The city felt tense that day.Like something was about to snap.
Graffiti tags were painted over.Motorbike engines roared louder than usual.People in the know whispered in corners, checking watches and glancing at alleyways.
There was a fight coming.And everyone knew who the players were.
Black Fangs.Vulture Syndicate.Rayzen vs. Kael.
Old grudges. New wounds.Too much pride to walk away.
Alea stood by the campus café window, sipping her tea, watching the world buzz with fear and excitement.She heard the rumors.
Rayzen was gathering his crew.Kael had already marked the zone.The fight was tonight.
She took another sip. Unbothered.
Let them fight.Let them break each other's faces if they wanted.None of it mattered to her.
She hated violence.She hated boys who thought fists were answers.She hated how the world romanticized chaos just because the people in it looked good in black.
She glanced outside again.Rayzen was there, talking loud, laughing like he had fire in his blood.Kael was across the street, silent as ever, already sizing him up.
They both looked at her.
She looked away.
She wasn't a prize.She wasn't a reason to fight.And she refused to be dragged into a war she wanted no part of.
Let them burn.She'd stay where it was quiet.
But even as she turned away—A flicker of unease crept into her chest.
Because when fire and ice collide,Even the innocent can get scorched.