I don't give a damn about my reputation

What did you see?

Bruce pov

I roll over in my bed, reading the time of my clock. 2:00 am.
Goddam it
I don't seem to sleep well these days. My dad has me running rings when it comes to my baseball career.
"There's scouts out there who would kill for your talent" he always says. I'm 16. I think there is only one person in the world who started that young.
I wish he would let me rest
He makes me so tired, I can't even sleep

I push back my bed covers and plant my feet on the floor. I walk over to my door and grab my coat of the door hanger. I slip it over my shoulders and zip it up. 
Mabye a cold winter walk will help tire me out?
I open my bedroom window and carefully climb out. Using the pipes, I slide down and land on the grass, a gust of cold wind entering my lungs. I begin to walk.
I have no specific destination, so I suppose I might just wonder around for a bit.
For what felts like hours, I just mindlessly walked around. Through bushes, under trees, along the road. I forgot my watch, so I don't know what time it is. I turned around and I heard what sounded like arguing.
I know, it's rude to eavesdrop, but as long as they don't see me, I'm sure they won't mind?
I walk towards the the noise and it starts to gradually increase.
Wait
I recognise that voice
I place my hands on the wall and peer around the corner
I was right
It was Vance Pinball Hopper

His hair was wild as usual. Every step he took, it bounced around. For someone with his kind of reputation, he sure looked after his hair.
He seemed to be arguing with
The wall?
I thought about taking a closer look, but that idea instantly vanished when he punched the wall, a large crack appearing on its surface. He didn't even flinch. His fists hit the wall a few more times, blood dripping down his arms and raw skin exposed.
I saw something steam down his face
Tears?
Vance the Pinball Hopper
Was crying?
I swear, he could read my mind. Or sense my presence, because the minute I decided to leave he turned his head, staring right into my eyes.
Those piercing blue eyes
I began to back up. But I wouldn't have been fast enough
He began to storm towards me, those blue eyes filled with rage and violence
I ran for it, but I was too slow
He grabbed my coats hood and yanked me backward, my head hitting the floor. He crawled on top of me. His left hand still firmly gripping my coat.
"What did you see?" He spat at me
"What? What do you m-mean?" I choked
I'm not afraid to admit I was scared
Vance hopper has a reputation for extreme violence
He once sliced a kids arm open with a pocket knife, all because he knocked his pinball game.
Yes
That's where the nickname comes from

"answer me you bitch! What the fuck did you see? Why were you watching me? Are you a fucking faggot or something?"
Ouch
That hurt
Im not gay. But still, it's not a very nice word
"No, please, I was just on a walk and I heard shouting. There's a kidnapper around and I thought-

"A Fucking walk? At 2:00am? You think I buy your bullshit Yamada?"

"How do you know my name?"
I should have just shut up
He stood up fast, and grabbed my hair
I didn't cry, or scream. I just hung on for dear life
He gripped my hair and dragged me down the street, not caring wether he ripped my coat or not
I wriggled in an attempt to free myself, but he just tightened his grip.He dragged me to a small house
I had no idea where I was
He stopped at the door and let me go. He grabbed my hood and dragged me into the back garden
There was a small shed
He dragged me over to it, and opened the door. He grabbed a first aid kit and some bandages
He threw me on the floor and before I could leave he said
"Stay put. You move and I crack your skull on the pavement."
He sat on the grass in-front of me and opened the first aid kit. He unwrapped the bandages and attempted to wrap his knuckles
I don't know why, but I felt a bit braver
"You need rubbing alcohol first"
He looked up at me, a stern look on his brow
"The fuck would you know?"
"I play baseball, I've had a few cuts here and there. My dad has always said to use rubbing alcohol. It stops the wounds becoming infected"
His expression went from stern to calm
"Well then, go fucking grab it. Don't sit there like a lemon dipshit"
I quickly got up and went over to the shed. There was a lot of stuff in there. Tents, a couch chair, an old electric guitar. Seemed more like a den than a garden shed. I spotted the rubbing alcohol of the shelf and brought it over to Vance.
"Here" I put it near his free hand
"Asshole, do I look like I can grab it right now?"
He grabbed my hood and ranked me down, his hair tickling my face
"Alright Einstein, since you think your better than me, you fucking do it"
He turned to look at me. Those same blue eyes. Why were his eyes so
Beautiful
His expression changed suddenly. His cheeks tinted pink
Shit
I said that out loud
"don't try flatter me Yamada. Fix my fucking knuckles. I can't punch anyone when they look like this"
At least he didn't hit me. That's a bonus
I knelt down and grabbed his hand. He flinched slightly. I was being gentle as possible, so maybe my hand were cold?
I poured some of the alcohol on a cotton pad and dabbed his knuckles. He hissed in pain.
"Fucking watch it!" He growled
"Sorry," I mumbled "I'm being as careful as I can"
I slowly dabbed his knuckles, cleaning up the blood. He also had chips of paint from the wall in his wounds. I knew I was right to use rubbing alcohol.
I bandaged his hands and screwed the lid back on the alcohol
"All done" I say, trying not to piss Vance off
"Hm, you did a decent job," he said "you can leave now. Can't exactly punch you in the face with split knuckles"
I smile at this
I can leave without needing a doctor to fix my nose
"Thank you"