song : Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys
tw : violence & weapons
~ Alejandra ~
I ignore Louis that follows behind because I'm too busy studying him.
The boy staring back at me is a few inches taller than Antonio and Chris. His hair is short enough that his beanie covers it, and his face has more definition.
His jaw.
His nose.
His eyes.
I don't let my eyes linger on his face for long before I let out an amused scoff. "Is that what you were doing on your phone Chris?"
I turn my body towards the boy still leaning on the fence behind him. "Can you not make any decisions without permission?"
I fake pout at him in an attempt to rile him up.
And it works.
His face hardens as he stands straight, off the fence, stepping closer to get in my face while Antonio backs off to give him his turn.
Maybe it's the adrenaline rush or my stupidity but oddly, I don't feel any fear as he steps to me.
I stay right where I am and continue to push him.
"What?" I ask with a tip of my head, pleased with myself for taking back the power. A grin appears on my face while my satisfaction grows with it.
That only makes Chris angrier.
"Fuck you." He spits in attempt to take back control. I simply eye him up and down.
"Nah." I look back at his angry eyes before smiling once more. "You're not my type."
Before he has a chance to retaliate, Gabriel cuts in.
"Enough." He states boredly.
Chris looks at him then back at me. Gabriel's statement alone prompts him to settle down and reclaim his leaning position on the fence.
I turn back around to face him. "Keep your bitches in line so I don't have to check 'em."
"You sure do got a mouth on you," begins Louis from behind him. "So why don't you check that before you speak again."
He too inches closer to me and it's then that I realize I'm surrounded by all four of them.
I'm starting to think this was a bad idea.
Still, against my better judgment, I continue to push, huffing out a short breath through my nose before taking the cash out of my back pocket to show.
"All I was trying to do was give your boys their business. But instead, they wanted an issue."
Gabriel looks at the money held between my middle and pointer finger and then back at his boys. They look worried as Gabriel sends them an annoyed glare.
"Either way," He begins again as he steps closer with his hands in his pockets. "Watch your mouth when speaking to us. Your confidence must come from your lack of knowing who we are."
I chuckle, almost amused by his confidence.
"I know exactly who you fools are and who you belong to." I look at all four of them to gauge a reaction before redirecting my attention to Gabriel.
"I just don't give a shit."
We are a safe enough distance apart which seems to calm my racing pulse. My demeanor doesn't give it away though.
If anything, I seem just about as calm as they are.
He looks down and lets out a short breath through his nose, almost like a laugh. His posture and face, on the other hand, tell a different story.
He's calm.
Too calm.
He moves slowly towards me and I fight the urge to back away. Hands still in his pockets, eyes trained on me, he proceeds to take his time inching closer to me.
In complete silence.
Once he's too close for my liking, I take the smallest of steps back. I guess it wasn't small enough cause it causes Chris to shift off the fence from behind me and step to the side.
Without moving my head, I shift my gaze to my left towards Antonio. The look on his face is completely different from mine.
He looks nervous for me.
Then glancing at Chris to my right, he looks like he wishes he could be in Gabriel's place.
I look back in front of me to Gabriel who finally breaks the silence when he and I are toe-to-toe.
"You should."
At this point he's so close that I forgot what I had said to prompt his response.
"I should what?" I ask, keeping my voice leveled to hide the uneasiness I feel about forgetting what he said.
That and the intensity of his proximity.
He tips his head to the side by less than an inch while he removes his hands from his pockets. I eye his moments calmly but cautiously, still keeping a hold on my breathing.
Finally, his hands are at his sides, taking a long metal object out in the process.
Meeting his eyes again, he amusingly raises a brow and presses a small button on the side of the metal. A click sounds and a blade appears from it.
A knife.
"You should give a shit." He responds in a low tone.
I force slow, deep breaths through my nose to avoid looking as scared as I feel. But while I'm focusing on my breathing, he takes the opportunity to step closer.
Then, everything happens in a second.
I'm shoved up against the wiring by two strong arms. His forearm is placed against my collarbone, keeping me against the fence, and the other holding the blade to my cheek.
The cool metal on my skin causes my movements to still, instead of fighting back.
I don't need this thing poking my eye out if I try to move the wrong way.
My breathing quickens along with my pulse, simply triggered by his proximity.
He's way too close.
I couldn't care less about the knife, but I know if he were to try to touch me in another way, his hand holding me steady already dangerously close to grabbing my chest, his boys wouldn't stop him.
That's worse than any weapon.
He picks up on my fear, only he misinterprets the cause of it.
"What? Scared of this little thing?" He taunts, gesturing towards the sharp edge caressing my cheek.
I don't tell him I'm more afraid of his body than his blade.
It'll only make this worse.
So instead, I close my eyes briefly and take one deep breath through my nose before opening my mouth again to continue with my two themes of the day.
Stupidity and self destruction.
"Use it."
His face doesn't change, nor does his body language, but something in his eyes tell me he wasn't expecting that answer.
Knife still to my face, he stands there keeping me trapped against him. "What?"
My fingers tangle around the wires as I begin to grip the fence, hard.
"Use. The fucking. Knife." I state slower.
His eyes search my face as if looking for my motive and then stop right above my left eye.
He's looking at my scar.
While he's distracted, my eyes flick over his shoulder towards his friends who are exchanging glances with one another.
They look more confused than anything.
"What? Scared to use that little thing?" I ask, throwing his words from a moment ago back at him.
I don't doubt he'd use it, but something tells me that wasn't his initial plan.
"I won't repeat this to you again." He begins, ignoring my statement and meeting my eyes once more. "Don't step to me or any of my guys again."
His tone is completely confident as if he was completely prepared for me to nod and run. That cocky tone of his by itself has my knuckles white from gripping onto the fence so hard.
I can't give him the satisfaction.
"I'm not scared of you or your guys." I copy his cool tone and look him dead in the face.
It's true. I'm not.
We look at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither of us willing to cave. That's when the pressure of the blade begins to increase against my face and I feel a sting along my cheek.
The most of a reaction I give is a small twitch of my lips at the feeling.
I've taken beatings worse than this.
But Gabriel isn't looking at my reaction. His undivided attention is on the cut he's creating.
His features don't change as his eyes are trained on the knife he's pressing to my face, showing absolutely no feeling about watching me bleed, let alone about being the one causing the injury.
But there's something in me that wants him to crack and a smile grows on my lips at his actions.
"Go on." I taunt. "Teach me a lesson."
He doesn't meet my eyes as the pressure of the blade deepens, creating nothing more than a stinging sensation.
"Prove that you're nothing more than any other wannabe gang banger on the Lower East Side."
He doesn't look distraught at my words. He doesn't even really look like he cares. That is until he speaks.
"Oh, but I'm not." He denies with a certain level of amusement in his tone. As if he's saying he's not because he's better.
Better because he's worse.
That stinging on my face has disappeared. I cant tell if it's because he stopped applying pressure or I just cant feel it anymore, but either way it doesn't matter.
I'm still not done pushing him.
"So who taught you to be like them?" I ask.
His jaw tightens while I look at him, trying to find my angle.
"Mom?" My question suddenly has his breathing deepen and jaw tighten, telling me I'm getting warmer.
"Dad?" I ask, this time in a lighter tone.
That's when he takes his arm off my chest and moves it to my scalp, yanking my hair back. His other hand moves the knife from my cheek to my throat.
I pout at him. "Pobrecito."
He doesn't share in my lighthearted energy.
"Watch yourself."
He holds up the knife for me to get a look, the edge of it smeared with my blood. "Or next time, I'll make sure you bleed out."
I glance at the weapon before meeting his eyes once more. He makes no attempt to move away from me and it takes me a second to realize it's cause he's waiting for my response.
He's waiting for the confirmation that he won.
I know this is going to be the last encounter I intend on having with him but something about his threat brings a small smile to my lips.
"I look forward to it."
He eyes my smile for a second longer than he probably intended because when he meets my eyes again, the look in his changes into something strange.
I try figuring it out but my attention is brought to the sound of the retracting blade as he slips it back into his pocket and backs away from me.
The lunatic doesn't even spare me a glance as he calmly turns around and walks back into the building.
The other three eye me with confusion before following Gabriel back inside, leaving me in my prior stance against the fence with a bleeding face and racing pulse.
What the fuck did I just do?
I don't move. Not off the fence, not to inspect my face. I'm not even in a state of shock. All I feel right now is confusion.
After taking a few deep breaths, I rethink everything that has happened in the last five to ten minutes.
Did I really just tell the gang member with a blade to my face to slice me?
The sound of the words that came out of my mouth moments ago replay in my head, and I can't help the shaking that takes over my shoulders.
I start laughing. And I mean laughing.
My shoulders shake as giggles erupt from my mouth and I slide down the fence, onto the ground. Holding my knees to my chest, I put my head down on them, trying to control myself.
Tears begin to form as I pick my head back up to try to regulate my breathing.
From across the yard, two girls stare at me with concern and then exchange glances with one another. It simply makes me laugh harder.
My giggles turn to full blown cackles.
My eyes shut tight against my dampening cheeks and my hands let go of my knees as I let them flatten against the concrete to clutch my aching stomach.
I just tried to buy drugs and then told the guy with the knife to slice me.
I can't even help the laughter at this point.
Opening my eyes, I try taking deep breaths and I see the girls from across the yard getting up to leave. As they walk towards the door, they turn their heads to look at me with even more concern than before.
Then, they disappear back into the building.
My smile hasn't left my face but I've managed to turn cackles into chuckles, realizing this probably isn't as funny as I think it is.
My hand lifts to wipe the tears from my eyes, my cheek stinging at the contact. Taking the pad of my middle finger, I lightly tap against the wound and inspect my finger, now stained with my blood.
How lovely.
Finally being back to my sane mind, - well, as sane as I normally am - I get up and walk to the end of the yard where I left my bag, ignoring the staring of my peers as I pass them.
If they saw that whole thing, they sure as fuck weren't of any help.
I bend to grab my bag and head back inside, totally willing to act like none of that just happened.
Next time, I'll get drugs from somewhere else.