Inner Revelations

Chapter 2

*Not edited*

Treyson's  POV

After those wonderful seven hours of education, I climb onto my Harley Davison (like a boss may I add) - its more beautiful than any of the trashy girls at school. I speed down motorways, getting honked at by cars as I fly past them.

I pull up to my driveway and cut the engine, then unlock the door to my house. "MUM!" I yelled, only to hear the echo of my voice. Typical, but you can't blame a guy for trying.

Just then my ringtone blasts off Sorry by Justin Bieber; oi don't be a hater! Its Gavin, I can't help but roll my eyes. He's my best friend, but god, he annoys the shit out of me sometimes.

"Y'alright" I said with little enthusiasm.

"Are you coming out to McKellar's party later?" He enquires.

" For fucks sake dude I just walked through the bloody door and you expect me to go out again!"

"Of course mate, its gonna be live! See you at six!" He cuts the line before I can even reply.

Well, guess I'm going out then.

                             ***

I try and make my way through the sea of sweaty bodies, the stench of alcohol and marijuana capturing my senses.

Just then a large sweaty hand patted my shoulder roughly and out of reflex I balled my fist and punched whoever square in the nose.

"Ah shit that hurt like a bitch." A manly voice grunted.

I couldn't exactly see who it was as it was quite dark, with only a few neon lights shining in different places.

"Trey dude, what the hell man."

I looked down slowly recognising that voice..."McKellar?!" I practically yelled. He slowly rose from the ground and I offered him a hand. When I caught sight of his nose I thought, 'woah I swear it wasn't that crooked before.'

"I bet, thanks for the nice piece of artwork on my face."

Oh I said that out loud.

"Anytime." I replied causally

He gave me a hard glare and if looks could kill, I would be 6 ft under.

After that incident, I gave up looking for Gavin, knowing him he would probably be passed out in a dustbin; he has a thing for dustbins. He's a strange guy.

After what feels like hours of non-stop dancing, I walk over to the bar to get a well earned drink. The bartender was some scrawny boy who looked no older than 19, with a height of around 5ft10. He had disheveled brown hair, probably trying to give it that messy look. No thanks that's my look. I ask him to give me the strongest drink he's ogot.

When he puts the glass down in front of me, I don't hesitate and swiftly pick it up downing the whole lot. I feel the effects already taking a turn. As I am about to ask for a re-fill when I feel fingers crawling up my shoulder onto my neck. All I can say is this ain't gunna end well for the person on the other end. Just when I was about to ball up my fists a screechy voice fills my ears and it literally deafens me; my ears are ringing like someone put a bloody bell in them.