The Fingersmith [A One Direction Fanfiction]

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Last Call for Redemption

[A/N] OKAY!  So hellooooo chickadees and new readers!  Like I said I would- here's another chapter!  Woooooot!  It's nice and long, and is decievingly slow in the begining.  Just you wait though, do things change up fast or what!  :)  

PLEAAASSSEEEEE, comment.

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Love you all!

~Charliegirl

Liam:

“Come on!”  “Get in there!”  “Don’t waste our time –bloody idiot!” Shouts resounded from down below.  The giant room was crowded and bustling with wealthy and shady looking characters all milling about, plus a few girls without much clothing on and a few neatly dressed people running about selling drinks.  I was being elbowed, squeezed past and separated from the lads at least once every minute.  The layout of the room was a bit bizarre. 

You had the bottom floor, concrete and grey, with a giant well, cage, in the middle, with a bunch of people pushing in around it, then literal bleachers of sorts about twenty feet back from that.  Then there was the second floor, the one I was on, it wasn’t a whole floor, it was just like a very large hallway with a railing to keep you from falling thirty feet onto the concrete. 

It went all the way around the building though, and even had a stairway that was about as safe as the fire escape that was on Em’s old building.  Up here were a few more distinguished looking characters, a very round man shouting out numbers- probably bets, and with at least four girls hanging onto to him in one place or another.  A very tall thin man with part of his nose missing in an all black suit, who was leering down at the throng around the cage and the fight inside with disdain. 

Down below seemed to be another class of people.  There wasn’t waiters walking around offering drinks, there were hands holding beers and six packs, and bumping into each other on a trashier and more rambunctious level.  It was as if the person who designed the space knew exactly how it would be used and divided once left to the mess of humanity.

The wealthy and powerful sat up high looking down at the dirty masses as they screamed and beat the crap out of each other.  And the confused left over bits like me and the lads, who had on glasses, scarves, and were otherwise discreet, well, we were left to find our own place amidst the chaos.  Getting in hadn’t been hard.  Honestly it took only one thing; money. 

Once Louis threw a considerable amount at the men at the door, their attitude changed completely.  Instead of glowering at the immature punks who want to run with the big crowd, they were smiling and nodding to the rich immature punks who would blow their money as they tried to play at being cool. 

In truth, I might have considered going to a place like this on a dare for that very reason, but only after I’d had a few and was out of sorts.  Right then the only reason I was in there was because I had befriended a kleptomaniac, violent and manic sociopath.

“Do you see her?”  Niall asked, pushing out to stand where I was by the railing, looking down into the crowd with a very uncomfortable and worried expression.  I peered into the crowd, some how I doubted Em would be somewhere like that when there were so many less obvious places to stand.  She liked to distance herself like that, unless being close was a confrontation.