If Only

Chapter Two: The Encounter

I could feel my blood boiling at his arrogance.

"Excuse me? Just because my grandfather passed away doesn't mean this property is up for grabs. And just because it's not legally mine yet doesn't give you the right to vandalize it. It's still private property."

He chuckled, his smirk only growing wider. "You really don't get it, do you? As a registered public artist, I have the right to display my art in all but private establishments. And since this property isn't officially yours yet, it falls under that category."

"Registered artist my ass," I spat out, my eyes narrowing at him. "You're just using that as an excuse to justify your vandalism. And I don't care if you have a card or not. You're still breaking the law by defacing someone else's property."

He shook his head, his gaze still locked on mine. "You're such a buzzkill. Lighten up a little, princess. It's just a little paint."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my anger in check. "It's not just a little paint. It's a violation of my property rights. And I'm not going to let you get away with it."

He shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating me even more.

"Suit yourself. But good luck trying to prove that in court. I doubt anyone would take you seriously, especially with that baby face of yours."

I clenched my fists, the urge to punch him in the face almost overpowering. "I may look young, but I know my rights. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect them, even if it means taking you down."

He just chuckled, his arrogance oozing from every pore. "Yeah, good luck with that. You'll need it." And with that, he sauntered off, leaving me seething with anger and frustration.

The next thing I knew, I was practically on top of him, ready to wipe that stupid smirk off his face and make him pay. I hadn't come all the way down here to be insulted by some clueless man who doesn't know his place. And let me tell you, I am not going down without a fight.

"Why don't you take your disrespectful attitude and get the hell out of here before I call the cops on you, you dirty little slime ball! You are a total ass and you're going to end up behind bars when they get here and throw your sorry ass in jail!!!" I shouted, my voice laced with venom.

I couldn't believe that a girl my age would be bold enough, or maybe just plain stupid, to pick a fight with a grown man who was probably on drugs. But this jerk just looked at me with that stupid, mocking expression on his face.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah..." He raised his hands up, palms out in a fake gesture of surrender that only made me angrier.

"Isn't that a little over the top? A little too inappropriate for a sixteen-year-old to say to a twenty-five-year-old man?" he sneered, messing up my age yet again.

"A twenty-five-year-old man who acts like a complete jerk and doesn't know how to follow the rules. And for the love of God, I am eighteen years old!" I exclaimed, my voice rising even higher as I waved my hands around in frustration.

"You think you know better than me, kid?" he asked, putting his spray paint can away in his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"You're the one who should know better than to break the rules!" I snapped back, my voice escalating to a fever pitch. I was surprised my mother wasn't out here yet. Could she not hear me? I was practically deafening myself with all this shouting.

"There are no rules, kid. And even if there were, I'm not breaking any of them," he said coldly, his voice dropping an octave.

That was it. My blood was boiling over like a pot of hot water, and I was the boiling pot. I had completely lost it.

"Grow up and show some respect! And for God's sake, STOP CALLING ME KID!" I was ready to rip his skin off his face and turn into the Hulk.

"Awe..." he cooed, puckering his lips at me in the most infuriating way. That was it. I had lost every last shred of my childishness. I was ready to pull out my phone and call the cops, but then I remembered I had left it in my mother's bag. He must have seen the sudden shift in my expression.

"What's wrong, kid?"

I didn't want to lose this fight to a stupid vandal, so I played along like I still had my phone in my pocket. Desperate for a distraction, I shouted, "I'll see you in jail, asshole!" I never knew I had so much hate and anger in me until now.

He didn't seem fazed at all, a devious smirk still plastered on his face.

He just stood there, staring at me like he was waiting for me to make the next move. Probably bored of waiting, he said something that made my blood run cold. "I'm always in jail. It's practically my second home now, kid." He even gave me a disgusting wink as he turned to leave.

"You are shameless!" I wanted to say more, but he cut me off as he walked away.

"I've been called a lot worse," he tipped a fake hat and finally left, leaving me to stew.

My jaw practically hit the ground, my face contorted with disbelief and a seething anger that boiled within me. I can't even begin to fathom how he had the audacity to insult me and deface my family's property. I hadn't even met him personally, yet he's already proven himself to be the most despicable person I've ever come across in this world.

The nerve of him to leave the wall in such a state of disarray, with smears of mixed colors of paint forming an obscuring picture. I could feel my blood boiling at the mere thought of him returning to inflict more vandalism just to spite me. And I know he will, the shameless cretin that he is.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down by inhaling the warm air that came with the wind. But the more I thought about it, the more incensed I became. He must pay for his actions, there's no way he can just walk away from the mess he's created. I won't stand for it.