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ii.
His hair was pushed back by an American flag bandana. His torso was covered by a black t-shirt, the sleeves rolled a few times, revealing more of his toned biceps. His legs were clad in skinny, black jeans that had a hole in both knees. He ran his hands over his thighs multiple times, licking his lips. It was almost midnight, and instead of being in bed, he was in a strip club, ready to toss the money he just earned. His backpack was next to his feet, and he chuckled when his friend, Liam, cracked a joke. It had been a while since he's been here. He missed it.
He placed a dollar bill in a beauty's panties, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. He let his eyes drop in a wink. The Mexican girl thanked him, then continued dancing her sexy body on the silver pole. He was amazed at how they manipulated their body against poles. It was damn right sexy to him. The sweat glistening on their body as the twirled in heels so fucking high around an inanimate object.
"Damn, bet you're proud to be an American now, Harry." Liam teased, referring to the bandana wrapped around his head.
"That was a fucking terrible joke." Nonetheless, Harry laughed. He glanced to his friend, seeing someone very familiar in his peripheral vision. He fixated his eyesight to the blonde who's hands were up in triump as a girl with a large bum twerked against his lap. He recognized the look of cockiness. It nearly made him laugh.
He got up, long legs briskly walking up the bastard. He watched as his face fell, as well as his arms. He pushed the girl away, her face almost landing on the tiled floor. "S–Styles. What are you, uh, doing here?" He stammered.
"Same thing as you, apparently." He chuckled, humorlessly. "One huge difference is I don't have a girlfriend. Does she know you're here, by the way?" He didn't really care. He just enjoyed the fear excreting from Kyle's pores.
"What? Oh, uh, no..." He trailed, awkwardly. "But you won't tell her." He said, warningly. He stood from his seat, hands clenching into fist. He didn't scare Harry one bit.
He glanced at his hands. "Put those away, son, before you hurt yourself."
At the nickname, Kyle suddenly launched toward Harry. His fist came in contact with his jaw, making Harry's face turn to the right. He spat the blood from his mouth, now angry. He looked Kyle up and down, unimpressed. "Oh, so now you're Mr. Tough Guy? What happened to a few weeks ago, huh? Might want to dial your girl's number again in case you need another ride home."
Kyle went to punch Harry again, but Harry's hand caught his fist before it could touch him. He strategically bent his arm behind his back, dragging him out the club. Kyle cried the whole time. As soon as the cold air hit them, Harry pushed him into the concrete. "You're a fucking coward, you know that?" He jeered. "You wanna fucking fight then get your lazy ass up and fight!"
Kyle breathed heavily, picking himself up. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but that didn't stop him from throwing another weak punch. Harry easily dodged it, and in the background, he could hear Liam howling cheers. It caused him to smirk, and punch Kyle hard in the eye.
"Fuck him up, Harry! Yes! Show that man who's boss!" Liam yelled, pretending to dodge invisible jabs. A crowd started surrounding the two. "That's my best friend!"
Kyle was now struggling to fight back, his eyes barely open. Harry continued beating his ass, though, wanting to teach his a lesson. When Kyle's skinny body hit the floor, Harry finally stopped. His harsh breathing was now the only sound in the cold night. The crowd had now dispersed and Liam's hand fell onto his shoulder.
"That was amazing." He yelled, shaking Harry. Harry merely laughed, agreeing. He knelt down and felt his pockets, searching for Kyle's phone. He pulled it out and unlocked it since there was no passcode on it. He mumbled 'dumbass' and looked for his girlfriend's name. He found it under 'baby' with a heart emoji. He waited for her to pick up, hearing it ring on speaker.
"Hey, babe. How was the movies?"
He laughed, "It was good, baby. Now, tell me, whatcha' wearing for me?"
"What the hell? Who is this!" She exclaimed through the static line.
"It's Styles. Your boyfriend's passed out at Jerry's Gurlz." He said, getting straight to point.
"Jerry's Gurlz? Isn't that a..."
"Strip club? Ding, ding, ding!" He mocked a bell, sarcastically. "Hurry up before the birds think he's dinner." He hung up, tossing the phone on the floor. It cracked against the pavement. He grabbed his backpack from Liam, throwing it over his shoulder.
"Let's go, Liam."
She couldn't help her own heart from beating savagely in her chest. Her hands shook as she turned left, then right, the left again... all she could think about was Kyle and how he lied to her. And then about Styles and how crude he was. It irritated her how he spoke with so much indifference.
She stopped her car when she arrived at the front of a very crowded Jerry's Gurlz. The grip she had on her steering wheel was so tight, her knuckles became as white as the very expensive car she drove.
Michael pulled up behind her, hand going to her waist. "Calm down, Arizona. I'm sure there's a logical explanation as to why Kyle's here."
"Yeah, the explanation is that he's a lying, cheating little–" She cut herself off with a big sigh. She couldn't believe all these years, him "going to the movies" was him actually going to strip clubs–and probably worse things she didn't even know about.
"Don't assume." Michael scolded with a blank face. "Now let's go. Little bro probably freezing his balls off right now."
She walked behind him, cautiously. She could see the shirtless women through the tinted window. She was jealous. The were barely dressed and moved so effortlessly, and looked sexy! Some had makeup covering their features, and some were natural, having only the sweat on their face from the intense stage lights. Women with thick and skinny thighs, slimmed and pudgy waists, long and short hair... all looking so beautiful...
She frowned when she glanced down at her appearance. Her blue blouse was tucked into a tight pair of dress pants. It was covered by a large trench coat. She even had mittens on her hands, unlike most people who passed by her. She removed her mittens and shoved them deep in the pockets of her coat. Her hands immediately shook from the cold.
"Fucking help me, Arizona!" Michael groaned, stuggling to walk straight with all of Kyle's weight on half his body. She ran to him, and grabbed ahold of his left side.
As she drove home, her mind filled with countless thoughts of that Styles guy. Why did he fight him again? Had Kyle provoked him? Was this always going to happen between the two? What was Styles doing now? Was he fighting another bloke in the cold streets for the second time tonight?
