The First Rule

Chapter 2b: Rule #9

Fuck Liam. Screw Tyler. I hate this life.

You're wondering what's with Ty's over dramatic reaction? Oh let me indulge you. Starting with the rule I regret I've ever agreed on.

Now you're in an empty classroom, chairs and tables stacked on each other in the corners. For the look of it, this must've been abandoned for a long time—but that's not what makes this room eerie. You notice a chair in the center with someone sitting on it. Their hands aren't bondaged, but still, the person sits there in obedience—no, more with fear. Face stricken with panic, feet tapping on the floor in anxiety, sweat trickling down his temple..

Your date for this weekend.

Rule #9: Every potential SO must go through a screening—*sigh* interrogation, process.

From the darkest corner of the room, a silhouette surfaces, holding a wood baseball bat over his shoulder. A baseball bat you. know. so well. As he strides through the room, he slams the bat on the floor, dragging it, making an unpleasant screeching sound. Two more shadows follow him from behind, their blonde hairs glinting in the sunlight. Getting near to the chair, a deep voice emerge between the deafening silence,

"Well, well, well."

It's Tyler.

His lips form a sinister smile and he plays his baseball bat rhythmically onto the ground, roaring, "You heard the rumors, but you still do it anyway—you must've had pair of balls made of steel, huh?"

Your date—your poor date still keeps an upright posture. However, you can see his hands tremble as he swiftly hides them between his thighs. The three of them walk in arrogance and elegance. If you're not so annoyed maybe you'd call them the Angel of Death, but the nickname might be too noble for them.

They finally arrive in front of your date. Tyler tilts his head to the side, eyeing him head to toe with mocking eyes. He slams the maple wood bat on the ground—to have it bounced back to his hand in a spin. Using the trick you knew all too well. But instead of stopping, he slams it again to the porcelain floors, letting it bounce back, catching it, and spinning it. He spin.. and spin.. and spin—each spin getting closer to your date—and when he finally catches the bat—

SLAM!

Before swinging the bat to land on the floor just a millimeter from his groin. You jump at the sound, face painted in concern as you let out a desperate shout. The other two broke off into cheers, proud of their friend, but as for your date..

Eyes goggle in shock, your date ends up fainted in his chair.

"Geez! Do you have to?!" you hurriedly run to your date as the boys throw their heads in the air, disappointed. Pushing them out of the way, you kneel in front of the chair. "Nate—Nate! Wake up!" you worry, slapping your date's cheek, trying to wake him up. You rack your brain on how to apologize to Nate when he wakes up—how to keep a secret from anyone so you can go on a rescheduled date with him—

"Guess your date's canceled," Tyler rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

Liam agrees and joins, "Haven't even got to interrogate—"

Before you kick your foot to the floor, confronting them. You glare at them one by one with fire blazing in your eyes. First to pursed-lipped Liam, then to Dom as he raises his hands and claims, "I'm just here for the fun part," as you roll your eyes, and lastly.. to grinning.. very-satisfied-with-your-reaction Tyler.