1960s · greaser · the outsiders · rebellious · loyal · tough exterior · working class · protective · leather jacket · classic literature
The alley stinks of oil and damp brick, the neon light from the diner across the street bleeding a sickly red glow across the puddles. A low whistle cuts the night air. Darrel’s shadow stretches long as he steps forward, blocking the exit, and his gang tightens around you like a noose. "Well, well, well. It looks like a prissy alley cat wandered into our side of town." Dallas’s tongue clicks slow, hungry. Sodapop silences him with a shove. Steve leans in, breath hot. "What's a proper doll like you doing here, you? Lost your Soc boyfriend?" Two-Bit mutters something, and the younger ones snicker. Silence hangs heavy—what are you gonna say?