Apostasian Revelations

Chapter Two

Rosy cheeked and happily singing along, Scot certainly made Miguel's uncertain feelings get washed away as the two and alongside a couple dozen more of the now arriving members of their old school batch had fun, singing new, old and even a couple folk songs of many different varieties and genres.

     "Mig-Miguel.. I think I need to go outside for a bit."

Scot's slightly raspy voice and uneasy face made Miguel concerned, abandoning his currently half eaten Negro Spaghetti and quarter drunken mango juice glass for his friend in need, the rest didn't even pay them any heed, not that most of them recognised the black headed man anyways.

    "Right.." giving a brief thumbs up before starting the vomit bath to the bushes nearby, Miguel just awkwardly stumbled around while trying his best to comfort his currently downed and outplayed second best friend.

Abruptly halting his maneuvering however, the revving engines blared to life as a man with an aqua green mohawk and leather jacket, followed ensuite by a ballad of similarly dressed up folks with more tattoos than the zeroes in Miguel's bank account currently, it was a face that made the black haired man's gut cry out slightly, eyes dropping to the ground and near his passed out friend who was currently busy drifting off to somewhere else within the deep corners of his own mind.

     "Hey.. ain't that.. well Miguel, how's it been? Learned any tricks or tips yet?"

     "Gould, nice to see you too, I'm fine-!"

Feeling spit gush into his mouth as the man's fist somewhat made it's way to tingle the back of his spine, the flying punch that made his teeth feel like it were chewing on gristle.

His lungs feeling bright burning sensations, hotter than blue fire, and the burn was unreal and peerless for the moment, as he coughed up his response, a coughing fit that made him hesitate to even think of getting back up before checking for blood.

   "Really? Was wanting to.. toughen you up to the cases that be, but it does not matter, does it?.. you went to college yet? Gotten a degree yet?"

   "Have you?" His answering question granting him another wince as he felt the blood trickle back to his through, he felt bruised and burning feelings throughout his lungs and throat, hopeless and helpless perhaps.

   "Heh...hey.. what's with the lights up here? Oh hey! Nathan! Let go of him, you bastard! He's just a.. just a little.."

Miguel's crawling figure could only assume his friend was safe as he was picked up and pinned to the mossy cold bricked wall, heavily lamenting on having ever even considered himself to be safe from the baggage of his past, as he felt the embers of his cough ignite something he should have checked up a long time ago.

Suddenly, the beat down just stopped, and he knew why, as an angelic voice rung into his ears, he could only hope his clothes weren't too badly ripped apart.

   "Nathan? Honey, you really should stop messing around with random guys down the block, shouldn't you?"

Feeling the push against his collar ease up slightly, he slumped towards the ground as his cough worsened.

   "Meg, Honey boo, you're seriously trying to save this uncouth bastard?"

  "And what did I tell you about cursing?"

  "Alright.. fine.. I'm sorry, Meguin, I won't curse ever again, just for you though."

The 'Aww's going around sickened him, and he didn't feel like even wanting to watch the two get in on it, the biker gang was nearby and it would have been best that he pick himself up and get out of there as fast as he could, absconding from the situation and abandoning Scot to fate. Yet he didn't do that, as he crawled to check up on the similarly downed blond.