Author's Note: I posted this story a while ago but apparently Fanfiction didn't like the title. So here I am, reposting it.
Formerly She Fuckin' Hates Me.
Enjoy.
I tried too hard and she tore my feelings like I had none, and ripped them away.
There she was, the stupid bitch, across the crowded barroom on what could be called the dance floor if you had to give it a name, dancing dirty up on some guy to whatever this damn country song was blaring from the juke box. How could anyone dance to this shit anyways? It wasn't like she cared what the song actually was, she was only gyrating around like that to get attention. Dumb whore. Unwillingly his brows furrowed together and he pulled his gaze away from the sight in front of him. In his entire life Timothy Shepard, respected gang leader and tuff hood, had never been this frustrated because of some broad. All the time he spent on her wasted. This is what he gets for taking so much fucking interest in one person.
The last swig of the now room tempature beer in his hand gave his mind something else to focus on, even if it was such a miniscule task. He forced himself to relax his facial features, but his blue eyes were still dark with resentments. A few weeks ago was when it all started. The young hood sat in almost this exact spot watching the brunette dance. Only then she was dancing for him. Damn, did she know how to move. Every sway a strategic motion to keep his attention. Night after night he watched her, not in a creepy way but in a lustful one. She was toying with him because she knew how much he wanted her.
It wasn't that easy, an odd thing for someone like Tim. In a town where everyone knew your name girls were practically lining up for him. All it took was that trademark Shepard smirk and they all melted; he could have any girl he wanted. Any girl that is except for this one. It wasn't very nice of her to toy with his emotions like this, but then again Tim wasn't a very nice person. He probably deserved it. To be honest, she really wasn't all that good looking, but she had tits and Tim was a horny teenager. The challenge was all he was after, simple as that. He was Timothy Shepard and he could, and would, get any girl he wanted.
One night. All that hard work boiled down to one fucking night. And you know what? He barely fucking remembered it the next day. For as long as he chased her, worked his magic, and finally wore her down it was lackluster and disappointing. If you're going to be cocky that's all good and well, but you had better deliever in the end. One night, hot and heavy then it was over. It was what he wanted in the first place, because Tim Shepard didn't do "girlfriends" and he only set out to prove a point. Waking up alone in his bed after a night like the previous one was typically a good thing. It saved Tim the energy of having to be an asshole and telling whatever broad he brought home to fuck off. He was on cloud nine, for a moment anyways.
As he shook the cobwebs off and smugly recalled the events of last night he began to notice something was off. Things just didn't happen like this. The realization was slow, but when he came to Tim was pissed. The girl was gone, along with what little money he had in his wallet and a brand new pack of cigarettes. There was little else of value around here, but it wouldn't be surprising if she'd swiped that too. With gritted teeth Tim hastily pulled on a pair of boxers and stormed into the other room. That fucking bitch played him.
In an instant Tim came crashing down from his high of satisfaction. Now he was just pissed off. Everything he might have felt for that broad disapated. Every single emotion he felt, or could have, was locked up. He was cold and bitter. How did he let someone get the best of him? He was smarter than that, damn it! She had him so wrapped up in her illusion that he'd been too far gone to realize anything. This was the last time anything like this would happen again. Never would Tim let emotion get the better of him. He had a gang to run, a family to support, and a reputation to uphold no pansy ass bullshit like that was going to get in the way. No girl was worth Tim making a fool of himself again. All he had to say was she'd better enjoy it while she could because you don't cross as Shepard like that and get away with it.
That's my story, as you see. I learned my lesson and so did she. Now it's over and I'm glad. 'Cuz I'm a fool for all I've said.
A few days had passed since the whole incident, and Tim was sure to do what he could to piss this skank off. That required him to stoop down to his little sister's level. Angela was used to seeing Tim come home with different women, and all he had to do was mention something about her in passing and that was it. Thirteen year old girls will spread gossip quicker than wild fire. It was effortless, and that was the only thing that slut would get from Tim again. She wasn't even worth a second though. By the time Angela told her friends, they told their friends, and they told everyone else the story had twisted and turned and taken on a life of it's own. What Tim was hearing now was far more interesting than anything he ever could have come up with. Knowing that it wouldn't be long until it got back to this chick herself made Tim smug as ever.
With a few more drinks Tim was slowly getting over his resentments. He'd lightened up and was laughing just bullshitting around with his boys. The stupid country music didn't even bother him anymore. He didn't care who was here or what they were doing; he was feeling fine with out a care in the world. Why should be let the sight of that whore ruin his night? She was nothing but a dirty tramp anyways; Tim had gotten what he wanted from her. All she was now was a distant memory that would soon be forgotten.
A pretty little blonde placed another round of beers on the table for the guys and Tim leaned over in his chair, starting to get handsy. She was intimidated by him, but refused to let him see the nervousness on her face. This was Buck's after all, the patrons all tended to get a bit rowdy when they were drunk. The girl tried to slink away but everyone's attention was caught by a shriek of "You son of a bitch!" followed by awful sounding crash. Tim dropped his hands instantly letting his chair fall back on all four legs, completely stunned. The brunette standing next to him with the neck of a shatter beer bottle in her hand was telling him off. Everyone else around him was either just as shocked as he was or in a panic. The general concensus was that Tim needed to look at his face. He got the idea alright. Seconds after the gut wrenching crash Tim couldn't even see. His face, and now a great deal of his tee shirt, was covered in blood. It showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. He didn't even feel it. Tim raised a hand to touch his face and knew she'd done a number. With that devilish smirk of his the only thing Tim said was, "You think it's gonna leave a scar?" He found his statement so amusing that he just couldn't help but start laughing. Everyone around him sat there dumbfounded, and the bitch threw the broken bottle down before storming off. Great now he'd always have something to remember her by.
When his drunken giggles subsided Tim simply grabbed one of the beers sitting on the table and took a nice long drink. Drunk as he was, the shock was starting to wear off and let's just say getting your face slashed up didn't exactly tickle. "Man," He said in a more serious tone. It wasn't directed towards anyone, just a general exclaimation. "She fuckin' hates me." Grinning broad as ever Tim did nothing but laughed it off. Tomorrow was definitely going to be one hell of a morning.
