Chapter 9: The Fight

I once had a fight that I will never forget. Matt and Christian, two of my athlete friends, were with me. Matt was on the basketball squad as a point guard, while Christian was on the Taekwondo team. We were playing billiards in a bar just a few blocks from school. We planned to play after the quarterly examinations were finished so that we might have a wonderful time and temporarily forget about our midterm exams. It was after midnight, and the bar was crowded and smelling of beer and smoke. The bar's walls were painted a brilliant red color. The sofas were orange in color. The bar stools had a faint orange color to them. Turquoise carpets were used.

Honey, the beautiful female barista who was our friend Edward's girlfriend, was making and serving alcoholic beverages to the customers. The bar had a sufficient number of patrons. Because we were acquainted with her boyfriend, my friends and I paid for our drinks, and she gave them to us even though we were minors. We thanked Honey. "No problem, boys," she said quietly to us.

As he waited for his turn to play, Christian smoked a cigarette, while Matt had one attractive girl on each big arm. I was the one who hit the first ball.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Matt asked.

"Are you referring to Daphne?" I told him. "She's not my girlfriend.” He hit the second ball. I continued, "She's not interested in billiards; therefore, she didn't come with me."

"You know, she's incredibly attractive," Matt said. Christian attempted but failed to hit the third ball. It was my turn once more. "If she dresses up, she'll look like a total babe," Matt said, and I couldn't understand why he would say such things with all those girls there. Was he trying to turn all of those lovely girls green with jealousy?

"I know she's beautiful," I quickly agreed.

"I also know you like her. Why don't you approach her and ask her out?” He told me.

We continued to play.

"It's not as simple as that." I told him straight up, "She likes another guy.” This made me bitter but I tried to hide my emotion, especially from guys like Matt. I didn’t trust guys like Matt. There was something off about him; he seemed like the guy who would take advantage of a girl’s weakness.

Matt snickered, "Oh, that's a bummer." I gave a shaky smile.

Then he said the most heinous thing I'd ever heard, and I couldn't forgive him. "If I were you, I'd invite her to my house, buy her a drink, and make sure she's inebriated to the point of immobility. Then I'd drag her into my room, where we'd fuck in the dark."

I paused my game and punched Matt in the face. His face had been damaged. Matt beat me up with his punches and kicks till I saw stars since he was stronger than me. "You motherfucker!" Matt exclaimed as Christian and others from the bar tried to stop us from injuring one other. “You're probably gay, thus you won't be able to do it!”

"You're a knucklehead! You have no respect for women. Daphne is one of my closest friends.”

Matt threw up on the floor. He was being spoken to by his girlfriends (or whatever they were).

The blonde girl said, "Please calm down, Matt. It's not a smart idea to cause a ruckus here."

Matt scoffed, "Make a scene? Alex was the one who struck me first."

"Even so," Blonde Girl cautioned, "you shouldn't have punched him back."

Blonde Girl was yelled at by Matt. “Isn't it true that you're a complete moron? How can I not punch someone who has already punched me?”

Brunette Girl responded, "You're the one who's stupid! That guy named Alex hit you because you made filthy remarks about his female friend! Who is the knucklehead now?”

Blonde Girl admonished her, "That's enough, Cristine. Our customer will become enraged."

"Amy, I don’t care if he’s angry. You do not deserve to be called a ‘moron.’ Guys who are rude to my sister will not be tolerated by me! Just because we're call girls doesn't mean we should be abused this way," Amy said quietly.

"Especially because you did not do or say anything wrong to the guy," she added in a calm tone.

"Your breath stinks, by the way!" Amy exclaimed loudly to the entire bar as she described Matt. "You're so fortunate that we consented to spend time with you despite your ugliness. Yes, that's correct. Because you had money, we agreed. We do, however, have some dignity despite our job. We've decided to leave rather than join you because you've been rude to us. You should realize that we're people too.”

The attractive ladies walked out of the bar. "So you hired call girls to accompany you. How pitiful you are," I told Matt and snickered and walked away.

I went outside and walked up to the girls. I tapped Cristine’s shoulder. “Yes?” She said, "Wait, you're Alex, right?" she asked, her face beaming.

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Listen, what you did back there was a risky act, and I admire how much you care for your lovely sister."

"Are you looking for a good time?" Amy flirtatiously questioned as she twirled her hair.

I apologized, "Erm, no, I'm sorry." She appeared dissatisfied.

"So, what are your intentions with us?" Amy asked right away.

"I don't want you to leave without anything. Is a total of fifteen thousand dollars per person acceptable to you?" I replied to them. Their eyes gleamed.

“Yes!” They screamed in unison. I handed over the cash.

They passionately thanked me and kissed me on the lips. They then walked away after saying their goodbyes to me. We went in opposite directions.

Christian and I decided to go to a different bar. His friend's uncle owns this establishment. As a result, despite the fact that we were minors, they provided us alcoholic beverages. The walls of the pub were painted a forest green color. Rose gold was used on the sofas and lounges. The navy-blue bar stools are a nice touch. The carpets were a vibrant orange color. We were sipping vodka and absinthe at a front bar. The beverages were served by a lovely American woman. A sultry and attractive exotic dancer performed on stage, dressed in a black leather crop top, a black leather short skirt with a golden zipper in front, fishnet stockings to highlight her gleaming long legs, and leather black shoes.

Her hair was dark brown. She had high pigtails, black lipstick, and black smoky eyes. She was wearing silver hoop earrings. She had a good sense of self-awareness and how to carry herself and her body. Dance versions of rock and roll tunes were playing in the bar. Her dancing and stares were seductive, and she was really lovely. After her lovely, seductive dance by the pole, I'm sure many customers would ask her out. We gave her a round of applause when she finished dancing. Some of the men made wolf-whistles and catcalls. But I was relieved that she had not been harmed.

After a sip of absinthe, Christian snickered, "You truly shocked Matt!"

"He's a moron." I told him, "He also has a bad attitude."

Christian responded, "Actually, he deserves to be thrashed like that."

"Do you truly believe that?" I asked, raising my brow.

"Imagine if he thought like that, probably owing to his ugliness and raw strength, I'm sure he'd truly do it to the woman," Christian agreed. "So all you have to do is punch him to wake him up and give him a lesson." He continued drinking.

I said, "You have a point there. "I was furious because what he said about Daphne was so disgusting. She's my best friend," I said, looking down at the table.

Christian's question to me was, "Is she really just a best friend or are you in love with her?”

"Of course, she's my best friend!" I exclaimed exasperatedly.

Christian teased me, "Oh, why are you angry?" but I was too intoxicated to notice.

"I'm not upset," I said as calmly as I could.

With a wave of his hands, Christian said, "Relax, dude, I'm only joking."

"Ahh," I grumbled. I took a gulp of vodka. I placed a second order of vodka.

"But seriously," Christian added, "Daphne was beautiful."

"Yeah?" I asked. “And?”

"Have you ever had feelings for her or something?" Christian asked.

I couldn't really respond to his question, so I just said, "Do you fall in love with a friend just because she's beautiful?"

"Of course not!" Christian said calmly.

"Then that's my response," I said.

“Really? Is that it?" Christian was surprised. I drank the last of the vodka. I placed another order and drank it while we conversed.

I nodded, "Yup. Daphne is just a friend whether I like it or not." I slurred my words.

“Whether you like it or not? I don’t get it. So you like her or not?” He kept pressing for answers.

I tried to avoid answering the question as much as possible. To be honest, I loved Daphne a lot. However, I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship.

"Did you see the stunning and seductive young lady dancing on the stage?" I asked Christian.

He cocked his head to the side and said, "Yeah. What about her?"

"I find her appealing. Is that to say I'm already head over heels in love with her?” I asked him.

Christian said, "Erm, no." He stopped asking me questions. I laughed. He smiled.

I stood up from my seat. Christian asked, "Where are you going?" I didn't respond to his question. I walked right close to the beautiful exotic dancer.

"Hiya," the beautiful lady remarked with a wink.

I greeted her with a simple, "Hello."

"My name is Renee," she said as she extended her hand to me.

"My name is Alex Pierce," we said as we clasped hands.

She praised me on my name, saying, "What a kickass name." Really? Was that all she could think of? Did she really think that would make me seem good?

I returned the compliment by saying, "Your name is great, too."

"Thank you," she said, smiling sweetly. "How did you and your companion end up here? Is it a girl problem?”

"All we wanted to do was have a nice time," I replied to her question.

"You have a handsome face. Despite the fact that you have bruises. She said to me, “I'm sure you look a lot more handsome without those."

"I appreciate it. You have a beautiful face and a nice figure,” I told her.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" She asked, her hazel eyes seductively glancing at me.

"No," I answered.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" She asked me naughtily.

"No," I said.

We danced to the remixes of the 2010’s popular music hits. The music became more energetic, and the atmosphere became more dynamic. The music was a mix of popular pop and punk rock. Renee's body swayed and flowed in such a beautiful way. She was a really good dancer.

"Have you ever considered entering a dancing competition?" I asked, my brows knotted together.

"Yeah, I did," she said with a wide smile and a nod. "However, I believe I failed the audition." She was disappointed for a moment, but she tried to cover her disappointment with a feeble grin.

“What? You've got to be kidding, right? You are a truly gifted dancer," I said, amazed.

"Well, they haven't contacted me. I mean, the individuals who organized the dance competition," she replied, her eyes serious. I could see her emotions now as I gazed into her eyes. Her exasperation and sadness were seen in her eyes. Despite her best efforts to disguise her emotions behind a big smile.

"I'm just curious, what kind of dancing competition did you audition for?" " As I moved my hands and hips, I asked her.

"It's an audition for a girl dance group," she said, shaking her hips in a flirty and enthusiastic manner. It's incredible how she could dance and converse at the same time. She never ran out of breath while doing both of these activities at the same time.

"Is it difficult to be a member of a female dancing group? What are their requirements?" I wondered. I tried my hardest to keep up with her zeal. However, I occasionally ran out of breath.

She started doing hip-hop dances to hip-hop music. She was seductive and ferocious. Her actions were both cool and wild. It seemed as though I were watching a music video for a well-known song. I did some simple dance motions. She had a lot of smiles on her face. "Well, they were searching for female dancers for a noontime show," she said, “These dancers need a pleasing personality, which was only a euphemism for good looks."

"Well, you definitely have those!" I nodded, danced, and snapped my fingers. You are pretty. I wouldn't be dancing with you just to chat to you if you were ugly."

"I know," she added, laughing with a "hehe."

"And what else were they looking for?" I persisted in my questioning.

She replied, "Of course, the girl must have a waistline of less than twenty-five inches."

“Ugh. That's a little too slim. If it's acceptable to ask, what’s your waistline?” I asked her. She replied, "twenty inches." It was obvious to me! She had a very slim figure.

"And then what is their other stipulation?" I carried on with the talk. “Apart from being a great dancer and being slim?"

She brushed my arm with her slim, delicate porcelain hand. "They required someone over the age of eighteen."

"Can you tell me how old you are?" I furrowed my brows.

She whispered in my ear, "Sixteen."

"You should be grateful that they didn't pass you," I exclaimed, startled.

“Why?" she asked. She appeared perplexed.

"They included the age restriction so that no one would sue if the men exploited anyone.” I told her. I asked her, “Did you tell the truth about your age?” Despite the fact that we barely knew each other, I was concerned.

"No, I did not," she stated flatly.

In a matter-of-fact tone, she added, "Wow, you act as if you're older than me. I know you're maybe three or four years younger than me," she whispered. I'm not sure why they let you and your friend into this establishment, let alone allow you to drink alcohol."

"Well, one of my friends, Christian, has a buddy named Paulo. This property is owned by Paulo's uncle. But don't tell anyone," I whispered into Renee’s ear.

She nodded and grinned. "It's no problem. I'll keep your secrets safe."

"I appreciate it. You know what? I wish you luck in your ambitions.” I smiled back at her.

"I appreciate it. She replied in a sultry tone, winking at me and my friend, "You're such a sweetheart."

I returned to our table and sat on my chair.

Christian asked, "How was your chat with that exotic dancer?"

"It's all right," I answered.

"Did you say something about Daphne?” He teased me. He smiled.

"Of course not!" I said, "That's the worst way to entertain a girl.”

Christian replied, "All right, Casanova."

"No, I mean, such a tactic only works for women," I continued.

"What technique?” Christian asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, you know? When a girl tells a guy about an ex or someone who recently dumped them, it's almost as if they're saying to him, ‘I’m sad. Please help me to feel better. Date me. Or you can sleep with me.’”

"Do you mean those girls are attempting to make you pity them so they can date and/or sleep with you, no matter how attractive they are?" Christian asked, a perplexed expression on his face.

“Yes! " I exclaimed loudly. Christian drank all of his absinthe. "Oh, don't tell me you finished that just now?" I asked him. I was the one who was surprised this time.

"It's because I was having a great time watching you and the girl dance," Christian revealed.

"You're insane!" I joked to him. He burst out laughing. "However, what is the name of the lovely lady?"

"She said it was Renee," I said. “And she looks like a Renee. During the night, she had a wild side, yet during the day, she was sophisticated, intellectual, and traditional. Almost like a college type. You know, the one who works hard in school and parties harder in the bar? The student who excels academically while also knowing how to have a good time? She appears to be that type of girl."

"Wow, that's really cool. She appears to have piqued your curiosity. Have you gotten her phone number?” Christian told me.

"Yes, I did," I admitted to him. "She handed it on to me without my asking."

“What? Oh well, you're a good-looking guy," he said, surprised. “I see why she gave you her phone number even though you didn't ask for it."

"Are you head over heels in love with me or something?" I teased him.

He answered to me, "Don't be ridiculous." His voice sounded serious.

I urged him, "Come on, it's just a joke."

“Hahaha,” He replied sarcastically. I was afraid I had upset him.

"I’m sorry," I said.

He didn't say anything to me after that. We left the bar and began walking down the street.

"Christian, please speak with me. Please accept my sincere apology," I insisted.

He didn't respond.

I kept walking alongside him. He was still enraged, I could tell.

He rounded the bend in the road. We simply strolled silently.

Oh, my goodness. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Is it now FO (friendship over)?

I wracked my brain for phrases to say to Christian in order for him to forgive me. But I couldn't think of anything to say to him at the time. As a result, I kept my mouth shut as I walked alongside him.

He said to me, "I'm not upset at you, you fool! I simply took you on a lengthy walk to get you to sober up. You continued saying strange things, and you were obviously inebriated. We'll take a taxi." He requested a taxi. We climbed into the taxi. We went into our respective homes.