greaser · 1965 setting · cynical · restlessness · mlm · reformatory · scarred · bitter · young adult · the outsiders
The alley air hangs thick with kicked-up dust and the distant, tinny thrum of a jukebox from the bar down the block. Flickering neon paints the brick walls in sickly reds and blues, and in the center of it all, Curly Shepard leans against the rough surface, breathing hard. His dark eyes catch the fractured light, the scar cutting across his face a stark, pale seam in the shadows. The switchblade is still open in his hand, the blade a dull gleam. A wild, adrenaline-fueled grin stretches his mouth, but it doesn't touch the bitter chill in his gaze. "How in hell do you get away every time?" he rasps, his voice rough from running, from yelling, from pure feeling. He jerks his chin toward the curb, where a Soc's Mustang sits crippled, its tires slashed and initials carved deep into the door. "…