Gangster to Idol

The air was thick with the briny tang of the sea and the sharp bite of tension.

Dim streetlights flickered weakly, casting long, eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. In the silence, the only sound was the distant, rhythmic lapping of waves against the dock's supports.

The scene was set for an inevitable clash between two rival gangs, each drawn to this forsaken place by the promise of power and territory.

At the edge of the dock, a group of men in leather jackets and scarred faces — members of the Iron Vipers — milled about, their eyes darting nervously.

They were led by Viktor "The Snake" Ivanov, a burly man with a serpentine gaze and a thick scar running from his brow to his cheek. His voice was a low growl, carrying a menacing edge. "They're late. Typical of CROSS to keep us waiting."

"Maybe they're too scared to show," muttered one of Viktor's men, his knuckles cracking as he gripped a baseball bat.

"Or maybe they're planning a surprise," Viktor replied, his gaze fixed on the darkened end of the dock.

Suddenly, the heavy thud of boots echoed through the dock as CROSS arrived, their leader, Cain "The Beast" Carter, striding at the front.

Cain was a towering figure with a steely glare that commanded instant respect. His long, dirty gray hair flowed with the wind, and the many tattoos covering his body peeked out from under his sleeveless shirt, telling stories of battles fought and victories won.

His voice boomed through the night, dripping with sarcasm. "Looks like you're all ready to get your asses handed to you."

"Funny," Viktor sneered, stepping forward. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Tension crackled in the air as the two leaders faced off. Around them, the members of both gangs bristled, weapons at the ready — knives, chains, and improvised bludgeons.

Without warning, the first blow was struck. A member of the Iron Vipers swung a chain, its links hissing through the air. CROSS response was swift; a machete flashed in the moonlight, and the two sides clashed in a brutal, chaotic melee.

The sounds of combat — grunts, shouts, and the clatter of metal — filled the dock, mixing with the distant howl of the wind.

Amidst the chaos, Viktor and Cain fought hand-to-hand, their movements a brutal dance of skill and raw power. Viktor jabbed with a knife, while Cain parried with a thick iron pipe, each man's eyes locked to each other.

"You think you can take me down, Viktor?" Cain roared, slashing with the pipe. "You're out of your league!"

Viktor grinned through a split lip, dodging a swing. "I'm not here to play games, Cain. I'm here to claim this district!"

The moonlight glinted off the rusted metal beams as Cain and Viktor circled each other. Cain's steely glare met Viktor's serpentine gaze, each man's breath misting in the cold night air.

The dock was a silent witness, its decrepit structure groaning under the weight of the impending clash.

Without warning, Viktor lunged, his knife flashing in the dim light. Cain sidestepped with lightning speed, delivering a swift kick to Viktor's ribs that sent him stumbling.

The Iron Vipers leader recovered quickly, slashing wildly, but Cain was already moving. He ducked under Viktor's arm, landing a powerful uppercut that snapped Viktor's head back.

Viktor growled, swinging his blade in a desperate arc. Cain caught his wrist, twisting it with a sickening crack. The knife clattered to the ground, and Cain's fist followed, striking Viktor's jaw with bone-jarring force.

Viktor staggered, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay upright. Cain didn't relent. He drove his knee into Viktor's gut, knocking the wind out of him, then followed with a spinning backfist that sent Viktor crashing to the ground, unconscious.

A heavy silence fell over the dock as the Iron Vipers froze, their leader lying defeated at Cain's feet.

"Retreat!" one of them shouted, panic in his voice. They fled into the shadows, dragging their leader away, leaving the dock to the victors.

CROSS members erupted in laughter, their cheers echoing across the abandoned dock. The excitement of another victory against a rival gang wanting to claim District 4 was palpable.

Cain, however, remained calm. He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, his expression impassive.

"Another one bites the dust," Bones muttered, his tall frame silhouetted against the dock's eerie glow. With his colorful afro bouncing as he spoke, he scanned the retreating Iron Vipers with a happy laugh. "Ohohoho! We won again!"

"Bunch of cowards! All bark and no bite!" Joker spat, his sharp green hair slicked to perfection. He tried to look older than his years but had a youthful edge that made his disdain even more pronounced.

"Forget about those losers," Cain said, lighting a cigar with a practiced flick. He turned his back on the fallen rivals, his voice booming as he announced. "Drinks on me! Let's go!"

"Yesh!"

"Alright!"

Cheers erupted from CROSS members as they followed Cain. Joker playfully draped an arm over Cain's shoulders, and Bones' laughter rang out in his trademark haunting tone.

Bones and Joker were Cain's right-hand men, loyal from the early days of the gang. They were more than just crew; they were brothers forged through countless battles.

=== ⭐ ===

After a night of bar hopping and celebration, it was 3 a.m. when everyone stumbled home. Cain, Joker, and Bones crashed in their HQ — a converted storage shed on the outskirts of town.

"MaaAaAnnN . . . those Iron Vipers were nothing," Joker slurred, his words thick with booze.

Bones chuckled, his laugh echoing in the night. "Ohohohoho! It takes more than muscle to take us down, especially with Cain here."

Cain simply smiled, savoring the night's victory.

As they stumbled home, a group of girls passed them, their faces twisted with disgust as they huddled together, trying to distance themselves as much as possible from them.

"Huh? What's wrong with you girls?" Joker asked, making the girls even more frightened as they scurried away.

"You should be thanking us!" Joker yelled after them. "Without us, those jerks would be roaming these streets, harassing you!"

"Enough of that," Cain reprimanded, his voice said that he couldn't be bothered with how the others thought of them.

Jocker clicked his tongue. "Tsk. They aren't my type anyway."

They passed a billboard across the street, glowing with the image of a stunning woman. Her beauty seemed to outshine the stars themselves.

"Whoa . . . of course, nothing still beats Raneisha's gorgeous face," Joker said, snapping out of his haze.

Bones laughed. "Ohohohoho. She's a top idol. We're just nobodies. No way she'd ever look our way."

"What?!" Joker snapped, facing Bones. "She's a GODDESS! The reason why I'm alive today. She's not just an idol — she's THE idol! The biggest celebrity in the world! A mere mortal like us couldn't even dream of talking to her!

We should be grateful just to see her and hear her voice!"

"Hey, you're too loud," Cain said, though Joker continued to rave about Raneisha like a simp in a trance.

Cain sighed and glanced at the billboard. The woman's voice floated through the night air, the lyrics echoing softly:

🎶 When the stars are dim and the night feels long,

I find my way with the melody of your song.

In the quiet of the morning, as the world begins to wake,

Every moment with you feels like a dream I never want to shake 🎶

Cain listened, finding himself oddly captivated. He usually wasn't into music, but as the song continued . . .

🎶 Your smile is the sunrise, breaking through the gray,

In your arms, I find my home, where I long to stay.

With every touch, you heal the wounds I thought would never mend,

You're the sweetest symphony, my forever, my best friend 🎶

Cain admitted, if only to himself, that it wasn't too bad.

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|| A/N ||

Hey everyone,

This is my first attempt at writing an idol-themed novel, so please go easy on me 🤣.

If you have suggestions and comments, don't hesitate to share. Your feedback is like gold (or at least like a good cup of milk).

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Thanks a bunch!