Troy shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but only because she threatened me. She was yelling at me, getting aggressive. You know how—” “Finish that sentence,” someone snapped sharply. Troy hesitated.
Ramos let out a slow exhale. He had done crowd control before, but this was volatile: racial tensions, multiple videos circulating, a girl hurt, and an arrogant teen instigating the flames. He already felt a headache forming. Kyle chimed in quickly. “We didn’t do anything wrong. She started it.”
Mason nodded vigorously. “Yeah, dude. She was, like, super angry at him.” A woman in the crowd exploded. “She didn’t say a single angry word. You boys are lying through your teeth.” Ramos lifted a hand.
“Everyone calm down. I need statements, not screaming.” But the screaming didn’t stop. It intensified. People were angry, angrier than Ramos expected, and rightfully so. Nyla’s cries of pain, the cruelty of the attack, the live stream, the newly uncovered second video, it was a perfect storm.
Nyla choked out a cough, her voice cracked and small. “Please, my eyes.” The woman holding her glared up at Ramos. “She needs medical attention now.” Ramos nodded quickly. “An ambulance is on the way. Just hang tight.”
But he didn’t get to finish. Another man stepped forward, pointing straight at Troy. “You better arrest him right now. That girl could be blinded.” Ramos snapped, “Sir, back up.”
“Oh, now you care about backing up?” the man shot back. “Where were you five minutes ago when this girl was screaming for help?” The tension was spiraling. Troy folded his arms smugly. “Look, officer, you can check the footage. I’m sure it’ll show I did nothing wrong.”
The sarcasm dripping from his voice made several people gasp in disbelief. “You’re proud of yourself?” a teenager yelled. “You think this is funny?” “Lock him up already. He’s dangerous.” Kyle puffed out his chest, trying to defend Troy. “You all need to chill. He has rights, you know.”
“And she doesn’t?” a woman barked, pointing at Nyla. “Everyone stop yelling!” Ramos shouted, but even his voice couldn’t cut through the noise anymore. He stepped toward Troy. “Where’s the pepper spray?” Troy tossed it casually from hand to hand before offering it forward.
“Right here. Want it? Don’t worry. It’s legal.” Ramos blinked. The utter disrespect, combined with the fact that the boy was essentially bragging about assaulting someone, made something inside him snap tight. “This is a serious offense,” Ramos said in a far colder tone.
“You can’t just pepper-spray someone because you feel like it.” Kyle scoffed. “He didn’t feel like it. She was being weird.” The woman holding Nyla shouted, “She was minding her business!” Ramos pinched the bridge of his nose.
Control was slipping. He could feel it. A teenager in the crowd suddenly screamed, “The second video has over a million views!” Troy’s head jerked around. “What second video?”
Several people shoved their phones toward him, showing the resurfaced clip of him attacking the smaller Black boy. Ramos saw it out of the corner of his eye, and his stomach sank. This wasn’t just an assault. This was a pattern. Troy’s face turned red, first with anger, then with a flicker of fear, but he quickly hid it behind arrogance again.