I'm going to use the most recent masks for this story, the original personalities of the members aren't going to be as realistic in this story, please don't let this story depict any image on the real men this is being written about.

Y/n pov

The door slammed, followed by drunken laughs and slurs, signaling my mother was home. Looking over my shoulder, I could see she was dragging another man with her. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I turned away. She would always do this, bring home whatever man she could find to fuck or do whatever drugs she could get her STD covered hands on. "Hey!" anger flooded my veins, "Get the fuck o-out!" She didn't even wait for me to move, pushing back the man she brought, who was just as wasted. Cursing under my breath, I left. I walked passed my dingy room, going straight to the makeshift storage room. The room wasn't anything special, a few boxes were thrown in a corner, other things were strewn around. This room used to be filled with boxes. Those boxes filled with expensive, irreplaceable objects. Things like family pictures, old baby toys, things like that. But slowly, as my dad passed away, my mother sold everything. She became distant, relying on crack and alcohol to deal with the loss. I was thrown aside as if I was trash. Blinking away the tears, I kneeled in front of one of the few boxes. Pulling the contents out, I tried desperately to remember what life was like before my father died. I was young when it happened, only vaguely remembering small things. I remember we used to have a huge house, maybe we were rich, maybe we weren't. I wouldn't know. I grabbed the first item, a stuffed bear. It was old, the fake fur only visible in small patches, an eye missing. I smiled, I liked to think I played with it when I was younger, maybe I named it something like Beary or Fluffy, something childlike. I picked up another, a vase. It was made in a spiraled style, a deep blue with lighter details, the top was broken off. Maybe he bought it for my mother when we were a family, a red rose adorned with it, was it a valentines gift? Gently setting it down, I picked up one more, a photo album. It was made to hold almost fifty photots, however only around ten were left. Most of were my dad, or our family. He was a kind man, with grey hair, kind eyes, and a kind smile. He looked like the kind of guy you could tell anything too. Someone who would never approve of the treatment I was given. I couldn't remember the last time I was given a hug or even a real conversation. I had to deal with that whore my entire life, I couldn't do this for the rest of it. I could run, leave and never turn back. Would she even notice I was gone, would she care? As far as I could recall, she never cared about me. I made my decision. Setting the small album down, I left the room, slipping into my own. I pulled out a backpack, one I used when we would move. I quickly stuffed the few things I owned, the few clothes I owned, and a brush. slinging a jacket over my shoulder, I shut the door to my room. I started for the front door, but stopped, quickly returning back to the storage room. I picked up the album and the stuffed bear, unzipping the bag to stow them away. I left again, quickly but quietly. It was easy to get passed my mother, considering what she was doing. I didn't even have to sneak, throwing open the door to leave. I almost wished she would notice and call me back. The only sound, however, was the door shutting behind me. Sealing my fate.

I made my way down the dark streets, avoiding every glance I got. The streets were full of homeless men, prostitutes, and drug dealers. I didn't exactly live on the good side of town. Slowing to a stop, I took a moment to think. Where was I even going? I had no plan, I just packed my things and walked out. Where would I even sleep? I suddenly started to regret leaving, this was a stupid idea. I turned, prepared to go home, but something suddenly stopped me. A man stood a few feet away. He was skinny and short, but clearly a threat. He wore a silver mask, blue pain resembling tears ran from his eyes, three peices of pink tape ran across the lips of his mask. The mask rose slightly as he grinned, stepping closer. "Whats a cute little kitten like you doing on my streets?" His voice was contorted because of the mask. I quickly looked around, realizing everyone was gone, either fled or not having been there at all. I turned fully around, every step he took, I backed up. "Come on, baby, I got free candy," He offered in a sing song voice. My face twisted in disgusted, "Stay away from me." The man simply laughed, "We can play if you wanna play." He broke into a run before I could react, slamming me against the wall violently. I screamed, trying to push him away. My arms were pushed down, pinned. I squeezed my eyes shut, he pressed a hand against my mouth, silencing my screams for help. 
"Picking on the weak. You haven't changed." The new voice made the masked man stop. Laughing softly, he let me go, turning around to face the newcommer. Looking passed his body, I could see that there were three men, all wearing masks.
"I thought we told you to stay out of our turf."
Only I would run away from my shit life, and then be stuck in the middle of a gang war. The one who spoke had broad shoulders and a strong build, he wore a blue and white mask that looked liek it would fit more into a fairy tail, though he made it look like it was forged in hell. Another one wore a bandana instead of a mask, along with a black pair of glasses and a matching face, it did the same job as hiding his features. The last wore a mask like the the other, his was black and white, however, each side either grinning or scowling. His hair was an unruling mess of curls. The most unnerving thing about him was the fact that his eyes were fixed on me, cold eyes staring into my own. 
Eye contact broke as he looked at the silver masked man, who started to speak, "Johnny boy!" He exclaimed, "I was looking for you, actually. I was hoping we co-"
"Cut the shit," 'Johnny', as he called the blue masked one, hissed, "These streets are mine now, and I want you gone. Or do I have to make you?" The others fake friendly attitude dropped, "You forget, these were my streets before you ever showed your ugly face! If I have to start a war to get them back," He laughed, "I will!" Johnny suddenly pulled out a gun, aiming it at the man, "Not today, Deuce. You're outnumbered, unless you want to die, I suggest you leave and don't come back."
"Oh, heh, I will be back, John, I'll be back with an army! I can promise you that." And with that, he was gone, racing down the streets. "What do we do with the girl?" The bandanna one asked, nodding towards me. Johnny didn't so much as look at me, watching Deuce disappeared behind a building. "She's bound to go to the police, kill her." My eyes widened, I could only watch as he came closer, whipping out a knife. The curly haired one suddenly stopped him, however, quickly muttering something I couldn't hear. Johnny, apparently, considered it, knodding slightly. He started towards me, walking pass the bandannad one, who put his weopen away. As he went, he pulled a cloth and a small vile out of his pocket, pouring the unknown liquid onto it. I tried running too late, the man wasily caught me, slamming me back against the wall, not hesitating to press the cloth against my face. The world suddenly darkened, the last thing I saw before blacking out was that grinning mask. 
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Hopefully this is much better than the previous version, sorry it's still shitty.
Also, I'm sorry for any errors, my editing add on stopped working.