The Aristocrat

They call it fighting the fight pt.1

Saturday 24th.

I was vaguely aware that I hadn't given Asher my number yet I'd still got the text he'd promised the night before. The address flashed on my screen as I called to Brad up front where I'd be going tonight. I said to him only the address, no extra information.

The drive was a little shorter than it was to Asher's and parked outside I looked at the crowd that run around the side of the building. Mainly people my age waited in the cold wearing excited expressions. I studied the space outside the entrance and looked for Asher. For a couple of moments, I panicked, scared that I'd presumed too quickly that I'd be going in with him.

But all panic evaporated when him and Drake rolled out of the entrance door past the ticket man who acknowledged them with a tough nod. Both of the boys wore plain outfits, Drake in a grey band tee and Asher in a baggy black hoodie. I thanked myself for the simple choice of some ripped jeans and white top, I'd blend in well.

Drake's head was thrown back mid laugh and an entertained grin nestled on Ash's lips. I hoped that that meant he'd be in a good mood tonight but I'd never place bets when it came to him.

Brad, having grown accustomed to me dodgy exits, said a small goodbye as I slid of the car seat getting out of the backseat into the fresh air. I waited for the limo to drive off before I made me way across the car park, gaze fixed on the floor.

Drake saw me first. He called my name above the voices of the crowd and crossed the distance to meet me half way. His arm was thrown around my neck and he yanked me into him for a quick hug. I hadn't known that we were that comfortable with each other yet but hugged him back anyway, if anything pleased to have gotten such a warm welcome.

Less could be said for Asher. He made no attempt to move let alone acknowledge me yet. He had twisted around to speak to the same guy checking the tickets. They chatted anonymously between themselves as the other man took and punched the thin sheets of cardboard.

"I'm so pumped you're here," Drake said to me as we stood in the middle of the car park. He paced in front of me and I faced the way of the entrance sneaking looks at Asher over Drake's shoulder.

"Really?" I laughed with a surprised smile. 

"Course," Drake grinned as if obvious "Any friend of Ash's is a friend of mine. We had a good time yesterday."

"Yeah, I did too," I said "But I wouldn't go as far to say that Ash and I are friends."

Drake spun round on his heels, his arm smoothly running over my shoulders as he guided us towards Asher, "I get it, don't worry."

I frowned and twisted my head up at an angle to see him more, "You do?"

"Yeah," Drake said reassuringly before one side of his lips tipped up and he smirked down at me "See you met me and liked me so much more than that boring arse."

"You're annoying," I bit back jokingly. I was learning that is was a hard thing no to fit in around someone like Drake. He was so laid back, so not like Asher.

"Eh," Drake shrugged the smug grin still stuck to his lips "I know."

As we got closer Ash's conversation with the guy stopped and he turned to notice us. With little expression, he looked at me, eyes blazing under the buildings illuminated sign. Shaking the other man's hand finally, he stepped away as we approached him.

"Andra," He said, his voice tone and the polar-opposite to Drakes. I stepped up onto the pavement in front of him and tipped my head up in his direction.

"Ash," I uttered his name, the tiniest forced smile settling on the tips of my bare lips.

Beside us Drake watched on with vivid amusement, a deep-rooted laugh rumbled up his throat and he used two hands to shake both mine and Ash's shoulders, "You guys need to chill man."