Disclaimer: I in no way own Beyblade. But I do own the plot idea of this fic!

Synopsis: This is another of my Alternate reality fan fiction works. This time, it is set in modern times. In the city of LA. The boys and the gals are two rival gangs fighting for supremacy over who will outdo whom, and the other gangs and escape the clutches of the law. But when things get dirty in the hood, and life becomes a little too much like a frying pan on high heat, the two groups decide to take a leap of faith and go legit. What will it take for them to prove themselves to the guys in blue and separate themselves from the gang life of the suburbs? And to top it all off there is a wildcard in the games called 'lust'!

Genre: Action/Adventure/Suspense/Thriller/Romance

Rating: (PG-13 / R) Due to foul language, violence, and mature situations.

Chapter #1: On the Streets of L.A.

Friday night, a time when many residents of Los Angeles come home to their families after a long and tiring week of work. But beneath the placid surface of this routine city life lays a hidden world. One where the fittest survive, one where having the faster car, the better gun, and the sharper wit does matter, a world where the only law is that one doesn’t kill without escaping the hate of someone else. A world in which gangs rule, and one does no expect to survive without the help of a few good pals. It is in this world that this story takes place.

It was your typical Friday night in Los Angeles, the slums. Or Gang-Central as some called it. The local clubs were full of people dancing. Streets were devoid of all traffic, except the occasional street race. Even police cruisers didn’t dare come into the neighborhood without a reason, or backup. In a neighborhood where everyone had a gun, rifle, or shotgun for personal safety, cops were not appreciated, or welcomed.

Elsewhere, in a more quiet part of the neighborhood, stood a shoebox shaped building. It looked abandoned from the outside, but that was not the case. Inside, in a large space that looked like a living room because it had three couches, one armchair and a coffee table were two teenaged boys. They were about nineteen years of age.

“That was too easy,” one spoke, counting a hefty wad of cash in his hands, “Those idiots didn’t even know we stole their cash,” He added, “That job went smooth, and it’s Friday night, I’m up to spend some of this, you know.” He was tall, with dark blue hair. L.A. Lakers cap on his head, on backwards, a tank top with an L.A. Lakers jersey over it and blue jeans, matching Nikes on his feet. He pulled out his black leather wallet and hastily stuffed in a few twenties into it. Wadding the rest of his share up he shoved it into his pocket.

“Tell me about it, how about we go to a club or something?” the second boy volunteered. He was shorter, blond with crystal clear blue eyes. He wore black Nikes with matching jeans, an Exco football jersey that went from black at the bottom to orange at the shoulders.

“Yo Max, turn on the TV,” another boy bounded into the room, “I heard on the radio about our heist last night, I want to see what those fools are showing about it, if anything.” This boy was tall, with ink black hair tied back into a ponytail that reached beyond his butt. His shaggy bangs also framed a pair of cat-like, golden eyes. He wore white Jordans with blue detailing, jeans that were white at the bottom, but became deep blue at the top. A white muscle shirt, and a white Exco windbreaker jacket on top of that, unzipped. If one looked closely enough, they could see the buckle of a vest type gun holster under the jacket.

Max grabbed the remote and turned on their television, it wasn’t a plasma screen but a regular TV with pirated satellite. He turned on the local news and turned up the volume. On the screen a woman was talking about gang violence, but nothing too specific.

“Well that was a dud,” Tyson commented.

“Hey who’s complaining, if they don’t give us enough coverage, how do they expect to catch us?” Rei asked.

“I say we go out and celebrate tonight, down at the local club, Max I think you reserved us VIP pass right?” Tyson glanced at his blond friend who nodded.

“Did you forget, it’s race night, most people with decent cash will be at the track watching street racing,” Rei supplied.

“Hey wasn’t Kai in one of the races there?” Max suddenly piped up.

“Speaking of him, where is he?” Tyson wondered. The two shrugged in a single motion. Tyson got up and shoved his wallet back into his pocket; he’ll have to go to the bank tomorrow to put his ‘salary’ somewhere safe.

He stepped into the garage; it was huge, designed for more than six vehicles.

“Kai! Man there you are! It’s seven, the race is at eight, you better get into high gear,” Tyson called. Kai looked up at him and glared.

“I am perfectly aware when the race is on! I don’t need to do trial laps you idiot, I’m the champ for the past six months straight!” he called. Kai was the tallest of the six of them. With bi-colored blue hair. He wore black timberland shoes with matching black Mecca jeans, front of the legs tucked neatly under the loosely tied timb tongues. In his belt loops he had a chain belt with a skull buckle on it. A dark blue muscle shirt tucked down and a loose Hawaiian style unbuttoned shirt on top of that, it was dark blue as well, with barbwire design on the bottom and sleeve hems.

Currently he was shining a spotless Ford GT colored in midnight blue with silver stripes. The engine was on, and the blue neon lights at the bottom rims of the car’s undercarriage were glowing. It also had a spoiler that looked like it belonged on a plane and not a car. The driver side door was open and fast-beat music was blaring from the inside of the car, not loudly, but loud enough to resonate thought the garage.

“Whatever man, I’m going to the club, oh by the way… bring back the beer six pack you win untouched, I need it the poker rounds tomorrow,” Tyson stressed the word ‘untouched’ as he approached his own car. A tricked out 1996 Ferrari 550 Maranello with a rear spoiler. The car was bright white in color, and had long dragon murals on either side that stretched all the way from above the front wheels to the back. It also had a full black leather mask on the nose, custom made.

Kai watched him go as his car roared to life; it’s headlights turning on to insane brightness. After he drove out Kai shook his head and resumed polishing his own car. After finally being satisfied in it, he reached inside and shut off the music, throwing the polish rag behind his seat at into the polish kit that lay there in the mini trunk he sat down and buckled in. Shutting the door with a rev of the car’s engine he was off.  The nitro thrusters at the back gave off a burst of fire as Kai gave them a test firing.

He accelerated, deciding to warm up the engine along the way. The track, or ‘the circle’ as it was called in the neighborhood was an abandoned neighborhood street that was a loop with treacherous twists and turns, and had only one exit, making it ideal for street racing.

The local residents have long been driven out by the rising popularity of the ‘sport’. And the rising crime levels it brought. Illegal gambling was just the tip of the iceberg going on at the track. Illegal prostitution was also a favorite past time for drunken happy gamblers. But the track was also where the best races happened, and if you were as esteemed like as he was, you had premium starting position in all races, no test laps required.

A group that got the money from the betting on the races ran the races, and they involved prizes. Winning a race meant a ‘clean’ 1000$ and a complimentary six-pack of Guinness beer. Even the last place got something so they were a good way to make money. And they attracted many people, from rookies to serious car lovers, out to show off their tricked out cars, SUVs, vans, and hot rods. Of course one did not race hot rods with SUVs, the races had divisions. And his was Sport-Car division, where only names like Ford, Ferrari, and Porsche dominated.

Arriving early he took up a spot at the ‘participant parking’ zone. A lot designated to for participants only. Around him were many rookies working on their hot rods and there was an occasional woman with a tricked out car, but they usually didn’t go far. Street racing on normal asphalt roads put on a lot of pressure on engines, and one needed to be an excellent mechanic to maintain a street race engine properly.

A dark-skinned man approached his driver-side window and motioned him to roll it down, which Kai did.

“Hey man, sup? Ready for the race?” he asked.

“Yea,” Kai replied, this one was one of the ‘workers’ on the track

“Listen up Ghost, you missed the trial runs. Now I know you are above all those being the champ. But you missed some spitfire rookie showing up here driving a Toyota, would you believe it? One of those nimble Toyotas! Celica I believe. Anyways… I don’t know who it is, or whether it’s a guy or another one of them lucky hoes, but I tell you. The way he was cornering, you’d think he was nuts! I tell ya watch out for him, I got money riding on ya, don’t you dare lose,” the man spoke.

“I wont lose, you know me,” Kai replied. It was the usual pep talk; he had many fans, but no one stronger than this one, who needed to win bet money to help support his kids.

“Whatever man, just in case I have a sweet bet riding on the SUV class, and if I’m lucky, I’ll take both. Anyways, keep sharp!” with that he walked off. Kai rolled up the window and looked around the lot, trying to spot any Toyota Celica around, he seen one of them before, nimble little trash cans with an attitude, if tricked out correctly they could be some serious competition.

“Listen up fellas, the Sport Class is about to begin, all those participating in the eight o’clock race get your tail pipes on the track,” a voice spoke over a megaphone. Kai moved, he hated the anxious wait before the race, having periodically missed the trial runs, he never knew whom he would be competing against, but he believed that added a bit more challenged to the race.

At the track, hundreds of people gathered to watch, mainly people from the suburbs in for some illegal entertainment and gambling. Spotting the other eight racers he took his customary position, F-Center, in a formation of nine cars, three by three, F-Center meant Front-Center. That’s when he saw the Celica, standing to his right.

It was a sight to see, bright red paint job, silver stripes on the nose, roof, and back, like some Dodge viper, large rear spoiler, orange neon lights on the cars bottom rim, red ones in it’s wheel spokes, and what appeared to be a sign mounted on the back. The type that was on busses, displaying their number and a scrolling text of their destination, this one was black with red lighting elements, it flashed ‘Red-Fox’ over and over. The sign looked like it was mounted on a removable frame, probably a race-only accessory. People tended to have that.

“This is the final race of the night for our sport cars people. I hope you have your tickets ready. Anyways… please put a welcoming hand to our reigning sport car race champ… Ghost!” the crowd seemed to explode into cheers. “I would also like to wish good luck to the rookie standing F-Right, Red-Fox… you’re going to need it buddy!” there was laughter coming from the crowd at that. There was no response from the red car however; it was unusual for drivers to take insults like that lightly in this part of the city.

The rules of the race were simple; the race involved twenty laps, no bumping or contact at all; and if racers had Nitro thrusters, they were limited to five bursts. But always there was some smart aleck broke them, there was always that one fool who got disqualified for the dumbest thing.

The hotwired stop light at the start line turned on, it was steady red. But as it went yellow, engines began to rev. Everyone was anxious because the first acceleration often decided your chances of winning, if you were dead last from the start, chances were you wouldn’t finish first.

The second the light changed green the cars were off with screeching wheels and dust clouds. Kai had no trouble getting in the lead with his car’s impressive acceleration of stand still to hundred miles per hour in less than three seconds. But what surprised him was the rev of another engine at his right, a sound that usually wasn’t heard when he was doing laps because hardly anyone could keep up with his GT. Glancing from the corner of his eye he was surprised to see Red-Fox was keeping up with him seemingly effortlessly, although he was not in the lead, he was still keeping up.

“The racers are off! Ghost once again takes an impressive lead! But what is a shocker fellas is that Red-Fox is keeping up!” the announcer called. Kai floored the accelerator and pulled in front more, deciding not to over-exert his engine so early in the race he allowed Red-Fox to tag along behind him, if push came to shove, he still had his nitros.

Elsewhere in the shadows, stood a woman, clad in extremely baggy blue jeans, steel-toed boots, fingerless gloves, white thin-strapped tank top, over-sized black leather jacket, and a chain belt. Her hair was ink black and in front of her eyes she had a pair of binoculars. By her side stood a Yamaha FZ-6 sport bike colored in dark blue and black.

“Common Charly, don’t let that spook outdo my little handy work,” she spoke particularly to no one.

On the track, the Toyota and Ford were still neck-to-neck, fighting for supremacy. Going into the tenth lap the cornering was insane now at speeds of over hundred miles per hour. Occasionally the Toyota, nimble as it was, took the lead because somehow they switched sides, so now it was on the Ford’s left side. And it was doing tight corners like a dream.

“I don’t believe this! Red-Fox has marginal lead,” the announcer called, “And we’re in lap twelve of twenty. I think this rookie is about to burn out!”

“In your dreams,” the woman spoke as she followed the Toyota with her eyes.

Kai was growling by now, but he was still holding back marginally, let the rookie get over confident, at lap fifteen he was again leading by a nose. And it was going to get bigger, he could already see that the Toyota was losing grip, nimble as it was, doing such tight turns was difficult, even for him. But the driver was insane to go so close to the inside of the track where the turns were tightest, although the rewards could be greatest.

Lap eighteen, still in the lead Kai noticed the Toyota was losing speed and falling back, like a sprinter out of breath it was slow at first, but then as the lap progressed, he could only see the Toyota in his rear view window, the gap was wide and long.

“Red-Fox is running out of steam! Ghost will win again! What a machine, what endurance!” the announcer kept egging on.

At the end of lap nineteen there was at least a 40-foot rift between the two cars and it looked like victory was in the bag. But at the beginning to the final lap, Red-Fox was beginning to gain ground again and the rift began to close.

“Yea… that’s it Charly, get him to think he won, this way… he wont fire the nitros like he usually does to win,” the woman mumbled, continuing to watch the race perplexed.

The finish line was three hundred meters ahead, the final stretch. One hundred fifty… “And the winner is…” the announcer began, ready to declare Kai the winner. That’s when Kai heard a loud boom. Looking in his rear view mirror he saw Red-Fox gaining fast, a plume of fire on his tail, it was evident the driver fired his nitros. The car was gaining fast, and before Kai could fire his own, the nimble Toyota overshot him. He reached for the nitros and fired them, kicking his car into 150 miles per hour turbo drive. But it was too late, the nimble Toyota crossed the finish line less than a second before him. In the lead by two feet of it’s red nose.

“Unbelievable! The winner is Red-Fox!” The announcer screamed into the mike. The Toyota slowed down with screeching, smoking wheels and so did the GT. Cheers exploded from the spectators, “I don’t believe it! Ghost! Beaten on the last stretch by two feet by a Toyota!” the news washed over Kai like a bucket of cold water. But to add an insult to injury, the rear sign of the Toyota scrolled ‘The Ghostbusters are here!’

The woman smiled, “There you have it folks… don’t underestimate Toyota’s and crazy drivers like Charly, my job here… is done,” with that said she mounted her bike and revved it’s engine, leaving. Letting her friend collect the prize in peace.

Author Notes: So this is just the first chapter of fic. I hope you liked the settings there. I personally like it as this is pretty much easy to write about. I got a few things to say…

First: If you guys don’t mind a very-rare occasional Non-Yaoi semi-lime, tell me. Because this fic will kind of miss that bit there.

Second: I will only publish further chapters of this after I finish with CTS. So this is just a sneak preview. And if you need pictures of the cars the gang drives, just email me. I’ll be happy to send pics.

Third: I want reviews people. Suggestions and ideas are also welcome here.