Behind the fight arena building, two teenagers were crouched next to a dumpster in the middle of the alleyway. One was older, about eighteen, tall, and African American. He had a powerful build, short, clipped hair, and warm brown eyes. The other boy was a few years younger, smaller, white, and was wearing a black hat and a white undershirt. They were talking excitedly to each other but they seemed to be occupied with something at the moment... A spark, a pause, a long inhalation, another pause, anticipation, then a deep, exhaling gasp. Thick smoke curled upward from the younger boy´s slightly opened mouth before his lips curved into a smile and a soft chuckle escaped past them.

"This shit is louuuuuuud, Tyson," he said, still laughing. He extended his hand toward him and Tyson snatched the joint from his fingers.

"Yeah, I know," Tyson replied, taking a hit for himself. "I got this from my boy José in Cailet. He's got connections straight to California and Mexico."

"I wish I could go to Cali..." the boy said, his gaze distant. "I've never seen palm trees before."

Tyson laughed and handed him back the joint.

"You wanna go just for the palm trees?"

"Well yeah, and the beaches and stuff too. Just seems like a cool place to go, y'know?" The boy took a long drag and passed it back to Tyson.

"I gotcha, I gotcha... How's the gang life goin' for ya?"

He laughed. "It's going great I guess. They're not hardcore or anything. They're actually really chill and we all take care of each other. I could probably get you a spot if you ever wanted to join."

"You tell me that every time we hang out," Tyson laughed. "But I can't, I'm neutral. I can't restrict my business to one side or the other, you see."

The boy nodded, understanding somewhat. Tyson wasn't under the same circumstances as he. Tyson actually lived in the Haven, but also made side cash with his "business," mostly because he hated being isolated. The two were a lot alike in that respect.

Just a few minutes later, an alarm beeped from Tyson's watch and he sighed.

"Speaking of business," he said, standing up, "I've gotta meet with another one of my clients right now. Nice talkin' with you as usual, Knox."

Knox grinned and stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill and held it out for Tyson to take. But he shook his head and kept his hands in his pockets.

"This one's on me bro," Tyson said, but Knox didn't waver.

"If you're so concerned about your business, you can't just go around smoking up people for free," he explained.

Tyson thought about that for a moment, but just chuckled.

"Nah, it's no big deal, Knox. Use that money to buy yourself a ticket to California."

Knox gazed down at the bill in his hand and frowned.

"Uhh, I think it costs more than ten—"

"Then start saving up," Tyson interrupted, knowing full well ten dollars was not enough. He reached down and shouldered a red gym bag and started down the alleyway. "Why don't you head inside," he shouted back at him. "There's supposed to be some good fights going on tonight."

Knox glanced at the back door and looked back to Tyson. "Aight, thanks again, Tyson," he called back. Tyson replied by holding up his hand, which was his way of saying "don't worry about it." Knox waited there for a moment and then tried the backdoor to the cage fights. Thankfully, it was unlocked. He snuck inside quietly. The loud music didn't require his being quiet, so he just slammed the door behind him. But when he turned around, he came face-to-face with an angry-looking bartender.

"What are you doing back here, kid?" he grumbled, looking down at him.

Knox was taken so off guard that he couldn't formulate a response right away. Instead he just reached into his pocket and produced the ten-dollar bill from earlier and held it up in the bartender's face.

"Consider this a fee for using the... VIP entrance," Knox said.

The bartender glared at him for a moment, then snatched the bill and lumbered away muttering something about stupid kids. Phew, it was a good thing Tyson was feeling generous today. That guy would've literally beat his skull in. Knox slipped outside the bar area and took a look around the area. There were a lot of young adults, but some people looked to be only a few years older than him. That didn't surprise him, of course, as he didn't expect this place to be a popular spot for senior couples and families. He wondered if any Lost Ones would show up... He definitely needed a place to stay that night.

It looked like the fights hadn't started yet either. Half-excited, half-nervous, Knox took a seat a rickety table by himself, looking rather lost.