The Rules to Redemption

Chapter 8: Befriended Crackhead

Good morning mother fuckers,

What's your favourite colour?

Me: black
And before you intellectual mfs tell me that it is a shade...idc. It's a colour in my eyes.

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I tired out rather quickly though I couldn't bring myself to stop dancing.
As the alcohol was beginning to wear off the both of us, me and Sierra caught eyes from opposite ends of the club, both amused at each other's enjoyment.
Though her eyes suspiciously widened until I realised they weren't on me but a lengthy figure behind me.

It must have been a reflex that I turned around in an instant almost punching that figure behind me.
Cautiously stumbling back, I catch sight of a man, one I didn't recognise.
People are weird.

He wasn't ugly but I immediately found no fondness towards him. I analysed the room and noticed a few people that happened to be aquatinted with him.
This is suspicious.

"Can I help you?" I curiously ask.

"In a few ways." He smirks.
Oh, nice. I hate my life.

"Would one of those include a right hook? Or perhaps a backhand? Possibly a knee to the dick, if I'm feeling up to it?" I suggest.

He scoffs beneath his exterior, "you're a good dancer."

"I'm flattered." I attempt to back away without suspicion.

Where is my befriended crackhead when I need her?

"You should dance with me?" He suggests edging closer towards me.
And you buddy, you should suck a dick

"My legs don't work. Look." I shake my dominant leg like an idiot.

BEFRIENDED CRACKHEAD. I SUMMON
YOU!

"Don't worry. I'm looking." He smirks.
Oh shit.

I notice his arm reach out and make contact with my waist, his grip was harsh though bearable. It was then where a wave of anger ran through me.
My hand firmly gripped his wrist, nails digging into it, "Get the fuck off me."

"We're just dancing love." He smirks.
"Don't make a scene. People don't like scenes."

His touch made me feel sick, "I said get the fuck off me." I demand more fiercer than before.

He was amused at my words, it angered me so much. I was ready to make a move of defence though I noticed shards of glass appear beyond me. I soon realised that this man had been hit across the back of the head with a champagne bottle. His expression changed immediately before he toppled to the floor leaving Sierra proudly in my sight...holding the other half of the bottle.

I stared at him on the ground, painfully grabbing his head and the sudden desire to attack him came to me.

"Fuck."
Stomp

"You."
Stomp

"Bitch!
Stomp stomp stomp

Pausing to catch my breath, I was profoundly impressed with myself and the bruised masterpiece on the ground.
Though what I did notice was the music alone, the rest of the club had gone silent and all eyes were on me and Sierra.

I had to gain my acting tactics within seconds.

"Oh my god! Who would do such a thing?" I stare obliviously at the man on the floor.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Sierra adds trying to play this off.

God we're great fucking actors.