The Prince is Having a Ball

Part 11

Part 11

GABRIEL:

I try. I seriously, seriously try. But how can I not say anything? The situation is awful at best, completely and totally dangerous at worst. I have to say something. This can NOT continue.

"Dude. DUDE!" I yell as loud as I can over the music.

The guy turns toward me, his head still bobbing back and forth like a chicken. He thinks he looks rad though. "What?!"

"Mesh shirt? No. Just no. Do yourself a favor and leave. Then take that shirt and burn it. Don't forget the lighter fluid."

Am I the nicest? No. But I consider that a public service. If no one else is going to tell the guy he looks like shit, at least I will. He's hurting not only my soul, but the eyes of everyone who is unfortunate enough to cast their gaze in his direction.

"What the fuck did you just say to me, man?" The guy gets in my face and I sigh. Some people won't help themselves unless they've hit rock bottom. That mesh though....How is that not rock bottom?

I point at his shirt then mime pulling it off, crinkling it into a ball, and then it exploding. I even give him sound effects, because I'm a giver. I can't help it. I'm just an honest-to-God humanitarian.

And because this guy obviously hates puppies and kittens and worships fishnet, he shoves me backward.

I hold up my hands in front of me. It's a gesture of peace, yes, but it also gets my arms up and ready to open up a can of whoop-ass if I have to.

"You got a fucking problem? What's up?!" A little spittle flies out of his mouth as he shouts at me and I can't help but cringe. Gross.

"Yes. Obviously. The mesh. I feel like a broken record!" Then the guy's swinging at me--and I swear it's like in slow motion. I train with Nathan fucking Griffin. This guy is lethargic in comparison.

I thrust my arm out and deflect his blow, gripping his wrist as it flies past me. I direct his momentum and flip him around, pulling his wrist in just the right angle to make him terrified to move because he just might lose his hand.

"Get off me, man!" He shouts.

"Say you're sorry."

"Fuck you!" Wrong answer. I increase the pressure on his wrist.

"Fine! Sorry!"

I don't release him yet. "Now promise you'll burn the shirt."

"I'll burn the shirt!"

Instantly I let him go, and he whips around like he's gonna try to hit me again. "Seriously? Round two?"

"What's up, D? You good?" A really tall and thin guy swaggers over with a girl tucked under his arm, talking to Mesh guy.

And fuck a duck, that girl is not just a girl--that's my girl.

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Yes, this part was shorter than I think you guys wanted, but I figured something was better than nothing. Would you prefer longer parts that take longer, or shorter parts at a more frequent pace? I honestly don't know what I'd prefer... Help!

And ruh-roh! Gabey got in a tussle! I always picture Gabe as sassy but also a take-no-crap badass. He's no weakling. I like him as a fighter. Who also has impeccable fashion sense ;)

Thoughts?

Thanks for reading, lovers!! :):)