My School Be Zesty

Mafia Au

Hugh gave out a chuckle. He was wearing a wight blouse, unbuttoned at the top, and black pants. His coat lay on a woman's shoulder, who had her arms around his. To his left, another woman, dazed eyes, leaning on him. Both woman stared at him spitefully. 

What a fuck boy.

Yale rolled his eyes. 

"come on, ya wanna drink?" he tilted his head, sitting up straight. The women beside him let go of him, staring at Yale reproachfully, as if he distrupted a great joy. 

Yale sighed, "No, thank you,"

"Don't be such a purple face, have a drink!" Hugh crossed his arms, smirking at him from a menacing angle. Yale felt sick just by looking at him.

"I'm afraid I've had one too many, and I don't plan on going overboard... you see, I like to take care of myself and my reputation... I'm not immature,"

"What reputation? We're part of the mafia, for christ's sake!" Hugh gave out a hollow laugh. 

"Well, I do... I suppose you don't,"

"So, just because good ol' Yale Irie got himself a big ol' job, he's become a part of a better thing, has he? And poor old Hugh Konran, an immature fuck boy who couldn't possibly inherit the throne, can he?" Hugh got up, walking up to him. He circled around Yale, laughing to himself a bit. 

"Perhaps not," Yale sighed. He wanted to get out of this. He didn't want to deal with this menace, who laughed at him as though he was spouting anything worth listening to. 

Finally, Hugh stopped in his tracks, right in front of Yale, and grabbed his collar, "Listen 'ere, blue scout, you may seem hot, but you don't fool me. Y'ere just a depressed little boy who doesn't know where to run because his daddy's dead!" 

Yale clenched his teeth. It was not worth it, arguing with an idiot.

"Don't fucking say another word or I'll rip your head off," he managed to say though his grinding teeth.

Hugh released his collar, "Just messing with ya, blue boy!"

And with that, he went off.

Oh how he hated that man.

"You took me away and I know I'll be alright now"

Yale was pissed now. He sighed an ordered a drink, sitting back into his chair, watching as the time went by and his friends enjoyed himself even more. He didn't think about Konran, he didn't want to. He was nothing more than a menace. Nothing more than a man who always bit more than he could chew, who stood in the face of god and said 'fuck you,' without thinking about the consequences that could happen after.

God... he was toxic, addicting, a menace that kept Yale up at night.

He knew the effect that he had on him. 

It was twelve o clock and bottles bubbled. Everyone was here for round two. They would part all night and sing at every hour. There was no stopping the folk of the club. 

Meanwhile, Yale's head started to hurt. Maybe it was the sheer intensity of the amount of drinks he had shoved down his damaged throat, or the voices of the others, singing and jolly, that bought this headache upon him.

Or maybe it was-

No. No, it wasn't. 

"Unconsciously a nervous wreck, but constantly above my head"

A lot of people had passed out at this point, but most of them continued, laughing, dancing. Yale rested his eyes a bit, trying not to fall asleep but to stay in the realm inbetween.