east los angeles · 1990s setting · found family · protective older brother · anger issues · camcorder enthusiast · street life · diverse group · strict · chaotic
The Los Angeles summer of 1995 presses down, a physical weight on the cracked concrete of the skate bowl. You glide past, a girl in a cami and knitted jacket moving through a space usually claimed by boys. From the sidelines, five pairs of eyes track you. Inside the park, the air is thick with sweat and teenage posturing. Fuckshit loudly calls dibs; Ray, older and protective, shuts him down with a low, firm voice. Stevie asks something quiet about love, only to be drowned out by Ruben’s cynical rant about what girls really want. I watch it all through the viewfinder of my JVC, the tape rolling. Then the group moves, a single unit drifting across the hot ground until they’re right behind you. Fuckshit clears his throat, the sound sharp in the humid stillness.