Desolation Row

One

AN: There will be hella vulgar language in this, so if you're sensitive to stuff like that, I wouldn't recommend reading this.

"Tearing it up on Desolation Row, huh?" Pete said, reading the graffiti. "Ha! I fuckin' wish."

"Fuckin' hate it here, man," Bob muttered.

"Hey!" Gerard said. "Why don't  you pussies stop your whining and come have some fun?"

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Shut up, shitface," he said. "Listen, we're gonna go throw shit over the fence, you want in or not?"

Pete and Bob shuffled over to Mikey. Gerard pulled Frank off the curb to his feet. "Come on, baby," he said, "We're gonna fuck with the cum-junkies on the other end."

Frank laughed. "Sounds like a great plan, babe."

Mikey led the way out of the alley, down the street, to one of the many gaps between crumbling buildings filled with rubble.

"Hey, would you look at that?" Gerard said as Frank snickered slightly. "Two cunt-sicles decided to sit outside today!"

Mikey laughed sarcastically, picking up a piece of the rubble. "Big fuckin' mistake."

~

"Ray, duck!"

Ray nearly fell off the porch step trying to get down. He felt something graze the top of his ear, then he heard something hit the sidewalk. He could hear the obnoxious cheers of the kids on the other side of the fence.

Patrick picked the brick up off the ground. "Really? A whole brick? That's dangerous."

"You think they care, Pat?" Ray asked. Patrick shook his head. "I know they don't. But they know it is. They know it could take someone's head off."

"Like they're afraid of jail," Ray scoffed. "I know you want them to change, but let's just face it: they won't. The kids over there aren't like us. They're different, and they're dangerous. That's just the way it's always been. And it isn't changing anytime soon."

Patrick sighed. "Let's go inside."

They stood up and walked into the house, trailed by taunting calls of the trouble-makers they called neighbors.

"Don't," Ray said gruffly, pushing gently on the small of Patrick's back. He could tell that Patrick wanted to run back outside and yell at them, but Ray also knew that those kids wouldn't hesitate to jump over the fence and chase them down with knives.

And they both hated knives.

Patrick reluctantly walked up to Ray's too-big bedroom, then sat down on the bed. "Do you think they'd actually hurt us?" Patrick asked.

"You know they would," Ray said. "Didn't you hear about that one time Tyler got chased for three miles by those..." He trailed off, not wanting to say anything bad. "Um, people."

"Oh yeah," Patrick said, nodding slowly. "I remember. He didn't go near that fence for a week."

"Well, who would? Look, those kids are brutal. You don't want to get your butt kicked by them, or you'll end with a scar to show for it, just like Tyler did."

"I'm not as slow as Tyler, though. I won't get hurt."

Ray sighed, shaking his head. "You'll get hurt!" he cried. "Do you not have any idea how their minds work? They're weird, messed up, and uncultured. We may realize that it isn't okay to hurt our friends and stop chasing them, but those people over there are persistent. You might think they're done chasing you, but they aren't. They'll come break into your house three days later with their gang wielding knives to cut your stomach open."

Patrick give him a weird look. "Um... How do you know that?"

Ray shrugged, his cheeks going slightly pink. He figured it was pretty weird to know something like that.

"I just guessed."

Patrick nodded. "Cool," he said. "Anyway, I have to go home. We'll talk later."

"Alright. Want me to keep an eye out if those idiots from the other side are still there?"

Patrick nodded, and they walked downstairs. Ray waved to his friend as the shorter boy walked out. Luckily, the boys from the fence had left.

Ray hoped they wouldn't come back.

~

The boys howled with laughter as the brick whizzed past the boy's ear and hit the ground beside the other's foot.

"Shit, it missed 'em!" Gerard said. "Mikey, what the fuck?! Where's your aim, whorebag?!"

"Ah, fuck off," Mikey grumbled.

"I bet I could've hit the window, at least!" Bob said.

"Shut the fuck up, you cunt-bag!"

Bob glared at them, but he didn't fight back.

"Wait, look!" Frank pointed at the boys. They were standing up and going inside. That was a mistake, too. Pete began leading the others into a wild

"Where ya going, cocksuckers?!"

"Come on back, cum-sluts!"

"Come back and fight, you titty slappers!"

"Titty slappers?"

"Fuck you, ya meat curtains!"

Gerard flung an arm around Mikey and the other about Frank, and Pete fell into step beside them. "Come on," Gerard said, "Let's go find some other people over there to fuck with."

"Actually, I gotta run," Mikey said. He slipped out from under his brother's arm.

"Aw, ya gotta go so soon?" Frank asked.

"Nah, he don't gotta go nowhere!" Gerard said. "He's just pussin' outta fuckin' with those assholes over there. What's the matter, Mikes? Got somewhere else to be?"

"Yeah," Mikey huffed, "Got some dick to suck." He made an obscene gesture, which made them all laugh and cheer.

"Alright, if that's what you'd rather do." Gerard lifted his now free arm, allowing Pete to slide into the place where the younger Way had been. "See ya 'round, kid."

Mikey started walking down the cracked street, in the opposite direction from his friends. He slipped his hand into his pocket, lightly running his finger over the switchblade in his pocket. It was like a safety blanket, not that he'd ever admit that. None of those guys would admit something like that.

Mikey stopped into a small, hole-in-the-wall shop. He rang the little bell on the counter.

"The fuck you want?!"

"It's me, B!"

Brendon stepped out from the back room. "Hey, kiddo!" He jumped over the counter, ruffling Mikey's hair.

"Kiddo?" Mikey pushed Brendon's hand away. "I'm older than you!"

"Yeah, but I'm the one with the job."

"I have Gee."

Brendon grinned. "I know, kiddo. I know. Is he working right now?"

"Nah, he's throwin' shit at pussies over the fence. You can go join 'em, if you want. Dallon can cover the rest of your shift."

"What?!" Dallon's head poked out of the back room. "Y'all bitches talkin' 'bout me?!"

"We ain't talkin' 'bout you, ya spaz-dick!"

Brendon laughed. "Spaz-dick," he said. "I like that."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Anyway."

"What'd you come here for, kid?" Brendon asked, lowering his voice. "I know you only come here when you need something fucked up. Or when something fucked up needs fixing."

Mikey glanced at Brendon. "Not this time. I just... I'm going to tell you a story."