Style | Dallas Winston

Chapter Three

"But I watch your eyes as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes,"- Heather, Conan Gray

"Goddamn it Winston, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Buck yelled as soon as Dally walked in the door.

It was a Saturday night, and the bar was bustling with people. Loud drunks playing pool, pretty girls in short dresses, and obviously underage teenagers holding beers, talking with their friends.

Dally already looked like he didn't have enough time for this conversation and it was a huge burden on him to be having it. He sighed, waiting for Buck to continue.

"You took my car. I told you not to take my car, and you took my car. Honestly I don't know why I'm surprised. You always do the opposite of what everyone wants you to do," Buck said, rambling off.

"Jesus man, you sound like my old man. What makes you think you can tell me what to do?" He said, with some anger in his voice. No one ever dared to tell Dallas Winston what to do, and if someone tried, they'd end up with a bloody nose.

"Oh I don't know, maybe, because it's my car? Maybe because you live in my house? Or maybe cause I'm the one who gets you gigs at the rodeos," Buck says like it was obvious, waiting for his answer.

"Whatever man, it's not a big deal," Dally said, tossing his keys at Buck, "there's not a scratch on it. Plus I won the race."

That wasn't entirely true—while he did win the race there was a large dent where Dave rammed into them.

"It is a big deal! I don't need some fucking kid stealing and wrecking my car!" He said, nearly shouting at Dally. People close to them were starting to notice the commotion and turned to see what was going on.

Dally had finally had enough and wasn't going to take getting yelled at in front of all these people.

He stalked over to Buck getting close to his face, "And what's to say this kid doesn't knock your teeth in with everyone watching?" His eyes were black pits in the dark light, anger seething through him. You don't ever talk back to Dallas and get away with it, especially in front of people. The only reason he wasn't pummeling Buck right then was cause he would probably get kicked out, and he didn't have anywhere else to live at the moment.

There was silence for several seconds as they stared at each other before Dally finally walked off.

"Be glad I even brought it back," he said, the crowd of people moving for him. The sound of thudding on wood echoed through the quiet bar as he stalked up the stairs, heading to his room.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The shrill sound of an alarm clock woke Maeve up from her peaceful sleep. She started frantically hitting the clock to make the annoying noise stop, eventually hitting the right button, making it go silent. She sighed, not wanting to get out of the warm bundle she was currently in. After a couple seconds she literally rolled out of bed and onto the floor.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling on the cold, hardwood bedroom floor, contemplating every life choice that led her to this moment. This was a daily occurrence for her, Maeve being the opposite of a morning person, it was especially hard to make herself get out of bed since it was a Monday.

She finally got herself off the floor, with great struggle, to wake up her mom. Her mom, like her, was not a morning person and the only way that she would get up for work was if Maeve woke her up.

"Come on mom," she said, turning on the bedroom lights, "time to get up,"

A groan in protest came from her mom under the covers.