The block buzzed differently now. The web Spider had spun for so long was fraying, threads snapping one by one. The cafeteria riot, the laundry ambush—both should have buried Jayden. Instead, they left Spider exposed, his grip slipping in plain sight.
But Spider wasn't gone. His smirk was thinner, yes, but his shadow was still long. The guards still leaned his way. And as long as Dre was missing, Jayden still felt half a man—fire burning, but without a steady wall to hold against.
Until the day Dre came back.
---
The Return
It happened in lineup. The guards shoved Dre into place like he was just another number, another body in orange. But to the block, it was more than that. Heads turned. Whispers rippled.
Dre stood tall, lip split, eyes hollow from isolation, but his shoulders unbroken. He caught Jayden's gaze across the row, gave the faintest nod, and that was enough.
Spider's grin faltered. Just for a heartbeat, but Jayden saw it.
---
The Cafeteria Shift
At lunch, Dre took his old seat like he'd never left. Jayden slid onto the bench across from him. The block watched, waiting for Spider to move, waiting for something to snap.
But Spider stayed in his corner, whispering low with Rico, not strutting this time.
"You held it," Dre muttered, tearing stale bread with thick fingers.
"Barely," Jayden admitted.
"Barely's enough," Dre said. His eyes were hard but proud. "Spider threw everything at you, and you're still here. That ain't luck. That's control."
Jayden swallowed hard. For weeks, he'd been drowning in silence, fighting to be his own anchor. But now, with Dre back, the weight felt different. Lighter. Stronger.
---
Spider's Cracks
By evening, the whispers were louder:
"Spider lost the laundry."
"Spider couldn't break Carter."
"Dre's back."
Jayden caught kids watching him again, not with fear, not with suspicion, but with something closer to belief. It wasn't all of them—not yet. But some. Enough to matter.
Spider noticed. His grin was gone when the lights cut out that night. He paced like a caged animal, strings slipping from his grip.
---
The Plan
That night, Dre's voice came through the wall again, rough but steady. "You feel it, Scrap? The tide's turning. But don't get sloppy. Spider's desperate. That makes him wild."
Jayden tapped once in answer, then whispered, "Then we finish it."
There was silence on the other side, then Dre's chuckle, low and sharp. "Careful, Scrap. Finishing it means more than just beating Spider. It means showing the block what strength really is. Not fire that burns out. Fire that lasts."
Jayden lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the words searing into him. He thought about all the times he'd almost lost it, almost given Spider the ending he wanted. And he thought about how every time he'd chosen control, something shifted.
Maybe Dre was right. Maybe survival wasn't enough anymore. Maybe it was time to change the script.
The Sketch
He opened his book, pencil moving fast. He drew a spider with threads snapped, legs broken, caught in its own web. Above it, he drew a torch—not raging, not wild, but steady, casting light over the block.
Underneath, he wrote: Fire doesn't just burn. Fire leads
For the first time, Jayden wasn't just thinking about surviving Spider.
He was thinking about replacing him.