Daniella
Michael sits slumped over his glass in the seat next to me, already on his fifth drink before I have even finished my first.
This whole thing is crushing him from the inside out. First he is arrested and has to spend hours upon hours being interrogated and now his step-father is in custody after a decade and a half of being on the run since the brutal murder of his entire family.
It has been an eventful few days for him. I just wish there was something I could do to help him.
"Excuse me?" A hand is placed on my shoulder. I turn to my right side to face him. "I see your drink is a little low. Can I buy you another?" He sits down next to me.
"Oh, no thank you." I place my hand closer to Michael's "I am actually here with-" he stops me as I speak over the music.
"That wasn't really a request. I was just asking to be polite. I'm buying you a drink." He smiles and raises his hand for the bartender. "A drink for the pretty lady."
I shake my head. That was a bad idea. Michael is already on edge. I am sure this is going to make him so happy. The fact that he has a half dozen drinks in his does not help his anger problem either.
"I don't think that's such a good idea." I warn him, pushing the drink away from me as the bartender sets it down in front of me. "Thank you though."
"Why not? A pretty lady should never have to buy her own drinks." He laughs and leans towards me.
"I'm not really-"
"She's not buying her own drinks." Michael stands and towers over the man. He stands and looks Michael in the eye, glaring at him.
"Now, how did a pretty lady like that end up with a scum bag like you?" He asks, shaking his head slightly.
"She has a name. She's not an object to claim."
He whistles. "Boy, the things I would do to that hot body-" before he can finish, Michael has his hands on him. He shoves him back in to the wall and quickly punches at his jaw, his hands moving so fast I can not keep track.
I take the final sip of my drink and finish off Michael's before ripping him off of the man. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone's confidence, right?
"Stop it!" I shout, grabbing his arm and yanking him towards the door. "Let's get out of here."
I pull him through the people and open the door, nearly shoving him out once it is open wide enough for a body to fit through.
Michael falls over on the ground, unconscious.
Well what am I supposed to do now?! I can't exactly carry him. But I can't just leave him here either. I am metaphorically stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"Why does this always happen to me?" I ask out loud. It seems as if the entire universe is against me in this moment. What did I do to deserve this?
I bend down and grab his arms, ready to drag him along the pavement to the car.
Why did I have to let him get drunk in the first place?
I stumble forward, laughing as my hands connect with the pavement. I watch as blood slowly oozes down my palms, giggling to myself.
I turn back to Michael, poking him until he sits up and smiles at me, drool dripping down his face. "Lets go do something fun!" I suggest.
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Disconnected
FanfictionIn which a beautiful model is hired to help a band's image by pretending to be dating one of them.