Chapter Text
You have your friends, good food, and even better drinks. Tonight is great. The four of you are seated in a booth set into the wall, the lights dim beyond the blue and green beams dancing across the floor, out over the club’s interior. Even though the music sounds like a dying cat, the others were enjoying themselves, so you don’t care (much).
Rose excused herself to the ladies room a few minutes ago, with John keeping an eye on her from the upstairs walkway-slash-secondary-bar-area. Poor guy had no clue about her, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him just yet.
Jade sits across from you, gazing out at the floor. The swell of people sway and gyrate to the music pumped from the speakers spread throughout the club. The air thrummed and cracked at the whim of the DJ, a shadow in his booth, and the people here moved with it.
Seeing the longing in her face, you get up. Those green eyes snap to you and stay there as you motion for her to follow you. The pair of you make your way through the crush of people and you take the lead, moving with the beats that pounded in the air--even if they weren’t half as dope as yours. Jade takes your example and starts dancing as well, and after a few seconds the stiffness starts working itself out of her, grace nesting in its place.
The thought hit you: Jade was graceful. She wasn’t the gangly teenager you’d met years ago and spoken to both before and since. The lot of you weren’t thirteen anymore, and Jade was growing into quite the woman (you supposed Rose was as well, but you’re not going to go there--it'd be like making out with your sister or something). With her dark hair laid out across her shoulders to her lower back, the light blue short dress swaying with her--It pulls something up to your throat that you have to swallow back nervously.
You’re mesmerized as the two of you continue like this for a few tracks. Suddenly there’s a hitch in her moves. Her smile drops and she looks at herself frantically, patting at her clothes. You give her your concerned face as she turns and starts shouldering her way back through the crowd, practically sprinting to the bar once she gets out. Naturally, you’re right behind her.
“You okay there Harley?” You grab the seat on her right, as some Raven casting call reject pulls up to her left with a “Like the motorcycle?”.
You lean back from the bar to get a better look at him with a “Dude do you mind?”, He looks at you like you’d just taken a dump on his leather knee-high boots. The guy leans in to say something to her you don’t catch. You have a feeling she didn’t hear, since she was still sitting there with her eyes closed and a white-knuckled grip on the bar.
“Do you not see her freaking out? Give her some air.” You’re out of the chair now, standing back from her shoulder.
“Then why don’t you back off and give her some room?” He leans in again, and you’ve crossed behind Jade to stand at his back. He glances back and then ignores you.
“Look--” When your hand reaches his shoulder he springs up from the chair, rounding on you.
“What’s your problem?” It’s only when he’s looming over you that you notice tall dark and spooky here has a good three inches on you (and you are by no means short at five-eleven). Obviously he was waiting to make a scene. You’ve seen his type before.
“You can see she’s ignoring you, go creep out someone else.” Squinting theatrically at him behind your shades you add, “And you might wanna hit the bathroom, your mascara’s running.”
That got him. He shoves you in the chest so you go with it, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back with you while you turn and sidestep the impact. He stumbles forward as you hook his ankle, sending him sprawling past you as you step back to the bar. The lady working the it looks over at the exchange warily, and you give her a shrug. “Tripped. Guy must be feeling his drinks.”
The other guy picks himself off the ground and levels what has to be his best ‘This isn’t over’ glare before slinking off around the crowds.
You take his seat and lean over to get a better look at Jade, still frozen there like before. You put a hand on her shoulder, “Yo Harley? Harley? Jade?” With no response, you scan the walkways for your dorky friend. He seems to have evaporated, so you message him:
- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 23:12! -
TG: john
TG: john
TG: earth to john
TG: jade had a bluescreen while dancing is this normal
TG: yo john you there
- ectoBiologist [EB] is now an idle chum! -
Stowing your phone you note you have some more company--looks like Marilyn Manson’s wardrobe designer from a minute ago called over some friends. You’ll call them Larry, Moe, and Curly since you don’t care to ask their names. Moe crosses his arms while Larry gives you the usual “Let’s take this outside” routine, and Curly scowls when you turn to the Barkeep and ask they keep an eye on Jade--too many creeps about tonight. After that you follow the gentlemen out into the parking lot.
From there It’s a bit fuzzy: Moe swings on you and you duck under, curling behind him for a spinning elbow to the kidney while Curly and Larry try to grab you. You backhand Larry with your fist and step out of their way while Moe’s still reeling from the hit, Bro’s lessons barking through your head in fast forward:
Don’t let them surround you, You uppercut Curly in reply to a poorly aimed haymaker, Get your back some cover, stomping down on Moe’s instep as you pull Larry into Curly’s kick, Fight dirty, You elbow Larry in the side of the neck when he tries to get around you, and kick out at Curly, catching him in the side, Excessive force is just about enough--
At this point a crowd has gathered, not that you noticed.
--You knee Moe in the face as he tries to tackle you, if you think they’re cheating it just means you’re underprepared, ducking past Curly’s punch you kick him in the groin while keeping him between you and Larry, be ready to break your opponent, Moe you catch with a hook to the jaw, staggering him.
There’s a lull as they draw back a step to recover, and you take stock of the situation: The three of them are still bigger and stronger than you, but Larry is sporting a nasty bruise along his neck and shoulder, Moe’s got a bloody nose and the makings of a black eye, as well as favoring his right leg, and Curly is clutching his side and still walking funny from the earlier nut-shot.
You’re unhurt, but getting winded. The crowd is about fifteen people in a loose circle, watching the action and jeering.
“We don’t gotta do this guys.” You call over the crowd, “We can go back inside and enjoy the rest of the night.”
The three glower over and Curly shouts “Fuck you!”
“Last chance guys, I really don’t wanna have to call an ambulance for you.”
Larry growls and charges you, followed quickly by the other two, and the dance starts over.
You do much the same this round, aiming for places like the eyes, throat, armpits, stomach, groin, sides and back of the knees, toes and arches--places that really fucking hurt getting hit or stomped on. They get a few hits in on you though; a punch to your stomach, a bruise you could feel growing on the left side of your face, and a line across your back burned where you’d leaned out of a kick just a hair too slow.
It wasn’t anything serious until you feel an icy sting across your chest when Moe swung at you. Your jacket and shirt were torn--the fucker had pulled a knife.
The crowd--now at about twenty or twenty-five people--gasped.
From there you weren’t waiting for them to attack first anymore. You kick Larry in the chest and grab Moe’s arm as he stabs at you, slamming your other elbow into his wrist. There's a sick crack and Moe drops the knife with a yelp--you broke his arm. You kick him in the face after he topples to his knees clutching himself, and he falls slack on the ground.
You turn to the others and get tackled from the side by Curly and slung to the ground after that, with he and Larry kicking and swinging at you while you try to roll away or get space to get up.