Music echoed through the halls of the bar. Lights flashed everywhere. Drunk people littered the area.
"I want to dance," My friend PJ whined. He grabbed Chris's hand, dragging him onto the dancefloor. I watched in amusement as the two went on the dancefloor.
Their "dancing" consisted of grinding on each other. Chris started behind PJ, but that switched roles quickly. I knew it wouldn't be long until they snuck off. Probably to a bathroom, but with those two, you never know.
I laughed quietly as they walked off. I turned back in the bar stool. I wasn't into the whole dancing scene. I preferred to just drink.
"Here, sir, another drink for you," The bartender said, placing some sort of colorful shot in front of me.
"Thanks."
People had been buying me drinks all night. Sadly, the drinks didn't have the effect the buyers had hoped. I had no intents on getting piss drunk tonight, and surely didn't plan on hooking up with anyone.
I began looking around again, sipping on one of the drinks I was giving. PJ and Chris were gone. It'd be awhile until they returned. I hoped to at least find someone else to catch my eye.
That's when I saw him.
He was a tall thin boy. A pink flower crown contained his curly brown hair. He wore a tight white shirt and pink pants.
Definitely not your average club attire, but he was pretty. Pretty enough that I would have to consider taking back my oath to not hook up with anyone tonight.
"Who you staring at?" A voice caused me to jump. I tore my eyes from the pretty boy and turned to the source of the voice. PJ and Chris were next to me.
"You guys finish your fun?" I asked with a smirk. Their lips were swollen. I could see hickies lining their necks.
"Shut up," Chris said, rubbing his neck. His cheeks blushed red.
"Don't avoid the question, Phil." PJ looked past me, no doubt trying to figure out who caught my eye. "Who is it?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
I grabbed a glass and downed the alcohol. I looked around, looking for the boy again. I found him, sitting in the corner. Some guy was grinding on him, kissing the pretty boy's neck.
I wish that could be me.
"Don't worry about it," I said, glancing back to PJ. "Why don't you focus on your own life instead of meddling in mine?"
"What love life?" PJ scoffed. "You haven't had a steady relationship since I've known you."
"You are kind of the one night stand kind of guy," Chris added softly, taking a sip of his water.
"Don't like commitment." I shrugged, downing another shot.
"You literally have like three tattoos." PJ said exasperated. "That's a lifetime of commitment."
"Whatever."
I glanced over at the boy again, ensuring he was still there. He was. He was pinned against the wall by some dude. From this distance, I couldn't tell if the boy liked it or not. He didn't seem to be pushing him away.
Chris and PJ finally took their focus off of me and started talking. I half-listened, occasionally offering a comment on their conversation, but I mostly watched the boy.
He pushed the man away from him, allowing me to realize it wasn't consensual. I felt bad for not intervening. He quickly walked through the bar and out the doors. The guy he shoved away, along with a small group, followed behind him.
"I'll be back," I told my friends, standing up to my feet. "Smoke break."
I ran after the boy, leaving before my friends had a chance to offer an "Okay." By the time, I got outside, the boy was surrounded and on the ground. Kicks flew at him from all directions.
"Hey!" I yelled before they had a chance to do much damage. They stopped beating the boy and turned to look at me. "Leave him alone."
"What are you going to do about it?" One of the guys said. I recognized him as the guy who had pinned the pretty boy against the wall.
"Don't test me."
I slipped a knife from out of my pocket, suddenly grateful I remembered grab it. I flipped open the blade, showing it the guys. In the silence, I counted the guys. Six of them. Could I really take six of them? I honestly wasn't sure, But I was willing to risk it.
"Why do you even want to protect this fag anyway?" The leader asked, sending another kick to the boy's stomach. He groaned softly.
"Please, you're just mad he rejected you." My voice held more confidence than I felt. I was surprised at how still my hand stood.
"Whatever, it's not even worth it." The boy sent one final kick the pretty boy. "Be happy your boyfriend saved you, faggot."
The group of boys walked off. I hurried over to the pretty boy and kneeled next to him. His eyes were closed and his head was bleeding.
"Hey, are you alright?"
The boy opened his eyes slowly. He didn't say anything for a moment, but his brown eyes flicked around the area.
"Phil!" PJ's and Chris's voice came from behind me. I groaned quietly but turned around. They ran over to me.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"You took a while," PJ stated. He began to say something else, but he stopped. That must have been the moment they saw the pretty boy on the ground. "Who is this?"
I ignored PJ and focused on the boy. He had started to sit up. His eyes were glued to me.
"You…protected me?" He asked.
I nodded. His eyes went to something on the ground and he flinched back. I looked to where his eyes went. My knife. I hadn't realized that I just dropped it when I ran over to him.
"Sorry about that." I grabbed it from the ground and flipped the blade shut.
"Phil," Chris started, "How many people did you fight?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," I replied, returning the knife to my pocket.
"Don't lie to us," PJ growled. "You only ever pull out the knife if it is a bigger group than you can handle on your own. How. Many."
"Six," I mumbled the number, not wanting to admit it. I had just risked my life on a pretty boy whose name I hadn't even learned yet.
"SIX?" PJ screamed.
The pretty boy fell backwards. He stared at us with wide eyes.
"Yell at me later. Go back inside. I'll catch up."
"Phil,"
"Go!"
I turned around and glared at them. Why was it so hard for them to understand that I didn't want them here? They finally got the hint and went back inside. I could hear PJ grumbling under his breath, though I couldn't make out his words.
"Hey, sorry about that," I turned back to the pretty boy. His eyes were still on me.
"You protected me?" He asked again.
"Yeah. I…" I didn't want to admit that I was watching him all night. "I came out to smoke and saw them beating you. I couldn't just watch that happen."
"T-thanks." He turned his head to the cement. I watched as he played with a piece of stone. Blood seeped from his head, clumping into his hair.
"No problem." My eyes were glued to his wound. "Can.. Can I help you clean up?"
"Clean up?" He looked at me with wide eyes.
"Your head." I motioned to the wound. "It's bleeding."
He reached his hand to his head and touched the blood. He looked at it for a moment, before shaking his head.
"Don't worry about it. I'm just going to head home."
He struggled to his feet. I was going to help him, but he was up before I could. He brushed himself off.
"Thank you again for helping me. Is… there something I could do to make it up to you?"
"It was no problem, really," I insisted. I couldn't exactly tell him that I wanted to protect him and purposefully came out here to protect him.
"Can I do something to make it up to you?"
"Tell me your name and give me your number?" I asked hopefully. I reached for my phone as the pretty boy nodded. He took my phone.
He handed me back my phone, grinning. "It's Dan."
"Nice to meet you, Dan. My name is Phil."
He thanked me again before walking off. I couldn't help but smile as I walked back into the bar. I met back up with Chris and PJ. As I expected, they lectured me for trying to fight so many guys. I nodded, pretending to take what they were saying to heart. A half assed apology and letting them finish their lecture was all it took for them to let the subject drop.
I texted Dan so that he would have my number.
"That boy was cute," PJ said finally, earning himself a smack on the chest from Chris. "Did you get his number?"
I smiled, which was all the answer they needed.
"Just don't play him, okay?"
I had no intention on playing this boy. He was too pretty to go through a broken heart. The idea of being the cause of a broken heart physically hurt me.
I will do everything I can to not hurt him.