Paparazzi (The outsiders ff)

Winston

I felt Jacob watching my still form as I stared blankly at the wall. He wanted to hug me, to console me, he was too scared to do it.

I could tell.

Jacob was like a dad to me, except he was scared of me and not the other way around. Sure at times he's father like, but he's mostly just there. Hell, everyone was just there. We haven't talked and joked around as much as we used to, or acted like a real family.

I was angry, angrier than i've ever been before. I was murderous, I needed to destroy something. To set something on fire. To tear something down. To beat something up.

I got up, startling jacob.

"I'm going out."

It wasn't a question, really. It was more of a hard statement. He nodded,

"Be safe." He called as I walked out the door,

"Yeah-no." then the door shut.

I know I was being a brat, but I could care less. I would make it up to Jake later.

I went to Dino's tavern, which was a real rough hangout after dark. It was my favorite place to go when I need to blow off steam. I kicked open the door, walking in and greeting a few friends. We horsed around for a while until a friend of mine suggested we go to Bucks, to rough up a few Grease. Most agreed, so we gathered ourselves up and left after saying bye to the others who stayed. We walked over to Greaser territory  in our group, walking in the building that said BUCK'S TAVERN in big letters.

The bar wasn't like we expected, it was filled with drunk, hot, sweaty, dancing bodies. I have to say we were pretty disgusted. We pushed through the crowd, a few people stopping to look at us with disgust. Soon, the entire tavern was silent as we made our way through people. Buck gave me a sly smirk as I approached him,

"Grease." I say flatly,

"You mind if we rough up a few people 'round here?"

"I'm surprised you bothered to ask, mutt." I smirk at his response,

"But why not? go ahead, sugar." My pack turned, walking around to see who would fight who. Everyone but me seemed to have a taker, which I found dissapointing.

"Come on." I say, "No one?" Then I see a familiar blonde walking towards me,

"I'll fight you, sweetheart."

"Ah," I say, "Winston. A pleasure."

"Same." then we fought.

Most of what happened was a blur, but what I do remember clearly was feeling the Greasers hands beating my body, my knuckles spitting open, and police sirens in the distance.

I didn't regret a single minute of it.