Falling for you | FNF | Carol X Whitty

Chapter 1

Whitty entered the noisy lounge, trying to not draw too much attention to himself. Though that was quite hard being a sentient bomb. He got some stares but he put on his hood and said nothing. He came here to watch young talents to reminisce about his days as a rock star, but that was over. No one knew his name anymore. He watched all the talent on the stage, the young artists. But one, in particular, caught his eye.
As Whitty got a drink and watched people go up there and do what he could never, he saw them. Sunday, a short feisty Latino up-and-coming rock star. They were holding a guitar and there were large speakers on the stage. “What is funkin everybody!!!” She cheered but no one cheered back. “Heh… tough crowd. My name is Sunday! This is my debut song and I hope you all like it!” The type of music caught his eye, it was loud but very full of passion. Though, halfway through the song, Sunday was interrupted by the sound of a cord pulling out of a speaker. She looked over and saw the manager of the lounge with a very angry look. He signaled for them to follow him outside.
Whitty, bored as hell, decided to just screw it and see what was going on. Whitty overheard Sunday and the manager talking in the alleyway behind the lounge. “Young lady, that song is way too loud and inappropriate for our establishment!” He heard the manager yell.
“Oh please, maybe it’s because your old-ass just doesn’t appreciate good music.”
“We have children here! The parents were covering their children’s ears because of the repetitive profanities and political topics!”
“Jesus Christ, can’t you bigots learn to get over yourself? This club is for self-expression and those kids probably needed to know that the world is fucked.”
“Ugh, that’s it! I hereby ban you from this night lounge!” Upon hearing that, Sunday was caught off guard.
“Wait sir please, this is the only club in the area that hasn’t shut me out. If I want to pursue my band, I’ll have to move. Please.”
The manager was steaming at this point and didn’t wanna hear it. “Ah ah ah… not another word. Out.”
Honestly, Whitty had no idea what he was doing but as Sunday had accepted her fate and was about to walk away, he came up behind and put his hand on their shoulder.
“They’re with me and not going anywhere.” Sunday looked up at the towering figure behind them. Whitty looked down at them since he was over 3 feet taller than them. It was a quick look but he remained at eye-contact with the manager. Sunday soon got the message and smiled in gratitude. “And who are you supposed to be?” The manager asked while crossing his arms.
Whitty read the name tag and “Mr. Vega.” was about 6 feet but still at the point where he had to look up at Whitty to talk to him. He didn’t seem that intimidated so Whitty pulled down the risky big guns. Whitty would usually do this since it's way too risky but he looked around, say no security cameras and they were in an alleyway with no one but themselves. He slowly put back his hood and let his bomb head show. Thankfully the streets weren’t crowded so no one but the two saw. Sunday let out a little gasp and all the color in the Vega’s face had washed away. “Whitty.” He said in his most intimidating voice he could muster up. “Now, don’t make me repeat myself. You will let Sunday play at your club. No questions asked. Are we clear?” Whitty felt his fuse start to spark and knew they had to rap it up. Vega straightened his tie, cleared his throat, though still visually nervous, and tried to get his composure back. He quietly nodded his head and went back inside.
Whitty put his hood back on, looked around, and let out a shaky sigh. He then saw Sunday looking at him in awe.
“Oh… my… fucking… GOD! THAT WAS AMAZING!” Whitty put his hand behind his head.
“It was nothing.” Whitty said this then was about to head back inside but then felt a tiny hand grab his long arm.
“Oh no no no, that was not nothing. I have so many questions. Let’s go inside and get a drink.”
Sunday smiled and Whitty rolled his eyes and thought one thing as Sunday dragged him inside to an empty table.
What did I just get myself into?