Chapter 2

21.7K 393 2
                                    

"F*cker! You were the one to strike first. You respond with an undeniable appreciation, as though you perceive your girlfriend's beauty to be truly captivating. Just so you know, it appears that your girlfriend is rather petite, akin to a delicate shrimp." Calven's voice reverberated through the air, a thunderous roar that echoed with a mix of anger and frustration.

His words, sharp as daggers, pierced the silence as he unleashed his fury upon the unfortunate souls who found themselves at the receiving end of his wrath.

No one dared intervene or halt his relentless pursuit. Calven was a familiar face to nearly every patron in the bustling bar.

Kindness is a virtue that begets kindness, a gentle ripple that spreads warmth and compassion. Yet, in the intricate tapestry of human interactions, there exists a contrasting thread: cruelty. When faced with the callousness of another, the scales of kindness tip, revealing the darker shades of our nature.

"This time, it is quite possible that your father's wrath will be unleashed upon you as a result of your involvement in yet another brawl. This will result in your immediate return to prison after you have just been released," Calven's best friend stated to him. "Bro, you need to chill out." Calven's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he dismissively released his grip on the man, allowing him to slip away. With a triumphant grin etched upon his face, he delivered yet another forceful kick to his adversary.

"Tss, thank you; I'm sick of getting arrested every time I leave the house." With one final, resolute kick, he delivered a decisive blow to the assailant, who had been mercilessly pummeling his unfortunate victim. Satisfied that justice had been served, he swiftly departed the dimly lit bar, his loyal companion Jayson Bud Milton faithfully trailing in his wake.

One by one, those obstructing their path departed. In the dimly lit confines of this establishment, there exists a character who has earned a reputation as the quintessential embodiment of malevolence—none other than the so-called "best friend."

Fortuitously, no obstacles impeded their path, for Jayson Bud Milton's parents happened to be the proprietors of the bar.

The staff, with a sense of acquiescence, allowed the two individuals to depart without any further hindrance. They also do not fight if others who will fight beside them do not come first.

"Ah, my dear friend, it is quite fortunate that you did not linger, for had you done so, I too might have faced the wrath of my parents." Jayson chuckled, his words laced with amusement, as he extended his hand towards a cigarette, the two of them strolling towards the parking lot.

As they arrived at the designated parking spot, Calven found himself spitting blood beneath the car. He meticulously adjusted his hair, ensuring that every strand fell into place with utmost precision. As they smoked, the friends leaned against their vehicle.

"He is deserving of it. Is the blame to be laid at my feet for the unexpected advances of his girlfriend?" He pondered aloud, his voice laced with a tinge of uncertainty.

With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved a cigarette, its tip glowing brightly as he brought it to his lips. A cloud of smoke escaped his mouth, dissipating into the air as if carrying away the weight of his question.

His closest companion, a confidant of many years, simply shook his head in a gesture of disapproval or disbelief. A hush fell over them, the stillness broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves in the cool evening breeze. Calven, lost in his own thoughts, found solace in the tranquility of the parking lot. As he savored the crisp air, a flicker of movement caught his discerning eye, drawing his focus away from the peaceful scene before him.

Amidst the swirling tendrils of smoke from his smoldering cigar, a voice called out to Calven, capturing his attention.

There was a woman he knew from the bar who walked up to him. Calven's gaze swept over her, taking in every detail from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. A soft, melodic tune escaped Jason's lips as he pursed them together, creating a gentle whistle that danced through the air. The woman exudes an undeniable allure, her sensuality and allure captivating all who lay eyes upon her.

Insanely To Own YouWhere stories live. Discover now