Night Club Lights 2: Kids and Dates
by Rainxface

Sorry, I haven't been around for a couple of weeks. But I'm back now. Hope y'all don't mind. It's another mid-night story that I through together. Tonight, I'm listening to Pink Floyd, "The Wall". Aka: rainxface's trippy music. Makes you hallucinate, dizzy, and relaxed all at once!

Disclaimer: it's too hard for me to figure out. I'll let Jimmy Pats decide what's his and what's mine… just so he won't sue me.

As the days wore on, I had spent every couple of nights at the club. Anthony would join me later in the evening. We would talk, about the world, politics, and life. It was very soothing, us both having rants stored up inside of us. I could tell he had never spoken to anyone about his views because neither had I. Sure Monique and I would talk everyday, but never could I really talk. She stuffed so many words into one breath it had to be qualified as a talent.

As Anthony and I sat at the bar one night, drinking an occasional martini, I had a clear shot of James. Still his eyes were glued to me, glaring at my choice of men. I ignored him the best I could, straining focus to Anthony. As my eyes flitted everywhere during the conversation, Anthony finally asked if anything was wrong.

"James is staring at me, again," I confessed, not breaking eye contact with Anthony.

"Is that all he's doing?" he asked, his voice tense.

"At the moment." I took a quick glance over before returning as if I had never done that.

"Tell me if there is any more." Anthony sipped his martini casually and leaned over to me. "May I please ask you something?"

"Sure," I replied, shrugging.

"Do you know anything about James? Like, where he went to high school, who all he dated, what sports, and what not," he asked. Immediately, the drink I had been drinking spewed out everywhere.

"I'll take that as a yes, you do know something about James." Anthony grabbed some napkins and started wiping down himself and the bar.

"I know a few things, but not a lot," I said, wiping down what little liquid had made it on to me. "I know where he went to high school and the sports he was into."

"Please, do tell me the details," he inquired, reaching for his martini.

"He went to Cypress High. He was not a football person. He was the lead track, but focused a lot in chemistry and math stuff," I told him. I stole another quick glance at the man-whore blond.

"Where did you go to high school?" Anthony leaned closer to me again.

"I went to Cypress with him. That's how I know him. 'One day,' I'd tell myself; 'one day I'll get away from people like him,'" I admitted.

"Really now?" This little bit of information seemed to intrigue Anthony down to the bone. "Now, I'm not trying to be snoopy, but who's the father of Angela and Jason?"

"That's not important," I shied away. "It's in the past, and Angela and Jason are safe. That's all that matters."

"Alright. I'm sorry I asked," he apologized. "Now, you must have some questions for me, don't you?"

"Of course I do! Like, where did you come from, before here in Ghettosville? And why are you so keen to write a column in the newspaper about something you disagree with? And how about where you went to high school?" I exploded.

"Where I came from? No where that anyone except the people who live there know about. And I write about technology I disagree with because I am paranoid about what some people might actually be smart enough to create. My high school career goes with where I lived: no one knows about it, and not really anyone cares," Anthony replied.

"Could I possibly know the name of the city?" I inquired.

"Not right now."

"Paranoia?" Only someone paranoid as him would say that. But, was he even as paranoid as he came off to be? Or was he just very secretive?

"A little." He chuckled. "Is James doing anything right now?"

I quickly looked.

"He's motioning to one of his followers. I don't know why, though," I reported. We started drinking our drinks again, and before we knew it, a huge, muscular guy stood before us.

"James would like to talk to the lady," he grumbled, his voice low and almost crackly.

"I'm sorry. I'm not available right now," I said with mock sorrow. "He'll just have to wait until about… oh, just tell him I'm never going to be available for him, please." I turned from looking at the guy to smiling at Anthony, who had thankfully not blown up at James' follower.

But Muscle Man did not move from his spot. I saw out of the corner of my eye his fists clenching hard, almost white knuckles.

"James would like to meet with you. If he must, your date can come to," he tried to negotiate.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are or who you think you are, but right now, Max is on a date with me. So you can just skedaddle along back to your boss," Anthony excused him.

Still, Muscle Man did not move.

"Come on, let's just leave this place," I told Anthony.

"No. I'm not going to let this guy ruin our date," he said, speaking more to the guy than me.

"Anthony…" I warned. But, being a guy, he wouldn't listen to anything I said. He wouldn't pass up an opportunity to beat up some other fellow.

"James would really like to see her quickly," Muscle Man spoke up. The strain in his voice barely told us he was growing impatient. His posture even slightly shifted uncomfortably.

"You know what, fine. We're going to visit him." I stood up, purse tucked tightly under my arm, and grabbed Anthony's hand. I pulled him up. I practically stormed over to James' hang out booth.

"What the hell do you want?" I demanded. James just looked relaxed and unalarmed.

"I just wanted to have a small date with you. That is, if your boyfriend doesn't mind," he replied. I could feel the distaste radiating off of Anthony from behind me.

"No," Anthony and I said simultaneously.

"No you don't mind? Perfect. Max, come sit with me," James summoned. I groaned in grotesque.

"How about Anthony and I leave back to our date and you go on about your day as if I weren't here." I was starting to get annoyed. And much to my dismay, it was starting to show.

"Max, how're Jason and Angela doing? Do they miss me?" James continued. "After all, I am their father."

"Fuck no. You leave the kids outof this," I enraged. I grabbed Anthony's hand. "We're leaving. Now." I pulled him back to our seats at the bar, left a tip, and bounded out the doors. I turned around to look at Anthony, and all I saw was shock.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just thought that I could live my life with my kids without having to deal with James. Not even my closest friend, Monique, knows! Please don't tell anyone!" I pleaded. I followed as Anthony started walking down the street. I clung to his arm tightly.

"Anthony?" I whispered now. Tears were starting to form. My vision was focused on Anthony and Anthony only.

"You know, it's not so much that I'm in revulsion from you and James, it just came more as a shock to me. Although, now looking back, you sort of gave away huge hints," he joked. He wrapped his arm around my waist. He kissed my temple. "Don't worry, it's the past, and right now I'm your present and hopefully your future, too?"

I leaned in close to Anthony. I stopped a few inches away from his lips.

"You are most definitely in my future." He closed the space with my last word, kissing me with so much passion it was almost insane. It was amazing. As we pulled away, he held my face in his hands. He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed my forehead, each eye, my cheeks, my chin, my nose. He finished kissing my face before kissing my lips again.

"As you are in mine," Anthony said seductively.

Sorry, it's probably not that great. Whatever.

Probably no sequel after this. Just another attempt at something.

Smiles

rainxface