Fight
Fight
Where in the world is he? I thought, looking around the bright dance club. Strobe lights pulsed with neon colors, lighting up the dancers on the dance floor. The lights showed the smiling, laughing faces of the dancers as they danced close to each other, their bodies pressing as close as possible in the small space.
The rap and hip hop music blasted from the DJ’s booth, each song blending into the next. I couldn’t tell one from the next and the songs weren’t really my favorite yet I couldn’t stop my foot from tapping. I wanted to get up and join the dancing crowd but I had to wait for Dylan. He was supposed to show up forty minutes ago to drive me home.
After I had texted him I tried to stand outside but the cold November night air was forced me back inside. I had only worn a pair of jeans and a tee shirt to the club; while changing I only thought about how hot it would be inside, the temperature afterwards never crossed my mind.
Once again I checked my phone to see how late he was and if he had left any messages. There was nothing and he was forty-four minutes late.
When another five minutes went by and Dylan still hadn’t shown up I went over to the crowded bar and waited for a space that I could squeeze myself into to so I could order a margarita, if Dylan was going to make me wait I was going to get even more drunk. The bartender eventually got my drink to me so I paid and walked back over to the group of small tables that were placed next to the dance floor. I sat at the nearest one that was empty and sipped my drink as time crawled by.
Watching the numerous people dancing kept me entertained. The way the girls danced together to attract the attention of the boys who sat among the tables was interesting to watch. Occasionally one would walk over and join them or try to start talking with one. That never worked and the guy would usually walk back to his friends with a frown. Those were funny because the friends would make obnoxious comments and slap the dejected man on the back.
I checked my phone for the millionth time. Dylan better have the best excuse in the world when he shows up. I had called him an hour ago and he still hadn’t shown. Someone better be dead or dying for him to take this long.
I was about to put my phone away and get another drink when the phone’s screen glowed blue and a picture of an envelope appeared. I flipped the phone open and read Dylan’s text.
mel i’m by the bar
I snapped the phone shut in anger and looked in the direction of the bar. Bodies blocked my vision; there was no way I was going to find Dylan. With a frustrated sigh I left my table and attempted to force my way through the crowds.
People were not happy with me as I tried to push sweaty bodies out of my way. I came in contact with more sticky flesh than I had wanted too and my arms felt very bruised by the time the bar was visible.
Then there was the task of actually finding Dylan. Swarms of people were around the bar, fighting for the bartenders’ attention. The pulsing lights above didn’t help as I scanned the crowd.
I spun around to look at the dancers and on the edge of the dance floor, in the small space were dancers and drinkers stopped, was Dylan dancing with a tall, scantly-clad brunette. Dylan looked like he was having the time of his life as he ran his hands up and down the woman’s body.
I stormed over to my friend. He didn’t notice me when I reached them which worked to my advantage. I sharply tapped the woman on the shoulder. She spun around in surprise and right after I got a look at her narrowed eyes and pissed off expression I shoved her towards Dylan.
He caught the brunette and looked at me in shock.
“Mel, what the hell was that for?” he shouted over the music, I could barely make out his words.
“Why are you dancing?! I called you over an hour ago and here you are dancing!” I slurred out, waving my hand at the woman.
“Go away, Barbie,” the woman snapped, pushing herself in front of me.
That was all it took to set me off in my buzzed state. I intended to punch her face but my aim was off and I hit her arm. She shoved me, her talon-like nails dug into my shoulders. Then we were attacking each other.
Dylan attempted to get between us but at the same time the woman and I pushed him out of our way. I slapped at her face and she pulled at my hair. We were like five year olds with the way we were acting but neither of us cared, we didn’t care that a circle was surrounding us to watch the fight like we were in high school, either.
She kicked my left leg and the toe of her boot hurt, in retaliation I went to grab one of her hoop earrings. Someone grabbed my wrist from behind before I could reach the piece of jewelry. I was going to turn around and see who it was when the woman punched me right in the nose.
The pain was brutal. I put my hand up to my nose and pulled it away to see blood on my fingers. The woman’s eyes widened as I lunged for her but I was held back. Whoever was holding me was pulling me back. My legs flailed wildly and I was glad to feel when one made contact with the woman. She doubled over in pain and that was the last I saw before the people closed in on her.
I was pulled through the crowd and outside through the front door. There were a few people on the street and they gave me a look as the huge man who was carrying me set me on my feet. His face was grim as he looked down at me.
“Stay here,” he ordered in a deep voice.
Dylan came running out of the club, his clothes were wrinkled and his eyes were wide as he got a look at me.
“Hell, Mel. You look like shit,” he said, taking my face into his hands. He looked at my nose and went to touch it but I hit his hand away. “What was that all about?”
“I was tired of waiting,” I simply said.
He just sighed and shook his head. “Are you all right? It looked like you were getting beat in there.”
“I’m fine, that was the greatest thing in my life! The rush from that was just so great!”
“You’re drunk,” he stated.
“Not yet! But that doesn’t mean that fight wasn’t great!”
Dylan shook his head and waited for the man to come back. I recounted the fight for Dylan, savoring the details. That was by far the best fight of my life.
The rap and hip hop music blasted from the DJ’s booth, each song blending into the next. I couldn’t tell one from the next and the songs weren’t really my favorite yet I couldn’t stop my foot from tapping. I wanted to get up and join the dancing crowd but I had to wait for Dylan. He was supposed to show up forty minutes ago to drive me home.
After I had texted him I tried to stand outside but the cold November night air was forced me back inside. I had only worn a pair of jeans and a tee shirt to the club; while changing I only thought about how hot it would be inside, the temperature afterwards never crossed my mind.
Once again I checked my phone to see how late he was and if he had left any messages. There was nothing and he was forty-four minutes late.
When another five minutes went by and Dylan still hadn’t shown up I went over to the crowded bar and waited for a space that I could squeeze myself into to so I could order a margarita, if Dylan was going to make me wait I was going to get even more drunk. The bartender eventually got my drink to me so I paid and walked back over to the group of small tables that were placed next to the dance floor. I sat at the nearest one that was empty and sipped my drink as time crawled by.
Watching the numerous people dancing kept me entertained. The way the girls danced together to attract the attention of the boys who sat among the tables was interesting to watch. Occasionally one would walk over and join them or try to start talking with one. That never worked and the guy would usually walk back to his friends with a frown. Those were funny because the friends would make obnoxious comments and slap the dejected man on the back.
I checked my phone for the millionth time. Dylan better have the best excuse in the world when he shows up. I had called him an hour ago and he still hadn’t shown. Someone better be dead or dying for him to take this long.
I was about to put my phone away and get another drink when the phone’s screen glowed blue and a picture of an envelope appeared. I flipped the phone open and read Dylan’s text.
mel i’m by the bar
I snapped the phone shut in anger and looked in the direction of the bar. Bodies blocked my vision; there was no way I was going to find Dylan. With a frustrated sigh I left my table and attempted to force my way through the crowds.
People were not happy with me as I tried to push sweaty bodies out of my way. I came in contact with more sticky flesh than I had wanted too and my arms felt very bruised by the time the bar was visible.
Then there was the task of actually finding Dylan. Swarms of people were around the bar, fighting for the bartenders’ attention. The pulsing lights above didn’t help as I scanned the crowd.
I spun around to look at the dancers and on the edge of the dance floor, in the small space were dancers and drinkers stopped, was Dylan dancing with a tall, scantly-clad brunette. Dylan looked like he was having the time of his life as he ran his hands up and down the woman’s body.
I stormed over to my friend. He didn’t notice me when I reached them which worked to my advantage. I sharply tapped the woman on the shoulder. She spun around in surprise and right after I got a look at her narrowed eyes and pissed off expression I shoved her towards Dylan.
He caught the brunette and looked at me in shock.
“Mel, what the hell was that for?” he shouted over the music, I could barely make out his words.
“Why are you dancing?! I called you over an hour ago and here you are dancing!” I slurred out, waving my hand at the woman.
“Go away, Barbie,” the woman snapped, pushing herself in front of me.
That was all it took to set me off in my buzzed state. I intended to punch her face but my aim was off and I hit her arm. She shoved me, her talon-like nails dug into my shoulders. Then we were attacking each other.
Dylan attempted to get between us but at the same time the woman and I pushed him out of our way. I slapped at her face and she pulled at my hair. We were like five year olds with the way we were acting but neither of us cared, we didn’t care that a circle was surrounding us to watch the fight like we were in high school, either.
She kicked my left leg and the toe of her boot hurt, in retaliation I went to grab one of her hoop earrings. Someone grabbed my wrist from behind before I could reach the piece of jewelry. I was going to turn around and see who it was when the woman punched me right in the nose.
The pain was brutal. I put my hand up to my nose and pulled it away to see blood on my fingers. The woman’s eyes widened as I lunged for her but I was held back. Whoever was holding me was pulling me back. My legs flailed wildly and I was glad to feel when one made contact with the woman. She doubled over in pain and that was the last I saw before the people closed in on her.
I was pulled through the crowd and outside through the front door. There were a few people on the street and they gave me a look as the huge man who was carrying me set me on my feet. His face was grim as he looked down at me.
“Stay here,” he ordered in a deep voice.
Dylan came running out of the club, his clothes were wrinkled and his eyes were wide as he got a look at me.
“Hell, Mel. You look like shit,” he said, taking my face into his hands. He looked at my nose and went to touch it but I hit his hand away. “What was that all about?”
“I was tired of waiting,” I simply said.
He just sighed and shook his head. “Are you all right? It looked like you were getting beat in there.”
“I’m fine, that was the greatest thing in my life! The rush from that was just so great!”
“You’re drunk,” he stated.
“Not yet! But that doesn’t mean that fight wasn’t great!”
Dylan shook his head and waited for the man to come back. I recounted the fight for Dylan, savoring the details. That was by far the best fight of my life.