The room falls silent. The siblings sit around the table, the warm scent of food filling the air. Everyone exchanges wary glances.
All Siblings (at once): Who you guys are!?
Elana lets out a faint chuckle, her expression calm yet unreadable. She lifts her fork, piercing a piece of food before answering.
Elana (nodding slowly, with a small smile): Yes… She takes a quiet bite, then looks at everyone still frozen in their seats.
Elana (firmly, but warmly): Eat before the food gets cold.
The siblings hesitate, exchanging glances, then slowly start eating. The clinking of silverware is the only sound. Elana stares down at her plate, lost in thought. After a few seconds, she exhales deeply.
Elana (softly, eyes distant): So… about forty years ago… I was involved or rather, part of… a group that once ruled the streets.
Everyone stops chewing. The air grows tense. Dean's eyes narrow slightly as he sets down his fork.
Dean (carefully): Ruled the streets? You mean… like a gang?
Elana's expression hardens for a moment before softening again.
Elana (smirking faintly): You could say that. We called ourselves The Apex.
A long pause follows. The name lingers in the air like a ghost. Dean, Bryan, and Stacy glance at one another, their faces showing nothing but confusion.
Elana (calmly): Those who know the streets well enough never forget that name.
Her gaze drifts, memories flickering behind her eyes.
Elana (quietly): We didn't kill… but we fought, we stole, we survived. The city was ours. Until everything changed.
Dean leans forward, his tone cautious but curious.
Dean: What happened?
Elana's eyes darken. She forces a small, bittersweet smile.
Elana (whispering): Let's just say… even the strongest fall when trust breaks.
The room falls quiet again. The ticking of a nearby clock echoes louder than ever. The siblings glance at each other in confusion, curiosity, and unease mixing in their eyes.
Stacy (softly): You mean… someone betrayed you?
Elana doesn't answer. She simply stares out the window, her reflection cold against the glass.
Elana (softly): Eat. You'll need your strength… before you learn what came after The Apex.
The siblings exchange uneasy looks, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.
Flashback — 40 Years Ago
[High School Graduation Day]
The crowd roared with excitement as graduates tossed their caps into the air. Three close friends stood together at the edge of the field; Christopher Williams, Zack Smith, and Elana Brown, smiling proudly beneath the bright sky.
Zack (grinning): Finally… we did it.
Christopher (smirking): Yeah. Guess the school's finally free of us.
Elana (laughing): More like we're free from it. They should be thanking us for keeping things interesting all these years.
The three laughed. They'd known each other since primary school, notorious (Known) for the chaos they caused, fights, pranks and arguments with teachers. But underneath it all, there was something deeper.
They shared the same pain.
They all lost their parents young.
That pain was what had forged their bond, one no one could easily break.
Time passed. After graduation, life began to pull them in different directions. Each of them took on small jobs, drifting apart.
Weeks turned into months. The excitement faded. Then one afternoon, Elana's phone rang.
Elana (on phone): Chris?
Christopher (on the phone, sounding tired but eager): Yeah. You, me, and Zack let's meet at the park today. It's our day off, right?
Elana: What's this about?
Christopher: Just… come. You'll see.
Later that day, the three sat under their old hangout spot, a cracked concrete bench beneath the big oak tree.
Christopher (leaning back, sighing): I quit my job.
Zack (blinking): You what?
Elana (raising an eyebrow): You serious, Chris?
Christopher (nodding, a grin forming): Dead serious. It's boring, Elana. Waking up early, working all day for scraps… that's not living. I miss the old days… when we did what we wanted, when people feared our names in school.
Zack (chuckling softly): You mean when teachers hated us?
Christopher: Nah. I mean when we actually felt alive.
Elana looked at him, half amused, half concerned.
Elana: You really think acting out is gonna fix your life?
Christopher (shrugging): Maybe not. But it's better than wasting away in a job that kills your spirit.
He leaned forward, voice low and intense.
Christopher: Let's move in together. You, me, Zack. One roof. One life. We look out for each other, like we always did.
Zack and Elana exchanged uneasy glances.
Elana: Move in? Chris, that's… sudden.
Zack: Yeah, and I'm not quitting my job. I need the money.
Christopher (grinning): You'll see. The world out there's full of chances, you just gotta take them.
Elana sighed, shaking her head.
Elana: You never change.
Christopher (smiling faintly): That's what makes me Chris.
Weeks later, they did move in together in a small, crumbling apartment in the heart of the city. At first, things were fine. But as time passed, Christopher started slipping back into old habits. He began roaming the streets late at night, coming home with cash he couldn't explain.
Then, one day, he admitted it.
Christopher (casually): I've been robbing people. Just small stuff. Easy money.
Zack (shocked): You what? Chris, are you insane?
Elana: You're gonna get yourself killed!
Christopher (shrugging): Relax. I know what I'm doing. Besides, we need it, right?
Zack got fired from his job months later, and suddenly they depended solely on Elana's income. But it wasn't enough. Bills piled up, rent got harder, and food grew scarce.
Elana (exhausted): I can't keep doing this alone, Chris.
Christopher (coldly): Then stop complaining. I'm handling it my way.
The room went silent. The spark that once bonded them was starting to flicker into something darker, something that would soon give birth to The Apex.
One Year Later
The apartment had grown quieter over the months. The laughter that once echoed through its walls was gone, replaced by the low hum of worry and the creak of old floorboards.
Elana sat at the table; eyes fixed on a small envelope, her final paycheck.
Elana (softly): That's it… the company's gone. Bankrupt.
Zack leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking defeated.
Zack: So now it's all gone. Everything.
Elana (nodding, voice tired): Everything.
Christopher, who'd been leaning on the windowsill, exhaled through his nose and turned to face them.
Christopher (calmly): Then it's time we stop pretending.
Elana (frowning): Pretending?
Christopher: That we're like everyone else. Working jobs that barely feed us. Living like ghosts.
He stepped closer, his tone confident almost persuasive.
Christopher: You both know my way works. I've been surviving just fine. We could all live better if you joined me.
Elana and Zack exchanged a look. Neither spoke.
Zack (hesitant): Chris… stealing isn't surviving. It's just running from life.
Christopher (grinning faintly): No, Zack. It's taking control of it.
Elana sighed deeply. The thought lingered in her mind for days, the fear, the shame… but also the thrill. Every night, the weight of unpaid bills pressed harder. Every morning, she woke up wondering if she'd made a mistake staying on the safe path.
Days turned into weeks. Then one evening, she looked at Christopher and Zack as they sat in silence, and she broke it.
Elana (quietly): Fine. I'm in.
Zack groaned softly, running a hand through his hair.
Zack: Damn it, Elana… if you're in, then I'm in too. But I'm not proud of it.
Christopher smiled, slow and satisfied.
Christopher (smirking): You will be.
And just like that, the three of them went back to their old ways. At first, it was small, picking fights in alleys, pranking shop owners, stirring chaos in the streets. But soon, it turned into something else.
They started stealing, wallets, phones, jewellery. Anything they could get their hands on. The thrill came back, and with it, a dangerous sense of freedom.
Elana (narrating): We told ourselves it was just to get by… but deep down, we liked it. We liked being seen again.
Weeks passed. The money came easy, and for the first time in a long while, they were living without worry or conscience. Then one night, as the three of them sat on the rooftop of their apartment, Christopher broke the silence.
Christopher (grinning): What if we stop thinking small?
Zack (frowning): What do you mean?
Christopher (leaning forward, eyes glinting): I'm talking about something big. Something that gets us out of this life for good.
Elana and Zack both stared at him, uncertain.
Elana: How big?
Christopher's smirk widened.
Christopher: Big enough to pull us out of poverty. Big enough to make us untouchable.
The wind picked up around them, the city lights glimmering below. For a long moment, no one spoke. They all knew what that meant and that there was no turning back after this. They sit closer now; heads bent over a torn city map and a cheap flashlight. The night smells like rain and oil, the city hums beyond their windows.
Christopher (calm, a tiny grin): Instead of robbing small stores to make money, why don't we aim for something big… like a bank.
A shocked gasp escapes Elana and Zack at the same time.
Zack (blunt, incredulous): A bank? We don't have the people for that kind of mission.
Elana (worried, shaking her head): He's right. We can't just… we don't have the crew, the skills…
Christopher (waving a hand, confident): Don't worry about that. I already have some candidates.
He lets the words hang. The flashlight flickers.
Christopher (low): We won't need too many. It's a small branch, quiet neighbourhood, little security. Five people will do.
Elana (sceptical): Can those candidates be trusted? We can't just bring strangers into our group.
Christopher's smile doesn't waver. He cuts her off before she can finish.
Christopher (insistent): Don't worry about that. They can be trusted.
Zack (demanding): Who are they?
Christopher names them like a final, deliberate move.
Christopher (matter-of-fact): David and Richard.
Zack's eyes go wide; disbelief and recognition flash across his face.
Zack (stunned): Don't tell me you're talking about that Richard.
Christopher (calm, nodding): Yes… that Richard. The one who fought with teachers in high school. Tough as nails.
Elana (uneasy): Isn't he… too much? He's volatile. He'll bring heat.
Christopher (shrugging, almost playful): No. He won't. And if he does, Zack and I will take care of him.
Zack forces a laugh that doesn't reach his eyes.
Zack (half-joking, half-uneasy): Right… you and me versus Richard. Charming.
Zack (serious): But who's David?
Christopher leans back, the grin softening into something colder calculating.
Christopher (careful): David's someone I met a while ago. Quiet. Observant. Good with hands. You don't notice him until he's finished his work.
Elana studies Christopher as if reading a map of his mind.
Elana (soft, probing): He sound reliable?
Christopher (steady): Reliable enough. Better than most. He's careful and keeps his mouth shut.
A pause. The idea tumbles between them, dangerous and intoxicating.
Zack (low, voice steadying): So, five people.
Elana (sighing, torn): This is madness, Chris. Banks… that's not petty stealing. That changes everything.
Christopher (quiet, almost pleading): Or it changes nothing if we get it right. One score, one clean run no more scraping by. We can be done with this life. We can leave.
For a long moment the only sound is the distant traffic and the soft creak of the apartment.
Zack (after a beat): Okay. When do we meet them.
Christopher's grin returns, small and dangerous.
Christopher (firm): Together. We set the date, we meet the others, and we prove we can aim higher.
They all look at one another, fear, hunger and a strange eagerness mixing in their faces. The seed of something bigger has been planted.
Elana (whispering, more to herself than them): If this is the start of something… I hope we know who we'll become.
Christopher meets her gaze, unblinking.
Christopher (soft, certain): Then we'll make sure we become what we choose not what the world makes of us.
They agree on a night to meet Richard and David. The plan is vague but alive. Outside, a siren wails far away, and the city keeps breathing unaware that a new force is assembling itself in a shabby apartment, ready to step out and take its first, decisive risk.
They all nodded. The air between them felt taut with a new purpose — dangerous, electric.
Two days later Christopher brought David and Richard to the shabby apartment. The introductions were quick, the handshakes rough, the laughter forced but easy enough to hide the tension. Over cheap beer and stale crisps the five of them fit into a rhythm, like pieces of a knife finally pressed together.
David (quiet, measuring): Heard about the job. You sure you want to do this?
Christopher (grinning, certain): We don't want… we need. And we're sure.
Richard (smirking, fists loose): I'm in. Just point me where to hit.
They needed a name, something sharp, something that would sit on tongues and make people look twice. The three who'd started it all batted around options until Christopher finally said the one that felt right.
Christopher (soft, proud): The Apex.
To Be Continued…