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Three Months Later
Weekends were what kept Beth sane. She was so entirely bogged down by school and her newly acquired internship. Though to be honest, she actually spent the majority of her weekends doing homework and filling out paperwork. But Saturday nights, they were her release from the monotonous procedure that her life had become.
After checking her reflection in the mirror one last time, she grabbed her coat and signaled for her sister by jingling her keys as if she were a dog. Beth did this specifically because her sister hated it.
"I'm not your pet, Beth," Maggie huffed but shut off the TV, conceding to Beth's degrading summoning.
"Where are we going tonight, anyway?" Beth asked as she shoved her phone and keys in her pocket.
"We're meeting up with Lizzie and Carl and then apparently going to one of the older clubs in the city. It's really hard to get in but Lizzie has the hook up," Maggie shrugged and opened the front door.
"Carl, really? That guy is such a stoner," Beth whined. "He talks slowly, too,"
"Going by your assessment of stoners, Nana is one," Maggie laughed.
"Whatever. Do you have cab money?" Beth and Maggie both shivered as the night air hit them.
"Yeah, you got it last time so it's on me tonight. But, you're gonna have to buy me some drinks, I think," Maggie smirked and held out her hand to hail a taxi.
"I'll buy you drinks if you stop ordering ones with stupid names."
"But those ones taste the best!" Maggie pouted. "You have your fake ID?"
"You're a brat. And yes I do." Beth rolled her eyes.
"One who could easily kick your ass," Maggie shot back as they climbed into a waiting cab that reeked of cigarettes and coffee.
Beth felt a wave of nerves crash over her. She felt the eyes of the cab driver on her body. She shuddered, but quickly composed herself. She could protect herself. Ever since what she now referred to as the encounter, she'd been taking self-defense classes several times a week. The more she thought back on how Daryl had to step in to defend her, the more it angered her that she couldn't stand up for herself. At least not physically. Beth could sling an insult that could equate to a sandbag being dropped on your head. Unfortunately, insults don't protect one's virtue from being manhandled.
The club certainly didn't fail to hold up its reputation. It was really fucking cool. Dim lights and modern leather furniture, art deco creations adorned the walls, and a reflective glass bar stretched almost the length of the entire room, she welcomed the irregular mixture of the beat of the music and the chatter of the people. She appreciated that it was too loud in there to small talk with strangers.
"Do you want another drink?" Maggie yelled to Beth, even though they were seated next to each other on a couch.
Beth held up her cup to show that it was still half-full and shook her head. Beth wasn't much of a drinker.
"I'm gonna get another," Maggie stood up.
"She's probably going over there to hit on that redhead," Lizzie laughed from the other side of Beth.
Beth giggled.
"Heeeey, guys." Carl showed up in front of them, looking as pleased as if he had just traipsed through a field of daises and fireflies.
"Where'd you go?" Beth looked up at Carl's glazed over eyes.
"I don't even know! I was talking to this guy who looked like fucking Will Smith, man. It was bad ass." Carl sat on the rectangular table across from the couch.
"Sure you didn't make a stop to hang out with Mary Jane?" Lizzie snorted.
Carl grinned wide and squintily. "You know I've always gotta show some love to my girl."
"Care to share her?" Maggie had returned with her drink. Beth raised an eyebrow. She didn't know her sister smoked weed.
"You want some? I didn't know you smoked, Maggie! This is fucking great. Now you can come to my 4/20 party. We make pot cookies, brownies, muffins..." Carl ticked things off with the count of his fingers and Beth cringed slightly as the desserts he listed became less and less mixable with the drug.
"I do occasionally," Maggie chuckled, mainly to cut him off. "Where should we go to do it?"
"I went out in the alley. It's kind of fucking creepy out there but it's like empty." Carl rubbed at his eyes and then produced a little bottle of eye drops from his pockets, putting a few drops in both eyes. This guy was prepared.
"You want to?" Maggie asked Lizzie.
"I'm good. I have work in the morning so I don't really wanna mix drinking and smoking." Lizzie said.
"Okay. Did you want to come out with us, Beth?"
Beth nodded her head and stood up. "We'll be back in a bit, gorgeous." Maggie winked at Lizzie and grabbed Carl who was aloof and staring at the colored lights on the ceiling, and they walked out of the club.
"You sure we can get back in?" Beth asked a little hesitantly as she looked at the expansive line of people waiting for entry.
"Oh yeah. I know the bouncer. Used to hook him up with the good stuff back when I dealt," Carl waggled his eyebrows.
"You dealt? That's stupid, Carl," Beth sighed.
"Had to do something to put food on the table," Carl shrugged as they rounded the corner. "Plus, that's when I first got my lizard. Those things are more expensive than you'd think!" Carl always talked about his lizard as if it were his child.
"I'm guessing now that you have a substantial job, you don't worry about having money to buy crickets for...what's his name? Leonard?" Beth questioned.
"Larry, man. Larry. Leonard is a stupid ass name. And yeah, things are good now. Plus, since I do a lot of the graphic designing from home, he can chill on my shoulder while I work. It's pretty nice," Carl smiled fondly.
Beth and Maggie and shook their heads. She didn't like lizards so much, so she felt it best if they didn't dwell on the topic much longer lest the truth come out.
They glanced around as they leaned against the brick wall. It was cold outside, but the alcohol in his stomach made Beth feel substantially warmer. Carl pulled a pipe and lighter out of his pocket and passed them to Maggie.
"It's already packed. Go for it," Carl urged.
It had been a while since Maggie had done it, but it was just like riding a bike. She held the end of the pipe up to her lips and lit the weed in the belly of the pipe as she took a deep inhale. She held it in as she handed the pipe and lighter over to Carl, who followed suit. Beth cringed at the strong odor it produced.
He blew out the smoke slowly, relishing the additional warmth that it brought him. "That's good stuff." Maggie swallowed and nodded, impressed.
"I know! It's some strain of kush. Purple, I think? I don't even know. I got it as a gift from the girl at the pet shop. I always buy Larry's supplies there. She's a cool chick." Ca handed the supplies back to Maggie.
"Sounds like you two have a thing going on," Beth smirked, biting her nails a substantial amount of feet away from her sister and Carl.
"No way. She kind of has a beard." Carl's brow furrowed and Beth chuckled.
They passed the pipe back and forth a few times and then put it away, both feeling quite satisfactorily buzzed. Maggie had left after, saying she needed to go to the bathroom.
"Whoa, where are they all going? Why are they running so fast?" Beth squinted at the end of the alley, the one furthest from the entrance of the club. Carl lazily turned his head toward it and they both saw that there was a crowd of people quickly gathering there in the enclosure created by the backsides of four buildings.
"I don't fucking know. Maybe they found dinosaur bones or something..." Carl drawled.
"Huh?" Beth laughed. "Why would they be running over there if they found dino bones?"
"Because dinosaur bones are cool! I'd run, man. I'd be there in a second. Jurassic Park, bro. Best movie of all time," Carl blinked, trying to wet his eyes, and nodded with confidence.
"But why would there be dinosaur bones there in the first place?" Beth squinted. Carl was a weirdo.
"They owned the fucking land, back in the day. No boundaries or limits, man," Carl stared off into the distance.
Beth just cracked up some more. "Wanna go see what's up?"
"Sure! If there are actually fossils over there, you owe me a fucking pie," Carl exclaimed and pushed off the wall.
"Why a pie?" Beth walked backward, smirking at the strange boy.
"I like pie," Carl shrugged.
The crowd as it turned out, were not excited about the groundbreaking discovery of dinosaur bones. Instead, they seemed to be gathering in a circle to witness a fight. At least, that's what Beth assumed considering the fact that people were chanting "Fight, fight, fight!"
"Lame, just a bar fight probably." Beth yawned. "Probably fighting over a girl."
Carl's eyes widened as he blearily surveyed the scene. "Dude! This isn't a bar brawl. This is fucking legitimate street fighting. I recognize one of the guys. He's famous on campus."
"People actually do that? Why?" Beth narrowed his eyes.
"The winner gets money. Not just chump change, either. I'm talking thousands. I'd do it myself, but I don't want to mess up this pretty face." Carl emphasized his point by smiling largely.
"It's still stupid. Fighting recreationally? Nah. What's the guy's name that you recognize?" Beth tried to peer over the crowd but there were too many people that were taller than her. "I can't see anyone. How did you see the guys?"
"Oh, I'm looking under the armpit of the girl in front of me. It pays to be short!" Carl grinned.
"Mhm..." Beth grumbled.
"They call the guy Flesheater, by the way. I don't know his real name."
"That's disgusting. Does he really eat people's flesh and?" Beth cringed.
"Nah. I mean, maybe. Who knows! Not in front of anyone, to my knowledge," Carl shrugged.
"Comforting..." Beth grimaced, tying her long blonde hair into a pony tail. "Wonder who he's fighting?"
Carl peered under the armpit again. "I don't know who the other guy is. He looks pretty fit though. Not as strong as Flesheater, but capable. He's got a black leather angel wing vest on though."
Beth immediately thought about Daryl, because she really didn't know anyone else who wore a black leather vest. Beth really didn't have any good memories involving Daryl, it was such a fleeting and disturbing experience. But occasionally, she did think back on the mysterious guy because he was memorable. Even if not with a positive connotation
"I knew a guy who wore a black leather angel wing vest." Beth shared.
"This guy looks like a redneck. Looks kinda out of place." Carl laughed.
Beth blinked. Could it be? "I've gotta get closer," Beth started to push her way through the crowd.
"Uh, no. I've heard that if you give Flesheater anything resembling an odd look, he comes over and punches you in the face," Carl called after her.
Beth wasn't going to get that close. Just close enough to shake the stupid notion that the other fighter was Daryl. If she didn't see, she'd always wonder. But the odds were slim; Daryl lived over an hour away and she had never run into him in the city before.
Beth had to use her newfound strength to force her way past a rather portly gentleman that just wouldn't budge. But finally, she was closer to the front and she could see the two opponents, though only the back of the man wearing a vest.
Flesheater was big, his face was scarred and he didn't wear a shirt. His muscles were gross and bulging. Sure, they were probably good for fighting, but Beth thought they made him look like a human ape.
Beth started from the feet up on the other guy, looking at his large boots, ripped jeans, his ripped flannel and vest that displayed lean but muscular arms. She then followed the shaggy, greasy, brown hair that hung down to his shoulders and up to the guy's head. From behind, he certainly did look like Daryl. But again, what were the odds?
"Alright ya scoundrels," a man stepped out of the crowd and shouted, "we gotta git this goin' 'fore the cops show up an' ruin all the fun," he laughed and the crowd joined in. Beth assumed him to be the announcer, and she scrunched up her nose, not understanding how people could find this entertaining.
"T'night we have the infamous an' terrifyin' FLESHEATER!" he yelled with a scraggly southern drawl, and the crowd went wild. "Versin' a guy who is relatively new ta the game but rapidly becomin' known fer his agility, footwork, and the ability ta throw one hell of a punch...DIXON!"
Beth's mouth dropped open. Dixon. It was Daryl.
"Why'd you leave me back there? That Will Smith guy showed up and started hitting on me," Carl huffed as he arrived next to Beth.
"I know the other guy, Carl." Beth's mouth was still wide open, staring at Daryl's face. He was still as remarkable looking as ever, his bruise had healed from the months before and his face was smooth and calm, though Beth knew that could change in any instant.
"They called him Dixon, yeah? Hm. Well, he's about to get his ass kicked. Sorry."
"I don't know...he's pretty tough," Beth recalled the way that Daryl had taken down his father in defense of Beth. "Maybe he'll pull through." Beth found herself suddenly very interested in the fight, nervous and anticipatory tingles spread throughout her stomach.
"Do you wanna stay and watch?" Carl raised a surprised and challenging eyebrow.
Beth thought for a moment. Watching people fight wasn't how she had envisioned her night playing out- but the prospect of watching Daryl fight awakened an excitement in her that she didn't know lay stagnant.
"Yeah, I wanna watch," Beth nodded her head and stared unabashed as Daryl looked around at the crowd with a confident smirk displayed on his lips, holding up his arms in response to the cheers and chants.
"FIGHT!