Drowning

Forty Nine;

Watching Harry fight had been exhilarating. Scary, but exhilarating all the same. The pride I felt just by watching him be back in the ring was beyond words- let alone watching him win his first fight back since almost dying. I figured, if he could face his deepest fears, then I could face mine.

Hence, the strip club.

"Another round of shots," the bartender says to Lauren and I.

Tom and Ben had gone to watch the strippers. Bella wasn't on tonight. I'd texted her to ask, but she wasn't working. So, Lauren and I stayed back to drink ourselves into oblivion. Luke and Harry had gone outside to smoke, or something.

After taking the next round of shots, we heard our favourite nostalgic song, 'Don't Stop The Music', by Rihanna, come on.

"Oh my god!" we both gasp.

In our incredibly drunken state, we began to dance just at the bar together; hands running through our hair and hips moving as the alcohol and beat of the song consumed us.

As we danced, we hadn't noticed that we had acquired a crowd, of sorts.

Breaking us from the trance of our intoxicated dancing, some young men joined in with us, attempting to get us to grind against them the way we had been together.

"Ugh," Lauren groans, stopping her movements.

"Always gotta ruin the mood," I huff, referring to the men who had piled in around us.

"Come on, baby. Don't stop," one of the guys slurs, taking ahold of my hand in an attempt to get me to dance with him.

"Get off." I demand, shaking my hand from his grasp.

"Fancy a drink?" another guy says, looking at both Lauren and I.

"No," Lauren says. "We would not."

"Dance with me," the other guy says to me again.

"Let's go," I say to Lauren, grabbing ahold of her hand and wading out from the group of men that had surrounded us.

"Hey!" a man yells out. "Isn't she that boxer's bird?"

Internally, I began to panic. Externally, I put on a brave face and continued trying to walk out from the crowds of people, hoping to make it outside.

"Even hotter in person," one says.

"Wasn't she a stripper?"

"Oi, oi, sexy,"

"Which boxer?"

"I'd let her do me any day,"

Finally, we made our way outside, hand in hand, safely.

"My god," Lauren exhales shakily. "I despise men."

"Tell me about it," I sigh, before taking a deep breath to recollect myself. "Too drunk to deal with them,"

"Me too," she nods. "Wonder where Harry and Luke got to," Lauren says.

"No idea," I shrug. "Kind of lucky Harry wasn't there, or he would've beaten the shit out of those guys," I chuckle.

"Oh, there they are!" Lauren says, pointing across the street to where Harry and Luke stood.

Except, they weren't alone.

Now that we had noticed them, the sounds became all too apparent.

"What are they-" Lauren begins, her eyes glued to the sight ahead.

Above the muffled music, sounds of boots slamming, coughs spluttering, grunts echoing, took centre stage of our attention.

"What are they doing, Zahara?" Lauren panics, her voice wobbling as she watched the two men pound another men relentlessly; illuminated only faintly by a street lamp just down the road. I knew Harry, and I knew he'd chosen a slightly darker spot so as to avoid attention, but not dark enough that he couldn't see his work. It was a part of him that was twisted.