Stand Out

Chapter two: Confrontations

By: Ambrlupin

Rating: M

Summary: It started out as a dare, then an interest formed, and then an obsession. Now Anthony Higgins will do anything he has to, just to stand apart from all the rest. After all, Mr. Sunshine, a.k.a Matt Conlon, cant ignore him forever...right? SpotRace.

A/N: ahem, yes, yet another Race and Spot fic. I swear, these things aren't planned! Hehehe, anyway, I hope you all like this, cause im having a lot of fun writing it!

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"Uh..." Race nearly stumbled on that last step forward, but recovered fairly quickly, and leaned on the bar next to the other, 'I'm Anthony Higgins, but my friends call me Race."

The other's eyebrow rose a little, "Yeah? So what do you want me to do about it?"

Mouth nearly falling open, Race mentally groaned. Figures he would have to be the one to deal with Mr. Sunshine, for the next, oh, four and a half minutes. "I was just...trying to be polite, thats all."

"Polite? Ha!" He took a swing of his drink, "What is polite, do you know? Polite is a word that can mean so much. You can ask personal questions and claim it was simply polite."

"I wasn't-"

"Or you can claim to just being 'polite' and talk to someone who obviously doesn't want to talk to you." He snapped, eyes flashing.

"Hey!" Race cried, hands clenching into fists, "Look here, buddy. I don't know what your problem is, but it aint my fault. I just came over here to talk to you because you were by yourself, and I was being nice." And you are hot, but that's moot now. "So stop taking your stress out on me! I aint the one who stuck a stick up your butt!"

He knew the five minutes were up, but even if they weren't, he wasn't going to stay and talk to a complete jerk either. That was just plain stupid, and he turned on his heel to go. The guys had to have seen how he had been treated, they'd understand.

"Matt." He said suddenly, "Its Matt."

"What?" Race turned, slightly surprised. "What was that?"

"You wanted to know my name. Its Matt."

He blinked, still slightly stunned. "And you're telling me, why?"

Matt threw back his drink, tossing a few dollars in change onto the bar. "Well, for one, you intrigue me. Not many people have the guts to talk to me like that." He got up and threw a black leather jacket over his shoulders, shrugging into it. "And second, it wasn't five minutes yet."

Race was, needless to say, struck speechless. All he managed was a weak, "Huh?"

"Do you do everything your friends tell you to do, Anthony Higgins?" He asked softly as he passed, leaning down to whisper in his ear, his breath hot on the other's skin before he flashed him a smirk and walked out the door, easily disappearing down the stairs and onto the dance floor.

Race's mouth literally fell open, eyes wide as he just stood there, arms slack at his sides. His mind was tumbling in and over itself, trying to keep up with the recent events. It was so crazy in his head, all he could manage to think was a jumbled, and confusion ridden:

What the heck had just happened?

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A young man sat on the steps outside of the local bank, tapping out a beat with his fingertips. He was on break now, but in a few he would have to go back in and deal with the drunks that came in trying to steal from them.

In other words, a typical weekend night.

"David?"

Looking back, the young man was surprised to see his friend and coworker there. "Chase." He greeted with a small smile, "What are you doing out here?"

"What are you?" Chase came down the steps to lean on the stone wall. "I thought you were working tonight."

"Break." He explained with a shrug, "Its actually been quiet. Probably because you weren't here." The teasing came natural, especially after having worked so long together.

You see, Chase Donnovan was one of the rising studs of the city, especially this last year. Rich, handsome, and entirely too single for the female population to handle, Chase was always seen on the covers of magazines, on television, and talked about frequently on gossip lines.

But he didn't like, or even want the attention. It was just a part of who he was, or rather, who his parents were. The Donnovans were wealthy aristocrats, always traveling, always donating money to the various organizations they supposedly 'appreciated'.

Which was one of the reasons why he tried to be as low key as possible, working at a local bank, for example, going to an average college for another. He wasn't one of those people who relished in the money, and indeed, he had told David, on more than one occasion, that he just wanted to be a normal kid, whose childhood did NOT include regular trips to Europe for visits with other rich family members.

And so, David treated him like just another kid.

"Ah, I see." He chuckled, "So its my fault Danny thought he could get some more cash by coming in here last week with a carrot in his pocket?"

David was quick to join in the laughter. "Apparently he thought it looked close enough to a gun." His hand strayed to his pocket and started to flip his cell phone into the air absently. God, he wanted to call Jack.

Chase looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, "Don't burst a kidney, man. Just call."

Grinning, and thanking God above that he had such a wonderful and all-knowing friend, he instantly flicked it open and pressed speed dial. He waited with baited breath, until the ringing stopped.

"Hello Davey."

"Hi Jack!" He literally melted into a puddle of mush, which Chase mimed cleaning up with the edge of his shirt. "How is the clubbing going?" He asked while swatting the rich one away with one hand.

"Its going okay..." There was laughter from the other end, and a few teasing voices he could recognize as Blink and Mush. "We got Race to talk to a hot kid at the bar."

"Really? How did you ever manage that?"

There was a slight static and muffled noises to which David raised his eyebrow up to his hairline. Suddenly, Mush's voice came over the phone. "Hiya Dave! How's Hell?"

Snickering, he shook his head. "A little less hotter than normal, but otherwise, its still as bustling as usual. Lucifer is here, by the way."

Mush laughed, "Tell him I said hi."

Turning his head, David smiled, "Mush says hi, Chase."

Rolling his eyes, he held out his hand for the phone. "Mushy! How ya been?" He chuckled, "Naw, I aint workin' tonight... Just on my way through..." His face scrunched up, "No...Blink, I cant come pick you up...no, no im not driving the convertible..."

David rolled his eyes, "Can I have my boyfriend back now, please?"

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Jack stifled a laugh as he got his phone back, but before he could say anything, Race's voice got louder and he was half-way yelling at the hot guy. Mush and Blink's mouth fell open and he stiffened in alarm, almost expecting a fight to break out.

"Jack, is that Race? What's wrong?" David's voice was full of static, as well as concern.

"I dunno, Davey...I'll have to talk to you later..." He managed to murmur as Race spun on his heel to leave. But for some reason, he hung back, looking a little startled.

"Okay, um.." The other sounded a little sad, but he shook it off. "I guess I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah." He was distracted, trying to make out what they were saying over the hum of television and music from downstairs. "Whenever."

"I hope everything is all right. I love you, Jack. Be careful."

"Yeah. Bye." And he hung up, leaving David blinking shocked and hurt eyes at the phone in his hands, the silence deafening to his ears.

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Race was literally seething as they made their way downstairs after about an hour had passed, and he was thoroughly, albeit not happily, drunk. He was still a little steamed about the earlier problem, and even the many rounds of drinks couldn't get that man out of his head.

But he was long gone by now, so there wasn't much to worry about. No, the worrying would come later, when he saw him again, and punched his lights out. No one made a fool of him like that, although, it was a little rude of him to use him like that.

But then again, he had been rude right back, which wasn't right either. Therefore it all evened out in his opinion. And his opinion was all that mattered. Honestly, why would a person do that? All he wanted was to have a nice five minute conversation, but the minute he had gone over there...

Grumbling, he pushed his way through the dancers, not really caring whom he moved aside. He just wanted out! He slid in between a group, snapping a sharp, "Move." and attempted to keep on walking, but a hand grabbed his arm.

"An 'excuse me' would be nice." Matt drawled. "Or perhaps you do not have even a shred of manors?"

Red, hot fury tore through him and Race felt his hands clench into fists. He knew he was drunk, knew he probably should not be fighting in such a state, but in the end, the world narrowed down to just the two of them, and there was no going back. In a split second, he had slammed him into a nearby wall.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again." He hissed, hands clutching at the other's jacket as he held him there.

Matt's eyes narrowed dangerously, voice soft. "You don't know who you're dealin with, kid."

"Oh yeah?" Race smirked in a very un-Race like way. "Betcha I do. Im dealin with a child, a brainless baby whose parents-"

CRACK!

Stumbling backwards, Race was dimly aware of voices, but he couldn't seem to quite make out the words, much less understand them over the haze in his mind. The world turned upside down, and the only thing that kept him from falling over backwards were the hands on his arms.

After a slight wave of panic, Race managed to make out that it was Jack who had grabbed him, Jack who was lowering him gently to the floor, and Jack who was trying to speak to him, although nothing was getting through.

It was like the world had gone mute. Thankfully, however, it only lasted for a minute.

"Tony, answer me!" The shout herald his return into the land of sound, and he realized, with a pang of shock, that his friend was on the verge of complete panic. "Tony!"

"Shuddup, Francis." He muttered, hardly more than a whisper, "I can hear ya."

"You weren't answering me!"

"I couldn't hear much of anything a moment ago...the room was spinning.." He moaned, suddenly realizing that the room had yet ceased to stop spinning. It was making him sick, but right now there was something more pressing on his mind. Like what had happened.

He got that answer soon enough.

"You could have KILLED him!" The voice belonged to Blink, who burst from the hold Mush had on him, and leapt across the still dance floor - when had that happened? - and slammed his fist into Matt's jaw with enough force to make him stagger slightly.

"He insulted my family." Matt growled, holding his face.

"I don't care if he killed them, that is no excuse for you to seriously hurt him!" Blink's temper was unmatched once it got going, and Race winced inwardly. The other had been getting some help on it, but so far there hadn't been much in results. Apparently.

But it would seem, that this time, Blink had gone too far.

Matt turned his head slowly, eyes frozen. "What did you just say?" In a second, Blink was facing a gold tipped cane, held tightly in the other's grip, "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!"

Race didn't even know how he got past Jack, or past Mush for that matter, but suddenly he was in-between them, back to Matt as he looked up into Blink's eyes. "Drop it, Ryan. Let's just go home, all right?" Already the bouncers were on their way, but they had to get through all the onlookers first, which bought them a little time. "Its not worth-"

Almost immediately, both started to argue, grating on the Italian's last nerve. Pain flashed through his skull on more than one occasion before he figuratively put his foot down. Loudly. "I SAID DROP IT!"

Spinning on Blink, he got right into his face, "Ryan Ballat, you are going to go with Mush, and get in the car, before I strangle you!" He blinked a moment before nodding. Race was scary when he was angry, and this time, he was a tad bit beyond that.

"And YOU!" He rounded on Matt this time, "You are going to get out of here."

When he didn't move, Race crossed over that last line, inches from his face. "I meant NOW."

They glared at each other in silence, tense and palpable, before Matt snorted and tucked his cane back into the inner lining in his jacket, spinning on his heel. "See you around, Higgins." He said airily, as if nothing had even happened.

"You even come near him again, and ill murder you." Blink's eyes blazed, even as Mush laid a hand on his arm, drawing him back toward the front entrance. "That's a promise."

For a moment, Matt paused. "Keep talking like that, and you wont be there to protect him."

"Is that a threat?"

"No." He glanced back, so that only his profile was shown, with strands of his cinnamon hair falling over that one vivid silver-blue eye. "That's a promise."

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