The Cult [h.s]

~four~

I drop my head down a bit, set my phone in the pocket and watch the short guy who is whispering to the one beside him. They had introduced themselves but I didn't pay any attention. As always.

But by the name of my father leaving someone's mouth, my ears perk up. Like they always do.

That guy continues making weird assumptions about the whole incident. 

Shut the fuck up, you don't even know the one-thousandth piece of what you are talking about. I have endured moments like this throughout my life but there has never been a perfect way to cope up with it. So I go by my way, 'the Harry way', which brings me peace.

Anger starts coursing through my arteries and veins, the more they continue talking about my family. Blood is boiling heavily. I try to keep my temper in control. My fists clench automatically and so does my jaw. Someone is going to have a bad night today.

Did I forgot to tell that I have anger issues?

Harry, you need to breath in then breathe out, right through your fucking nose.

Fuck, breathing for me is now more like flaring my nostrils with anger. I clench my hands.

"And see that the old man's son is also not trying to do anything. What a shame," that guy continues whispering glaring suspiciously towards me from the corner of his eye. His friend who sits beside him nudges him to stop but well guess what, he doesn't. He thinks I am deaf or what? He is saying these things right in front of me.

That's it, that is all it takes for me to stand up abruptly from my seat, I put the lit cigarette on the ash tray in front and march towards that bastard. As I approach him, he looks intimidated by my presence. Oh looks like now he remembers about who I am. I stand tall above to which he squirms into his seat.

I grab him by his collar and lift him from his seat and threaten, "wanna say anything more big guy?" All eyes are on us now and I can care less.

That guy's face runs out of colour and he starts staring at me wide-eyed and his lips start quivering.

It boosts my ego knowing that I have this kind of intimidating effect on people. It never goes unnoticed by me the way people act around me.

He squirms in my hold and tries to get out of my tight grasp but obviously fails miserably. He is so short that he is more like a kid, not even hatched from an egg.

Liam comes by my side and pulls me by my shoulder before I do something which will make this guy regret this night for the rest of his life.

Maybe I should do something, that will shut that big mouth of his.

I slam that now terrified man who might be thinking 'he just saw his death' back into his seat. And I walk back to my seat, sitting quietly, I pick up my still lit cigarette, perching it between my lips and look through my phone as if nothing happened less than a minute ago. I would have beaten the shit out of him but I am not in mood today.

I hear Liam warning that guy, "Jake, you better keep that mouth of yours shut. Next time I won't stop him from beating the living shit out of you." Then he comes and sits beside me.

Liam gives me a small smile and I nod towards him in acknowledgement.

Liam is the closest friend I have here. So I know he loves going to clubs. He is not much of a drinker just like me but he enjoys the atmosphere as much as I do.

The club is filled with nostalgic music to which people are grinding against each other on the dance floor. There are half naked women on the stage and on the strip poles. Some are even giving lap dances. Clingy couples are wrapped around each other, making out. In this sweaty atmosphere how can one even think of touching another person.