Status: Finished <3 sequel is up :)

The Hand of Destiny

So What's Wrong With Taking The Backstreets?

ANDY’S POV

Two days later

~

The street was already practically empty, not that this was altogether unusual considering the time. A few people moved with purpose across roads and down streets, some heading towards their homes and other heading out towards bars and clubs. I breathed in, frowning slightly as the cold air hit the back of my throat. The only sound permeating the silence of the street was my footsteps, like a steady drum beat my shoes created against the cold stone ground. New York was prettier at night in my opinion, less hassle and drama. No one rushed around carrying briefcases exclaiming into their phones various things about businesses I’d never heard of. Stars shone dimly above me, half covered by a dark mist but not enough that they became hidden.

I walked past a well-lit club - ‘Viva!’ the sign outside stated in neons. I could already tell the energy inside was pulsing as people pushed themselves into the seemingly full building. Laughter and music filled the air and drowned out my footsteps, my drumming lost under the wave of new beats. I probably would have wanted to go in there and join the fun if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d just come out of a bar. Me, Jinxx, Ashley, Jake and C.C had decided to go out for the evening after having spent so much of the last week inside our apartments, whether it was a good idea or not though is debatable as we had an important English lecture with the one of the strictest tutors in the collage tomorrow and the last time I came in with a hangover, he made sure to slam down the book he was handing out extra hard on my desk. Bastard… Anyway, he’ll have to deal with it as we managed to down a considerable amount of shots and drinks over the evening. The only person not really drinking was Ashley, which was a surprise as usually he loves a drink but he said he had a headache and didn’t want to make it worse, which was fair enough.

He’ll probably be laughing at the rest of us tomorrow when we wake up feeling like our heads have exploded.

I moved on past, the sound of the night spot getting quieter with every step I took. When I was far enough away that I could barely hear it anymore, I looked around for the name of the street I was on - eager to find out just how long it would be until I was home and out of the harsh weather.

Montana Blvd. the sign at the edge of the road stated.

It would still take me nearly twenty minutes to get home going the usual route. There are other ways home of course, but the shorter routes are notoriously more dangerous. For example, you can get home in five minutes by going through an abandoned construction site three minutes from here if you are willing to take the risk of falling in holes in the dark or having bits of old scaffolding fall on you. Not to mention the fact there’s asbestos in some of the areas and it counts as criminal trespassing.

However, there is a slightly safer route that will still cut the journey time in half. At the end of Montana Boulevard there is a wide alley that leads to several backstreets, of course, some of them you have to avoid because of known drug dealings going on there but other than that they’re generally safe.

Deciding it was worth losing some of the artificial light provided by the lamp posts to gain a shorter journey, I turned at the end of the road rather than continuing on. My stomach already started to feel dodgy like I was going to be sick in the near future, so the quicker I get back home to the apartment (and more specifically the bathroom and paracetamol the better. The alley did look rather sinister at night but it’s not like it’s completely dark down there. I mean come on, when you combine the light from the clubs, nightspots, headlights and lamp posts then add in the fact that most of the apartments in the city still had their lights on despite the time of night the whole city was covered by at least some light..

I’ve always seemed to have an unlucky misfortune with weather, which is why it came as no surprise to me when rain started to fall from the dark clouds looming above me. The rain steadily got heavier, making the noise that the drops made as they hit the cold ground crescendo until it drowned out my footsteps entirely. I’m glad I chose to come this way now; it means less time spent getting drenched. My current condition and situation is not a great one; slightly drunk, tired, cold, wet and alone. All of which I could remedy as soon as I got back though.

I started walking down the alley, pleasantly surprised when I realised that the brick walls on either side blocked out a lot of the cold wind and most of the rain considering it was coming down at an angle.

Without the consistent noise of the wind in my ear or the laughter and music of the clubs it was rather quiet, so much so that I found myself humming just to fill the quieter air with some sound. I continued as I walked, trying to work out the tune I was actually humming; I laughed inwardly when I realised the song was ‘The Sharpest Lives’ by My Chemical Romance. It was a rather appropriate song choice considering the situation, and since no one was around I saw no harm in singing it aloud.

“Well it rains and it pours when you’re out on your own,
If I crash on the couch can I sleep in my clothes?
‘Cause I spent the night dancing,
I’m drunk I suppose,
If it looks like I’m laughing I’m really just asking to leave-”


I stopped singing when I heard a noise near me; even in my intoxicated state the sound of shoes scrapping on ground was unmistakable.

“Hello?” I called out, which was stupid thinking on my part because really, it didn’t matter who they were or what they were doing there if they didn’t mean me any harm. If they did it’s not like they were just going to suddenly reply ‘oh yeah, over here, I got a knife and I’m going to stab you ‘kay?’.

Minorly creeped out, I moved on but a little quicker, keeping my hands in my pockets as I walked. I don’t know why that would make any difference, it just felt safer to have them there rather than dangling by my sides.

I heard the noise again and this time I got a little more freaked, it’s probably nothing but things like this always make me really jumpy, especially when it’s night time and I can’t see properly. I breathed slightly in relief as I saw the end of the alley come into view.

I started walking back on the main road again, happy now knowing that my apartment was mere minutes away. Then I felt someone yank the back of my jacket and I would’ve sworn to god my heart skipped a beat, if it wasn’t for the fact that before I could take the time to register it, I was being dragged by my jacket and arm towards a vehicle waiting at the side of the road. I started trying to kick and throw my arms around in any attempt to dislodge the attacker (if you could call them that, at the minute it was more restraining than attacking) but it was futile. In a matter of seconds, I found myself pushed into the back seat of the car, my hands coming into contact with the black leather seats. I jolted my head up to see a man getting into the front of the car, presumably the restrainer/attacker.

I was scared already - though I tried not to show it - but seeing my attackers face somehow made me calmer and more scared at the same time. Calming I guess because I recognized the face, more scared because of who the face belonged to.

He grinned at me; I could practically see his eyes shining with delight even under his blonde fringe. His eyes locked on mine and then I decided that this definitely made me more scared than calm. I wanted so badly to speak, to demand to be left alone, to yell at him and ask him what the fuck was going on inside his twisted little head but the words didn’t make it past my throat.

I saw him push a button on the dashboard and heard all the car locks click like a key in a prison cell door. Then he reached down to pat his pocket. Through the thin material I saw an outline of an object that made me sober up even quicker than before.

The outline of the gun in his pocket scared me shitless, but the fact that the hand patting the pocket belonged to Craig was enough to make pure fear flood through my body.
♠ ♠ ♠
:O. Yes, the weird blonde kid at the school was Craig (well done if you guessed that, have a Mini C.C with complimentary drumstick if you did *hands*) and now he has Andy! Oh shit...

So, thoughts and comments?