Bridge Jump (rewrite)

Chapter Two: Fights

Austin sighed as he walked into his grandparent's restaurant. He just waved off his grandparents' shouts at him. He muttered a fast reply in Italian tackling the dishes that were starting to pile up. He didn't dare tell them that he was in jail for two weeks because he couldn't afford bail on a case of self-defense. He rubbed his arm against his forehead, he needed a smoke. He could feel the headache building, He quickly finished up the dishes switching aprons, scrubbing down his hands and moving to the stoves to help with the in coming orders. This was the busiest time for them, the right before winter. He quickly plated a calzone and rung it out to be served moving around his grandfather helping him, taking out a pizza that was ready. They basically ran around the kitchen keeping up with the lunch rush, finally able to kind of relax around three. Austin leaned against the counter eating a bowl of pasta, watching the few people who were in. His eyes flicked to the door as two large mean walked in, he instantly recognized them. They walked up to him, sliding up their shades.

"What? You don't answer your phone no more?" the man asked him "You got a fight, Chinatown, midnight."

With that, they made their way out. Austin scoffed mumbling under his breath. "Cheapo, can't even order something."

He heard his grandmother call from him to get back to the kitchen, He sighed tying back his apron and washing his hands before pushing back into the kitchen.

After Austin's shift, he found himself waiting for his little gang outside of where the fight was being held. It was some dojo in china town that some big wigs were in hopes of exciting their boring lives. He had check everything with his sister to insure she wasn't home with their father. He took a long drag of his cancer stick, letting the smoke warm his lungs. His hands were already wrapped in hopes of lessening the painful impact. Once he saw the boys, he pulled his hood over his head, and walked inside. He dropped the jacked in the arms of one guy, and his fine gold chain in the hand of another. Following with handing them him wallet, phone, and keys. He was ready to fight. He glanced over at his opponent. Some Asian guy, most likely highly trained in some form of martial arts. He didn't pretend to know who he was, what he could do, all he needed to know was one wrong move and this guy could ruin him, physically and financially. He found himself ignoring his 'friends' attempt to hype him up. He didn't need it, He was already angry. He was angry that he was out here fighting for pots worth hundreds of thousands, yet he only got roughly a grand, because of his father's debts to a certain Italian. He was angry that he didn't have any one to talk to, that his days and nights tend to all merge into one, that he can't sleep afraid something will happen the second he closes his eyes. He was angry at himself, and that anger was fueling him up. He was shaking, he was jittery, his vein was coursing, his skin hot. He was ready to fight.

He was bleeding, He was also pretty sure he had dislocated a rib, and he arms, and legs were beginning to feel heavy. He should've listened to his friends, He should've shot up adrenaline. His opponent showed no signs of tiring. He was still throwing weighted punch after punch. Austin finally dived in, wrapping his arms around his opponent's torso and lifting him up before slamming him to the ground. He took the opportunity of his opponent being stunned to strike. Two punches to the face followed by one to the body, the fight was over. Austin standing the winner, the crowd was silent, shock on their face.

Austin found himself back on the bridge overlooking the city, it was some time in the morning, the sky kissed with a soft lavender-pink hue. Like always, he had a cigarette between his lips. He needed more than nicotine for that night. He glanced at the girl who always seemed to be there, he could hear her cry. He had to stop himself from walking to her, asking what's wrong. He knew this city, everyone kept to themselves, no one wanted to be bothered. He wondered if what he was doing was right, he wanted so badly to talk to her, to figure out what was wrong, to help her. But, how could he? Where would he even start? He could barely help himself. With a soft groan of pain, he pushed off from the railing walking back to his car, throwing the stub over into the river below. He needed far more than a few drinks. He needed to get laid. He climbed into his car, starting it and pulling off to the closest bar, the only bar he truly went to. He saddled up to the bar stools dropping into one of them, hailing a bartender for a drink, laughing dryly for him to make it doubles. Due to it being 4am it was cash only, not that he cared. He slapped down two hundred dollars telling him to just keep pouring til the money ran dry. An hour or so later a woman walks up to him, twirling her hair on her finger.

"what happened?" she asked pointing to his face.

"a fight." Was all Austin replied before taking a sip of his drink.

"that's like hot." She giggled, Austin winced only slightly. This woman was beginning to give him a headache.

"how old are you?" he asked resting his head in his hand. "20." She giggled back, biting her lip. "Why?"

"What do you say we get out here?" Austin suggested, no less than thirty minutes later he found himself stumbling around in the dark of her apartment. His lips moving aggressively against hers. He needed this, this was therapeutic for him. He let her hands wander all over him, as she did the same. It was animalistic the way he was acting, begging for nothing, taking what he wanted. And she loved it, soaked in every ounce of him, her moans and begs for him to continue egging him on. He didn't know what had gotten into him, maybe it was the fact that it had been a while since he's last had sex, maybe it was the need for that release, or having some form of control in a world that he had no control of anything.

He found himself pulling at her, roughly breathing over her, taking her body as his. She was his in that time. He could hear the banging of the headboard against the wall, probably upsetting her roommates, not that he cared. He was looking for release. He could feel it, his breathing becoming even more labored, his groans and grunts louder, his muscles beginning to constrict. Quickly he pulled out, roughing jacking himself before ejaculating over the stomach and chest of the woman beneath him. His used his arms to support himself from collapsing on her. His head beginning to ring slightly. He didn't listen to what the young woman was saying as he lazily began to kiss her, paying attention to her body language. He pulled back asking, "Another round?"

When the girl didn't reply he pushed himself off sitting back on his heels looking down at her. She opened her eyes looking at him confused, "why did you stop?"

He suddenly realized he didn't want this anymore. He pulled himself off the bed, pulling on his clothes. The girl scrambled off the bed wrapping the sheets around herself following him as she walked out of the room, pulling on his pants and tugging down his shirt. He quickly checked making sure he had his phone and wallet. He ran a hand through his hair turning to the girl chasing him.

"Look I'm sorry, I just I can't." Austin sighed raising his hand to put space between them. "It was great, I just need to get back home."

He left before she could even reply walking out, rummaging though his pockets pulling out his pack of cigarettes pulling one out and lighting it up. He found himself once again at the bridge, smoking his sixth cig. The cool wind cooling his hot skin. He glanced over at the spot that the girl usually stood. It was empty, not that it surprised him, the sun was almost at full height, it had to be around 7am.