he got into other shit. He wanted it. He meant to do it forever. But one geezer who saw something in him, traded his small time operation for a slightly expanded one. Campus sales. Some of the students had deep pockets, and the beat was easier. Meant Jin had to enroll. There wasn't enough grease on the board to get him anything fancy, but he didn't mind the schoolwork, after so long. So he got into a loft for himself around the college, and his wares sold like hotcakes, over there.

Life was alright, and the nights were as he remembered; out of this world. Blood on his knuckles and chemicals for his veins, though he mostly stuck to the bottle nowadays.

And then he saw him, one day. The knowitall. Fucking Tim Green. Still had some of that babyfat but he'd grown up too. Freckled fucker with that mop of blond hair. Walking around like he hadn't shared a video that derailed Jin's life like a mile-long break in the tracks.

First instinct was to tear him down. With the reach Jin's gang had, it'd be easy to beat up one kid, even in the daytime, and get away with it. The geezer that backed him was worth a lot, in the organization. And Jin was going to do it, too, had his sleeve rolled up and everything, about to catch up to Tim, and catch Tim up. But he stopped shy of making contact. Tim was fucking happy. No. He was beaming. It grated his enemy so much he stopped, disgusted. And then he saw her.

Some pretty thing with a tan. Good curls on her hair and the same youth they all had in common on her dark skin. Jin tilted his head. Girlfriend? No. They were familiar but not in that way. Thought Tim looked like he wanted that. Her smile suggested that maybe there was something there, but something that hadn't gone all the way. Jin stopped back and lit a cigarette and waited. He didn't know why, but the reason manifested itself slowly in his chest.

That's it. He knew it when Tim said her name. Imama. That's how he'd get Tim. She was beautiful enough to be worth the trouble. And Tim was heart-deep enough to make it spectacular.

 

[violetssummers]

The only sound in the room was the constant scratching of her pen on the paper. Imama sighed and brushed a lock of brown hair that had wandered out in front of her face. She stared at the paper in front of her. What had once been words were just jumbled lines that she saw, but didn't quite understand. She pushed back on her high-backed chair and stared up at the ceiling of her roof. There was a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it. It was the story of her life, really.

Buzz...Buzz...Buzz....

Imama paused as her phone vibrated on the table in front of her. She reached out, tapped once on her phone, and brought it up to her ear.

"Hey Ims, let me guess. You're working?" came the familiar voice on the other end.

Imama grinned, some of the weariness of the day fading away in an instant. "I told you not to call me that," she said good-naturedly. "But uh...yep, just studying. Some council stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The voice on the other end paused for a heartbeat. "Err...you know we have the orientation tomorrow, right? You sure you're going to have enough energy for that?" Imama blinked before slapping her forehead with her free hand. "I completely forgot! Fuck! Thanks for reminding me." She stood up from her chair. "Can't talk then. I need to get some sleep, or I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow."

Tim was nothing if not understanding. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow. Better not be late, Ims." A second later, the call went dead. Imama sighed and started setting the stacks of papers and books in front of her aside. She needed to wake up early. Just how on Earth had she even forgotten? Tomorrow, she was one of a list of chaperones meant to show all the freshmen around campus. It was volunteer work, the kind of work that looked good to the admin and faculty. The kind of work you did if you wanted to start your own club or join the student council. In other words, it was exactly the kind of work she was meant for.

A few minutes later, she was tucked back into her bed. It was a new year, and she had a few resolutions she was going to get through before it ended.

 

[Verse]

It was easy enough to find out who she was. Her name was unusual, and her connection to Tim narrowed it down nicely.

Jin went down the rabbit hole. That also meant he had to go over Tim's social media. That guy had a pretty good life, despite being a fucking snitch. Jin's own pictures were provocative mostly, but sparse. As per the advise of some one the tech-savvier people working for his own group, he'd made a dummy account with boring output. It was hard to know what to post, but he tried to maintain it weekly. He had a handful of them, and would sometimes copout with repeat content. That was all useful now. Didn't think Imama would accept online attention from a guy who had scantly clad women and literal firearms in his front page. So the other accounts came in handy.

It was nuisance, though. Usually his scrolling reflected his interests. Which was more of the mentioned. He had ambition within the ranks of his current group, and also a keen investment in the llifestyle. He was finally focused on his career path. So he didn't mind overtime if it meant taking part in contraband, and distributing it. It usually came with other things boys his age were condemned for wanting. Dark eyes on a bright screen, he now had do the bidding of his bad intentions by looking through all the goodness of both motherfucking Tim, and Imama.

By what he could read, she was squeaky clean. The pictures suggested a comfortable friendliness between her and Tim, but even someone who was as emotionally out of tune from the quainter courtship between individuals of the preppier social tiers as Jin could see there was something in the way Tim looked at her, or smiled, in those pictures. The guy wanted more. And while there was a distance, Imama didn't seem to mind.

Jin had seen her before, though. In the eyes of the budding wild girls that held out their hands for him to fill with chemical treats, eventually. She hadn't had a bad influence yet. She might not know it, but there was an in for the ill intent small-time criminal. She was just waiting for the dark element in her life. To let some steam off. And to submit.

For now he made sure to find out her written media, and came across a list of resolutions. He would read it thoroughly, and see if he could use it against her.