Devil On Both Shoulders [Calum Hood]

Chapter 12

Saying the pub was rough, was a massive understatement, as Michael opened the door a glass smashed against it, and the remains clattered against the floor.

"What the f-....Who threw that?" I yelled, gathering the attention of approximately no one.

"You wanted to come, here we are," Michael smirked. I just as tall as him, so there was no height discrimination going on and he couldn't look down on me.

"Cool," I shrugged, walking further into the pub. "They look nice." I commented, pointing my head towards a group of heavily tattooed men all huddled around one table.

"Well they're not. Come on let's sit over here." Michael said, but it was too late because I'd made myself rather comfortable with the men.

I believed that you shouldn't judge people on how they looked. Those men could've been the best people in the world and I wouldn't have known because I didn't sit with them. So I had to take my chances.

"Hello, boys." I greeted them with a huge grin on my face. "What we playing? Snap?"

They all turned and stared at me, looking extremely unimpressed. A huge man with a curly beard spat on the floor.

I frowned, "That wasn't very nice."

Nobody said anything as I smiled again, tapping my nails against the table.

"You don't get off this table in five seconds, and I'll shove my fist down your throat." The large male growled.

I raised my eyebrows, staring down at my hand.

One

Two

Three

I looked up at him, "Would you take your rings off first?"

He jumped across the table and grabbed me, bringing me, and the table, down to the ground.

He was on top of me, and he lifted his fist to punch me, but I got a hold on his wrist and flipped us over.

I kept my grip on his wrist as I stood us up and brought his hand up towards his neck. He bent back in pain and tried to break free from my grasp.

"Wait for it," I whispered into his ear, letting a large grin spawn across my face as I heard a disgusting cracking noise emerge from his bones.

"Snap."  With that one word, that I was very proud of myself for thinking of, I let the brawny man slump onto the cold, wooden ground in his own defeat.

I wasn't sure whether I'd actually broken his arm, or either fractured it at that matter. But I didn't care, the adrenaline sparking through my veins was too captivating to render me the slightest bit bothered.

I turned to the remaining people in the group of men, they'd already lifted up the table into it's (somewhat) original position. But none of them said anything, and I failed to read their facial expressions.

"Anyone else want to play?" I asked, rhetorically.  As much I wanted to feed my energy by getting in another fight (typical) - I really needed to be getting back to Michael - wherever he was.

I saw a cigarette hanging limply in the mouth of one of the scrawnier men, and decided to do the unthinkable. I snatched the cigar from between his thin, tired lips and popped it amongst mine.

I'd saw my mum do this a lot, and I'd also seen it on Conoration Street, so I wasn't a complete stranger to the methods of the cigarette.

I drew the stick out from my mouth and let the smoke escape my lips, inhaling the contents.

My attempts to look like a badass dramatically faltered, I yanked the cigarette out of my mouth and hurled it across the room like a dart.

I began coughing rather violently. "Oh, that's disgusting." I choked

Due to my horrendous coughing and spluttering, I eventually had to sit down on the floor, holding the table to prevent myself from dying as my coughing got louder by the second.

"Bloody hell," I croaked, but was interrupted by the sound of my throat being cleared once again. "Where the hell is Michael?"

Conviently, Michael came into my vision, as he strod towards me with a large beer and a pink drink. The pink liquid was enclosed in a quite extravagant wine glass, and it had a plastic flamingo on a stick and an umberella poking up from the surface.

I leapt up and grabbed the beer before he could even say anything.

"Thanks, pal; you're a life-saver," I breathed in gratitude and downed the pint, which almost immediately silenced my coughing.

"Um, actually Max-" Michael began, but cut himself off.

So the beer was Michael's.

"Well I'm sorry, didn't want the fact that I was dying to interrupt your alcholic prowess."

"What the hell happened here?" He asked, gesturing to the large man on the floor.

"I got into a fight, but I promise it was completely provoked." I explained briefly.

Michael chuckled, "Bullshit, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" I whined, feeling my excitement die down. "I wanna go home." I groaned, resting my head on Michael's chest, having to bend down the slightest bit.

"Aw," He laughed. "I think we'll stay here for a bit longer."

"No..." I complained. Okay, I was being really whiny, but I'd just gulped down a full pint of beer in 4 seconds flat and was starting to get a headache. Could you blame me?

"Come on, there's a table over there-" Michael carried on speaking, but I couldn't hear him, I wasn't listening.

Because scanning through the crowds I saw a hoodie, an all too familiar hoodie. And beneath the hoodie...

I saw Calum.