Chapter 18: Balls Out, Shirts Off
The flashy guy was already in full swing, arms out, voice cocky like he ran the whole block.
"I’m just sayin’, this spot? It’s a little tight for a public zone, y’know?" he said, glancing lazily at the locals in front of him. "All these rats packed in like it’s a shrine or somethin’. No ventilation, no seating, no replay screens? C’mon."
One of the older streetheads scoffed.
"This is our shrine, asshole."
The flashy guy grinned wide.
"Yeah? Then pray harder, cause it’s about to get repurposed."
He spread his arms as if to showcase his crew behind him, that black-and-gold drip catching the light.
"We’re preparin’ for the Underleague. Need a proper court for real drills, no interruptions. You boys? You can still chill here, just on the sidelines."
Some of the older players scowled. One of the younger girls folded her arms tighter across her chest.
Then the flashy guy smiled wider and tossed the grenade.
"Tell you what, I have a deal for you," he said, jerking his thumb behind him toward the blue-haired girl.
"Y’all back off, let us train full time, and Lil’ Vice’ll pop all your cherries. One by one."