A/N: Thanks to Michelle Maria Salvatore, LocalTalent53, and A Mosaic Masterpiece for your reviews! So, hears the promised Lukas. Also, make sure to read my author's note at the end! On you read!
If there was one thing that Lukas Solveig loved about the rain, it meant that the gym near his house was practically empty. The only ones who hung around were the hardcore constants and those minor wannabe-celebrities who trained for sports, like wrestling or boxing.
Lukas was on neither of these categories. He went to the gym out of habit, as it helped him relieve his everyday exasperations.
Grunting, he lifted the weights above his head as he leant backwards. "99..." Lukas dropped the weights but suddenly caught them, lifting them up again. This helped reaction time as well as actually gaining muscle. "100." Lukas let out a final grunt, before hooking the weights back and sitting up, cracking his back and knuckles.
He had finishing his morning routine, and now Lukas started walking towards the shower. While a lot of people were too modest to show off their muscles, or not modest at all so they showed their muscles all the time, Lukas simply didn't wear a shirt because it was uncomfortable. People were intimidated by him, Lukas knew it, but the fact of the matter was he wanted to be comfy when he was working out.
With his thick muscles, cropped and usually spiky black hair, steely grey cobalt eyes and the pure silver ring on his middle finger, most saw Lukas as a threat and steered clear. While he caught some woman gazing at his muscles, his appearance was just too fearsome to cause any of them to approach.
In the locker room, Lukas changed into a pair of swimming trunks and got under a shower, allowing the water to wash the sweat from his body and reduce the tension. Lukas hated the men who were naked in gyms. Bullshit excuses about 'manly bonding'. Lukas just felt awkward when old men were swinging their bits around as if showing them off for a fucked up competition.
Finishing up, Lukas dried himself off and changed into his usual clothes. A black V neck t-shirt and his normal faded blue jeans, with scuffs and rips around the hems and knees.
Looking at the time, Lukas nodded to himself. 11:00 AM, perfect. Lukas liked to keep times and schedules, and now it was time to head to the bar just opposite the street.
The bar, The Broken Bottle, seemed shady in both look and nature, but inside it was much different than expected. The outside was dark and dull, with misty windows and metal bars. The inside, however, was bright, cheerful and full of enthusiasm. Drinks were cheap but tasty, and it even sold lunches. It was kind of an 'in' joke to the owners about 'don't judge a book by its cover'.
The reason Lukas liked the bar – other than being near the gym – was because of how it seemed to be just like him. The inside was so much better than the out.
Enter The Broken Bottle, Lukas greeted the usual barmen, ordered his usual meal, and sat down at his usual booth in the corner of the room.
At 11:20, his food arrived, and at 11:40, he was done. Lukas was never a quick eater; he liked to take his time to savour the experience, much like everything he did. When he walked, he took in the sights. When he ran, he made sure to keep an even and careful pace. He liked a schedule, and liked to know when things would happen, so he was a very inquisitive young man. Sometimes he chatted to patrons who weren't too scared to come near him.
It was when Lukas headed towards the bar to get a drink that his normal and nice day was about to take a turn for the worse.
"I'll take the usual drink." Lukas said, leaning slightly at the bar.
"Sure thing!" the barman exclaimed happily. He was the most exuberant barkeeper if Lukas had ever seen one.
Lukas backed up and turned around to look at the clock, and completely missed the man behind him. Knocking into the man, beer when both to the floor and into the man's chest. For a moment, the man stood shocked.
"Oh, sorry," Lukas held up his hands. "Let me buy you-" Lukas trailed off as he noticed the man's face. He was way too drunk.
"Buy? I don't want your filthy charity!" The man pushed Lukas, clearly out of it. Lukas stumbled back, his back hitting the solid wood with a thump. "You just knocked my... damn dhrinks over! Mine!"
"Just let me-"
"Sshutup!" The man pushed Lukas again. "You want some of me big boy? Huh? Bring it! I ain't schared of you!"
Lukas put his hands up. "Calm down, just-"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" The man grabbed a glass from the bar and smashed it boldly against the side of Lukas' face. Chips of glass cut into Lukas' cheek.
Those who weren't watching them now were, as the bar drew silent. In everyone's eyes, they saw a clearly drunk man assaulting a much bigger, much more sober man. Most were expectant, wondering when the fight was to get started.
Looking down, Lukas sighed and looked at the barkeeper, who quickly hung up the phone, having dialled the police. "Have you got a mop? Let me clean this-"
"You ignoring me?" The man stepped forward again, but now some of the braver patrons stood up and grabbed his arms, pulling him back.
"Hey, calm down, calm down."
"Sit down, wait for the police."
Lukas touched his check as a police car stopped outside, and marvelled at the quick response. He was always surprised at American services. So much faster than in Russia and Australia.
Soon, the two police officers were in the bar. One was talking to the man, while the other was talking to Lukas.
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yes." Lukas said firmly. "I don't want to press charges. No need to tarnish his record for a silly mishap like this."
"And you don't want the hospital?"
"It's only a few cuts. They'll heal. There isn't any glass in the wounds, besides."
"Okay. Well, if that's all, we'll leave you be."
"Thank you. I'll be going now, anyway." Lukas nodded.
The policeman patted Lukas' shoulder. "You did well. Not reacting. Very brave."
"It isn't bravery. I just don't like to hurt people. I don't like things turning bad..." Lukas closed his eyes, echoes suddenly bursting in his mind.
XXXX
"Môžete si myslel, že tu skrỳvat', Marko?"
"Chápem. Ale nie pred manželkou. Nie pred mojim diet'at'om. "
"Žiadne takéšt'astie."
The sounds of gunfire burst outwards, the sound of bottles breaking and windows smashing. Liquid burst across the floor in bright red while screams filled the room with a chorus.
XXX
'Mother... Father... I know you watch over me... it is time for me to start my new life, I think... tomorrow. This city didn't hold what I need. Perhaps the next will. Mother, father, god bless your souls. D'akujem.'
A/N: It's only ever so slightly shorter due to the fact it initially was meant to combine with Tyrone's.
Also, if you want to know what the rough translations of those language up there is, go to translate(dot)google(dot)com, and translate Slovak to English. You'll get a rough translation of it."
'Till next time!