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It used to be that you were born into this life. That if your father was a Soh Dragon you were a Soh Dragon. Being that I was a Soh you'd think that I had the honor of being the Soh Dragon by birthright, but things didn't work out that way.
Ever since my father got pinched our policy changed. You had to earn your way in, male or female, taking a ruthless beating by a set of Dragons. After my trial run with Steven and Jin, Alec said I was ready to make the official jump in.
I accompanied Bridger Kym to my high school's football game. He was movin' after-school delights to kids looking to score before the proverbial run of weekend festivities. I didn't deal for the Dragons, no matter how much Alec suggested I did. Dealing seemed too small time. I was itching to run the show and do something bigger.
Bridger was just a year older than me but we'd been friends for our whole lives. His old man was my father's best friend and right hand. He knew what it was like to deal with the pressures of measuring up. It didn't eat at him too much, he mostly just dealt product for us and collected bills. He also had a seven-inch scar on the length of his jaw from the time he'd been jumped into the Soh Dragons. Most guys in the unit wore their scars as badges of honor, Bridge, he wore it either apathetically one day or with shame the next. He never voiced any complaints, nor was he stupid enough to think that he could do anything else but be a Dragon.
Bridger nudged me as he came back to our seats in the stands. "Don't over think. Get in and fight for your life, or else you won't make it. They won't go easy on you, especially because of who you are."
I nodded as I watched some kid in a gray and yellow padded uniform attempt to rush across the field cradling the egg shaped ball in his arm. "I can handle it. Six pennies, right?"
The objective was clear. Alec would throw six pennies to the ground and my goal was to collect them as best as I could in order to end the beating.
Growing up under Alec, he taught me how to fight, cruel and dirty. Fighting off six guys while I collected six pennies couldn't be so bad. Even though I knew it would be brutal. Beyond Bridger, Steven and Jin, I had a lot to prove to the others. To them I was just a "pretty boy" and not Soh Dragon material. Phone calls from my father spoke otherwise, he wasn't as doubtful but he would stress the importance of the Dragons and how I couldn't fuck-up or disgrace the family name. With my mother back in Korea, all I had were Alec and the Dragons. I couldn't mess up, even if I wanted to.
Bridger held up six fingers. "Six pennies. Six guys. Six minutes. You can do it."
I had barely succeeded with two guys, but I was determined to prove my blood and worth.
Bridger whistled as the cheerleaders shimmied at the sidelines. They were mostly Mexican with a white girl or two.
In our town we had power over the Mexicans, especially the ones linked to our rival set, Los Soldados aka "the Soldiers." Guys like Jin and Steven, and sometimes Bridger too, would get a kick out of messing with the Mexicans, especially since they knew they would win in the end.
