Life & Work with Francisco ‘kiingcombo’ Andres of Los Angeles

Today we’d like to introduce you to Francisco ‘kiingcombo’ Andres.

Hi Francisco ‘kiingcombo’, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
Immigrant Journey and growth.

Hi, my name is Francisco Andres. I live in Los Angeles, but I’m originally from Guatemala. I came to the U.S. when I was 10 years old with my mom and siblings, crossing through Mexico and the Arizona desert with almost nothing. We traveled at night, rested during the day, and that journey is something I’ll never forget.

Coming from a small town in the Guatemalan highlands to Los Angeles was a huge culture shock. I felt out of place for years and missed home deeply. My first language is Q’anjob’al, a Mayan language, and I later learned Spanish in school. When I got to the U.S., I didn’t speak English, so it took me about five years to really understand and express myself.

We first lived in the Crenshaw district, where I experienced a lot of tension and violence growing up. Later, we moved to San Bernardino, where I started getting into trouble, trying to fit in and find a sense of belonging. Eventually, we moved again to Adelanto in the high desert, where things didn’t get easier. I was still getting into fights and making choices based on the environment around me.

Everything started to shift for me in middle school when YouTube was becoming popular and dance trends were spreading. I got introduced to jerkin, started watching tutorials, and became curious about movement—especially learning how to backflip. That moment sparked something in me, and it’s what led me to discover dance and eventually find my path.

Dance, mentorship and community.

Going into my freshman year of high school, I met who would become my best friend, Marcus “Boogiebot” Taylor. We met in a dance circle at lunch, and from that moment on we were training every day—before school, at lunch, and after school—sharing moves and pushing each other to get better.

Where we lived in the high desert, there wasn’t much for young people—no real programs or outlets—so dance became our escape and our purpose. Eventually, Marcus found a small breakdancing session at a church, where he met Artie Valle, who became our mentor.

Artie opened up his home to us through the Crossover Hip-Hop Ministry—a garage turned into a dance space with mirrors, graffiti, and floors to train on. For us, it was everything. We trained with dancers from all over the high desert, had short Bible studies, shared food, and kept practicing. Artie saw our hunger and took us under his wing—he even stayed late with us, drove us home, and built trust with our families. Over time, he became like family to us, supporting us however he could.

He also introduced us to the LA breaking scene—battles, events, and the culture—and showed us how to move with purpose in dance and in life. But after about two years, he had to leave California, and without that guidance, Marcus and I lost direction.

After high school, I spent a few years stuck—working odd jobs, losing focus, and feeling my passion slipping away because everything connected to dance felt out of reach.

Then one day, a friend, Dishon “Gold” Hall, told me something that stayed with me: ‘If you have a chance to leave, take it and don’t look back.’ The very next day, my dad mentioned he was driving to LA, and I realized that might be my opportunity to change everything.

Destiny’s call to LA

Crazy how destiny calls—you either answer it or ignore it. The day after talking with my friend, my dad told me he was going to LA for the day. At the same time, after months of trying to find work, I had just secured a job at Carl’s Jr. I was supposed to start that Tuesday—the same day my dad was heading to LA.

My mom, with the little money she made sewing clothes, had just bought me work shoes and slacks. Everything was lined up. But I also had another option—my sister in LA said I could stay with her, and her husband might help me find a job. So I had a choice: stay in the high desert with a guaranteed job, or take a risk on a new life in LA.

That morning, I chose to take the chance. I told my dad to drop me off at my sister’s, knowing I was walking away from the only job I had. I was scared, but I knew LA had to work—there was no backup plan.

A few weeks before that, I had a wake-up moment. I got pulled over with friends, and I had weed on me—bagged in a way that could’ve gotten me in serious trouble. Somehow, the cops didn’t find it. But that night, I lost my wallet—with my social security and green card inside. That moment stuck with me.

When I got to LA, my family welcomed me with open arms. The next day, I went to apply for a job through an agency my brother-in-law recommended. But when they asked for my documents, I had to tell them I lost everything. Without them, they couldn’t hire me.

In that moment, it all hit me. I had no job, no documents, and no way to go back to the opportunity I left behind. I called my sister, and the excitement quickly turned into disappointment. I had taken a risk on myself—and now I had to figure out how to make it work.”

Surviving and perusing dreams

After leaving my sister’s house one day, I started asking for work anywhere I could. I got a job at a car wash using my mobile detailing experience, and I even stopped by a Zumba studio where I offered my services and picked up three students. From there, I took on factory and warehouse jobs—mostly under the table—because my main focus was becoming financially stable.

About a month or two into living with my sister, I got kicked out by her in-laws, who owned the house. Suddenly, I had nowhere to go. I relied on connections from the dance scene, crashing at friends’ places while trying to figure things out. Thankfully, I had saved enough to put a down payment on a car, which eventually became a place to sleep.

After a few months, I reconnected with a friend in LA and we rented a studio together, but even then, I bounced from place to place and experienced homelessness multiple times. For about three years, I was stuck in survival mode—working just to pay bills and eat—so dancing took a backseat and my passion started to fade again.

Everything shifted when my best friend Marcus moved to LA. He had stayed committed to dance, got signed to a talent agency, and was working commercials. When we reconnected, he encouraged me to get back into dancing and showed me what was possible. Being in LA, close to Hollywood, with real opportunities around us, changed my mindset.

At the same time, I had been working at a company since 2016, and by 2018 I had worked my way up from a pallet organizer to essentially a lab technician, even though I was never officially given the title. I was opening and closing the company, doing the work of three people, and had become an essential part of the operation.

Commercial Audition Journey

After about a month of reconnecting with my friend Marcus, we decided to get a place together. I had a job at the time and was previously homeless, and he had money coming in but also needed housing, so it just made sense.

Around that time, he told me about a commercial audition, and I decided to go for it. It was just background work, nothing major, but it meant everything to me because it was my first step toward pursuing dance professionally and being on TV in any form. I told my boss how important it was to me. Even though I had vacation and sick time, I wasn’t supported in taking the day off, so I ended up calling out sick to attend the audition.

They said callbacks would come in about a week, but days went by with no response. I started doubting myself and wondering if I had failed or dreamed too big. Then, the night before the shoot at around 8 p.m., I got a text saying I was booked. I immediately said yes, but that meant I had to call out of work again.

On set, I was just excited to be there, meeting everyone and dancing while waiting for my turn. The pay was $200 a day for multiple shoot days, which already felt like a huge opportunity. Then, unexpectedly, one of the main cast members couldn’t make it, and they upgraded me from background to a lead role. After seeing me dancing and interacting, a director asked if I could do rap-style movements. I improvised, and that moment led to them offering me the lead.

My pay was increased to $500 per shoot day, plus a $5,000 buyout. I had never seen that kind of money in my life, especially for a few days of work, so I said yes immediately.

That same day, I met someone on set ( Brian Hunt) who would eventually become my fiancée and the mother of my child.

Afterward, everything changed. I got fired from my warehouse job after three years because I had used my sick and vacation days for the shoot, and a coworker reported it. After that, Marcus and I fully committed to dance. We started auditioning more and doing street performances to make ends meet. It was tough, but we made it work.

Drifting apart

Eventually, Marcus and I realized we weren’t compatible as roommates, so I moved out. Around that time, I entered a long relationship that lasted about five years. During that period, I experienced homelessness again at times, but we supported each other through it. We got through COVID together and even adopted two cats, Pumpkin and Queenie. Eventually, we realized we had grown apart and decided to separate.

After the breakup, I focused heavily on my career and started teaching breakdancing to the youth. At first, it was stable and fulfilling, but over time the cost of living increased while my pay stayed the same, and I realized I needed to make a change. Teaching kids also made me reflect on legacy and family, and I realized I wanted children of my own.

Family and support the beginning of a new journey

Around that time, Briana Hunt who I met on set years earlier reappeared on my social media. We started talking again as friends, bonding over video games. Eventually we reconnected in person at Santa Monica Pier, and what started as a casual hangout turned into something deeper. We spent hours together, laughing, talking, and realizing we both felt a connection we had never fully expressed the first time we met.

From there, we started seeing each other more, and our relationship naturally grew. I was always honest with her that I wanted children, and she shared the same desire.

Eventually, I made the decision to leave my teaching job and open my own breakdancing school, Los Angeles Breaking School, backed by my crew, Los Angeles Breakers, and my family.

Today, Briana is my fiancée, we have a one-year-old son Nasir, and both of our lives are moving forward. She’s back pursuing acting with representation again, and my school is growing. Everything I’ve gone through led me here, and I’m building all of this for our future and our son. The story is not over just the beginning of a new chapter.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Immigrant Journey and growth.

Hi, my name is Francisco Andres. I live in Los Angeles, but I’m originally from Guatemala. I came to the U.S. when I was 10 years old with my mom and siblings, crossing through Mexico and the Arizona desert with almost nothing. We traveled at night, rested during the day, and that journey is something I’ll never forget.

Coming from a small town in the Guatemalan highlands to Los Angeles was a huge culture shock. I felt out of place for years and missed home deeply. My first language is Q’anjob’al, a Mayan language, and I later learned Spanish in school. When I got to the U.S., I didn’t speak English, so it took me about five years to really understand and express myself.

We first lived in the Crenshaw district, where I experienced a lot of tension and violence growing up. Later, we moved to San Bernardino, where I started getting into trouble, trying to fit in and find a sense of belonging. Eventually, we moved again to Adelanto in the high desert, where things didn’t get easier. I was still getting into fights and making choices based on the environment around me.

Everything started to shift for me in middle school when YouTube was becoming popular and dance trends were spreading. I got introduced to jerkin, started watching tutorials, and became curious about movement—especially learning how to backflip. That moment sparked something in me, and it’s what led me to discover dance and eventually find my path.

Dance, mentorship and community.

Going into my freshman year of high school, I met who would become my best friend, Marcus “Boogiebot” Taylor. We met in a dance circle at lunch, and from that moment on we were training every day—before school, at lunch, and after school—sharing moves and pushing each other to get better.

Where we lived in the high desert, there wasn’t much for young people—no real programs or outlets—so dance became our escape and our purpose. Eventually, Marcus found a small breakdancing session at a church, where he met Artie Valle, who became our mentor.

Artie opened up his home to us through the Crossover Hip-Hop Ministry—a garage turned into a dance space with mirrors, graffiti, and floors to train on. For us, it was everything. We trained with dancers from all over the high desert, had short Bible studies, shared food, and kept practicing. Artie saw our hunger and took us under his wing—he even stayed late with us, drove us home, and built trust with our families. Over time, he became like family to us, supporting us however he could.

He also introduced us to the LA breaking scene—battles, events, and the culture—and showed us how to move with purpose in dance and in life. But after about two years, he had to leave California, and without that guidance, Marcus and I lost direction.

After high school, I spent a few years stuck—working odd jobs, losing focus, and feeling my passion slipping away because everything connected to dance felt out of reach.

Then one day, a friend, Dishon “Gold” Hall, told me something that stayed with me: ‘If you have a chance to leave, take it and don’t look back.’ The very next day, my dad mentioned he was driving to LA, and I realized that might be my opportunity to change everything.

Destiny’s call to LA

Crazy how destiny calls—you either answer it or ignore it. The day after talking with my friend, my dad told me he was going to LA for the day. At the same time, after months of trying to find work, I had just secured a job at Carl’s Jr. I was supposed to start that Tuesday—the same day my dad was heading to LA.

My mom, with the little money she made sewing clothes, had just bought me work shoes and slacks. Everything was lined up. But I also had another option—my sister in LA said I could stay with her, and her husband might help me find a job. So I had a choice: stay in the high desert with a guaranteed job, or take a risk on a new life in LA.

That morning, I chose to take the chance. I told my dad to drop me off at my sister’s, knowing I was walking away from the only job I had. I was scared, but I knew LA had to work—there was no backup plan.

A few weeks before that, I had a wake-up moment. I got pulled over with friends, and I had weed on me—bagged in a way that could’ve gotten me in serious trouble. Somehow, the cops didn’t find it. But that night, I lost my wallet—with my social security and green card inside. That moment stuck with me.

When I got to LA, my family welcomed me with open arms. The next day, I went to apply for a job through an agency my brother-in-law recommended. But when they asked for my documents, I had to tell them I lost everything. Without them, they couldn’t hire me.

In that moment, it all hit me. I had no job, no documents, and no way to go back to the opportunity I left behind. I called my sister, and the excitement quickly turned into disappointment. I had taken a risk on myself—and now I had to figure out how to make it work.”

Surviving and perusing dreams

After leaving my sister’s house one day, I started asking for work anywhere I could. I got a job at a car wash using my mobile detailing experience, and I even stopped by a Zumba studio where I offered my services and picked up three students. From there, I took on factory and warehouse jobs—mostly under the table—because my main focus was becoming financially stable.

About a month or two into living with my sister, I got kicked out by her in-laws, who owned the house. Suddenly, I had nowhere to go. I relied on connections from the dance scene, crashing at friends’ places while trying to figure things out. Thankfully, I had saved enough to put a down payment on a car, which eventually became a place to sleep.

After a few months, I reconnected with a friend in LA and we rented a studio together, but even then, I bounced from place to place and experienced homelessness multiple times. For about three years, I was stuck in survival mode—working just to pay bills and eat—so dancing took a backseat and my passion started to fade again.

Everything shifted when my best friend Marcus moved to LA. He had stayed committed to dance, got signed to a talent agency, and was working commercials. When we reconnected, he encouraged me to get back into dancing and showed me what was possible. Being in LA, close to Hollywood, with real opportunities around us, changed my mindset.

At the same time, I had been working at a company since 2016, and by 2018 I had worked my way up from a pallet organizer to essentially a lab technician, even though I was never officially given the title. I was opening and closing the company, doing the work of three people, and had become an essential part of the operation.

Commercial Audition Journey

After about a month of reconnecting with my friend Marcus, we decided to get a place together. I had a job at the time and was previously homeless, and he had money coming in but also needed housing, so it just made sense.

Around that time, he told me about a commercial audition, and I decided to go for it. It was just background work, nothing major, but it meant everything to me because it was my first step toward pursuing dance professionally and being on TV in any form. I told my boss how important it was to me. Even though I had vacation and sick time, I wasn’t supported in taking the day off, so I ended up calling out sick to attend the audition.

They said callbacks would come in about a week, but days went by with no response. I started doubting myself and wondering if I had failed or dreamed too big. Then, the night before the shoot at around 8 p.m., I got a text saying I was booked. I immediately said yes, but that meant I had to call out of work again.

On set, I was just excited to be there, meeting everyone and dancing while waiting for my turn. The pay was $200 a day for multiple shoot days, which already felt like a huge opportunity. Then, unexpectedly, one of the main cast members couldn’t make it, and they upgraded me from background to a lead role. After seeing me dancing and interacting, a director asked if I could do rap-style movements. I improvised, and that moment led to them offering me the lead.

My pay was increased to $500 per shoot day, plus a $5,000 buyout. I had never seen that kind of money in my life, especially for a few days of work, so I said yes immediately.

That same day, I met someone on set ( Brian Hunt) who would eventually become my fiancée and the mother of my child.

Afterward, everything changed. I got fired from my warehouse job after three years because I had used my sick and vacation days for the shoot, and a coworker reported it. After that, Marcus and I fully committed to dance. We started auditioning more and doing street performances to make ends meet. It was tough, but we made it work.

Drifting apart

Eventually, Marcus and I realized we weren’t compatible as roommates, so I moved out. Around that time, I entered a long relationship that lasted about five years. During that period, I experienced homelessness again at times, but we supported each other through it. We got through COVID together and even adopted two cats, Pumpkin and Queenie. Eventually, we realized we had grown apart and decided to separate.

After the breakup, I focused heavily on my career and started teaching breakdancing to the youth. At first, it was stable and fulfilling, but over time the cost of living increased while my pay stayed the same, and I realized I needed to make a change. Teaching kids also made me reflect on legacy and family, and I realized I wanted children of my own.

Family and support the beginning of a new journey

Around that time, Briana Hunt who I met on set years earlier reappeared on my social media. We started talking again as friends, bonding over video games. Eventually we reconnected in person at Santa Monica Pier, and what started as a casual hangout turned into something deeper. We spent hours together, laughing, talking, and realizing we both felt a connection we had never fully expressed the first time we met.

From there, we started seeing each other more, and our relationship naturally grew. I was always honest with her that I wanted children, and she shared the same desire.

Eventually, I made the decision to leave my teaching job and open my own breakdancing school, Los Angeles Breaking School, backed by my crew, Los Angeles Breakers, and my family.

Today, Briana is my fiancée, we have a one-year-old son Nasir, and both of our lives are moving forward. She’s back pursuing acting with representation again, and my school is growing. Everything I’ve gone through led me here, and I’m building all of this for our future and our son. The story is not over just the beginning of a new chapter.

Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
Im a professional dance artist. I’m a creative, Coach, Actor with many more skills than i can count on my two hands. I specialize in breaking or breakdancing. I have done many known works and worked with many brands. Some notable brands and feats are Hulu, Samsung, Fresh Empire, LA Fashion Week NBC, Visa and etc. I was featured on a Billboard in Time Square NYC the one at the famous red stairs. My Image made it to NY before i did ahaha. Ive taugh over hundreds of kids how to break in the LAUSD, Manhattan Beach USD, Culver City USD and Inglewood USD. What sets me apart is my energy and work ethic. People always praise my work ethic and my energy. They always think im conceited by the way i carry myself but when people get to know me they always say wow your so different than what i imagine you would be, you’re so kind and nice to people.

We’d love to hear about how you think about risk taking?
lifes a risk carnal – Paco ‘el gallo negro’.

Destiny’s call to LA

Crazy how destiny calls—you either answer it or ignore it. The day after talking with my friend, my dad told me he was going to LA for the day. At the same time, after months of trying to find work, I had just secured a job at Carl’s Jr. I was supposed to start that Tuesday—the same day my dad was heading to LA.

My mom, with the little money she made sewing clothes, had just bought me work shoes and slacks. Everything was lined up. But I also had another option—my sister in LA said I could stay with her, and her husband might help me find a job. So I had a choice: stay in the high desert with a guaranteed job, or take a risk on a new life in LA.

That morning, I chose to take the chance. I told my dad to drop me off at my sister’s, knowing I was walking away from the only job I had. I was scared, but I knew LA had to work—there was no backup plan.

Pricing:

• beginner classes $320 for a 14 week session

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.losangelesbreakingschool.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kiingcombo