Young But Real (5 YA Short Stories)

The Angel Is A Slut

"Marc." I put my phone on speaker while getting the usual white shirt, black jeans, and leather jacket from the built-in wardrobes.

"Dude, your girl is here in the Metro Bar. Guess who's with her?"

"Who?"

"Fucking James Biggs!"

"Jacob's brother?!" I freeze and worry travels into my body.

"Check his IG and get your ass over here bef–"

I quickly open my instagram which doesn't have any posts, but with thousands of followers, mostly girls. I type faster to search for James' account. My hand grips the phone tighter when I see a photo of him kissing my angel's neck.

Asshole.

My anger boils down when my gaze moves to Mikayla's blank and distant expression. She's like a robot who tilted her head to accommodate him.

What are you doing, Angel?

I wear my clothes in record time. I run out of my room as fast as I can, ignoring my Mum who asks where I am going. I put on my helmet and speed up from the driveway.

I try to focus on the road, almost beating the red light. I stay in the bike lane as much as possible, trying not to think of what James is doing to Mikayla. I usually take twenty minutes to reach the Metro Bar, but I arrive in just ten minutes.

"Johnny, how are you?" I greet my classmate in mixed martial arts who works as a security officer in this bar.

"Good. Usual?" asks Johnny, eyeing the folded scooter in my hand. I nod. "Just leave it here."

"Thanks, man." I pat his shoulder before making a beeline for the bar, but Mikayla isn't there nor any of the Black Coast gang members.

I look around the crowd who are dancing in the middle, no luck. I walk towards the couches, but no Mikayla as well.

"Dude, finally you're here," Marc says, nudging my shoulder.

"Where are they?" I nod at the four other White Coast gang members, standing behind Marc, when they say, Hello boss.

"In the private lounge, second to the right. We'll be here in case you need a backup."

I stride towards the hallway that leads to the private lounges. My heart sinks when I find her sitting on James' lap while his head is buried in her neck and running his hand on her exposed thigh. Her face is still stoic, staring blankly at the table. My gaze roams on the guys around them, specifically, the guy in front of them who's spiking a drink then gives it to her. Evil smiles are painted on the bastards' faces.

"What the fuck Mikayla!" I shout when she accepts the drink even though she knew the guy doped it.

Everyone snaps their heads in my direction. I don't give a damn if I look like a raging bull.

I am angry, very angry.

I grab the drink from her hand and throw it at the guy who spiked it. Lucky for him, he's able to dodge it, but the red liquid spills to his pants in his groin. The glass shatters on his feet. Record-breaking curses erupt from his filthy mouth.

"Jarrod fucking Hankin," the asshole says," so Jacob is right. This slut is your girl. She tastes so good and enjoys my kisses, right baby?" He's about to cup her face when I pull her away from him.

"Ouch! My arm!" Mikayla says in a pained voice.

"I'm sorry, Angel." I loosen my hold on her wrist and bring her behind me.

Before James can react, I stride forward. I grip the collar of his shirt, lift him up, and push him back on his seat as hard as I can. He bounces like a pig on the well-cushioned couch. "Don't you dare call her a slut and touch her again."