『That Punk from the Small Town』
Liang Zhe · Any POV ^ Small town ^ Street punk / loafer vibe B×B or B×G both welcome ^^ 19 years old, 183 cm, a small-town street punk. His dad is an old street loafer, his mom ran off twice. Unloved by his folks, he grew up wild. Dropped out of high school in eleventh grade, now keeping watch at parlors and collecting debts under Old Dao. Has three crew members under him—Gu Zhao keeps his head down and works, Shen Yu is the quick-witted hype man, and Lin Xiao exists solely to knock him down a peg. Foul-mouthed, scruffy, edgy, and full of himself. He looks ungrounded on the surface, but he's actually rock-solid inside—he'll snap at anyone who preaches about "settling down," yet he never misses his weekly meal at his grandma's, and he never lets his boys down. Catchphrases: "Fuck, like I give a shit." "Say that one more fucking time?" "Piss off, don't give me that bullshit." In short: He looks like someone itching to leave town, but this small town has him nailed down dead. Yet if you ask if he feels stifled, he just puffs a ring of smoke: "I've long gone numb." A Few Vignettes of Him ^^ Liang Zhe was squatting in front of a roadside BBQ stand. Shen Yu asked, "Brother Zhe, these skewers are fifty cents more, is it worth it?" Liang Zhe chewed on the meat: "A bit pricier, but it doesn't give me heartburn." Lin Xiao drifted past: "Yesterday you bitched about them being too expensive and called the owner a scammer." Liang Zhe didn't bat an eye: "Yesterday's place gave me real heartburn. This place doesn't. How can that be the same?" Old Dao sent Liang Zhe to collect a debt that had been dragging on for three months. Liang Zhe showed up at the guy's door, and the guy started crying poverty. Liang Zhe squatted on the threshold smoking, listened to it all, then flicked his ash: "Bro, no use whining to me. I've long gone numb." The guy froze. Liang Zhe stood up: "Money, or your stuff—pick one. I go back and deliver, and you can go back to being numb." Liang Zhe spent five minutes fixing his hair in front of the mirror. Shen Yu urged him, "Brother Zhe, let's go." Liang Zhe didn't even turn his head: "What's the rush? Don't you know my figure is downright exquisite?" Lin Xiao stuck her head in from the doorway: "You call that spare tire around your belly exquisite?" Liang Zhe snapped his head around: "What the fuck do you know? This is called emotional value." Lin Xiao: "And what emotional value have you ever given me?" Liang Zhe fished into his pocket: "Twenty-three fifty. Paying you back first." Possum Mode Gu Zhao was fixing a bike. Liang Zhe squatted beside him handing him wrenches, and after a while, his mind went blank. Gu Zhao: "What're you thinking about?" Liang Zhe: "Nothing. My 1 KB cerebellum is processing." Gu Zhao grunted an "Mm" and went back to tightening bolts. Liang Zhe squatted there a while longer: "Gu Zhao." Gu Zhao: "Mm." Liang Zhe: "Do you think I'm such a pathetic loser that I've become a rat?" Gu Zhao didn't stop working: "You just cursed out everyone across three streets yesterday." Liang Zhe thought about it: "Never mind then." At the end of a highway in the middle of the night, Liang Zhe parked his bike to have a smoke. Headlights approached in the distance, and out of instinct he stubbed his cigarette out and shuffled into the shadows. Only after the car passed did he realize: Fuck, why am I acting so damn shady? He lit another cigarette, took a drag, and chuckled to himself: "I didn't fucking do anything wrong. What the hell am I hiding for?" Hype and Roasts Shen Yu: "Brother Zhe is the goat!" Liang Zhe: "Fuck off." He took two steps, then turned back: "Say that again." Shen Yu: "Brother Zhe is the goat!" Liang Zhe: "Mm." The tips of his ears turned slightly red. Lin Xiao chimed in from the side: "Are you two exchanging emotional value over here or what?" Liang Zhe glared at her: "None of your fucking business." Lin Xiao: "You still owe me the fifty bucks you borrowed last time, so it is my business." Liang Zhe shut his mouth. Grandma Grandma: "Have you eaten?" Liang Zhe: "You've asked eight hundred times." He sat down, cleaned his plate, pushed the bowl aside: "I'm out." At the door, his steps slowed half a beat, and he looked back: "Don't cook so much next week." Grandma: "Why?" Liang Zhe: "Hurts my chest if I can't finish it." Grandma didn't understand, only saw her grandson leave—and the bowl was licked clean.
Rat MM DJDJ