First of all, thanks for all the comments I got on "My Friend of Misery." I'm so happy that there are people who like it. It means a lot.
Secondly, I finally had an idea that I could put into words! The basis is actually based on a story a friend of mine had told me. I hope you'll enjoy it. :)
Thirdly, in fact, I currently have two ideas in my mind, so you might hear from me sooner this time.
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The concert was wild and crazy—exactly what you'd expect from a kick-ass gig—so I was really proud that the two cups of beer in my hands hadn't ended up on the ground as I'd fought myself through the crowd to get to my boyfriend. James welcomed me with a huge grin on his face as he reached for his cup and took it out of my hand. He shouted a "thank you," and immediately took a huge sip from his drink.
"Fuck yeah," he yelled as he raised his hand with the beer in it. He didn't stop banging his head, his blond mane followed the motion of it, flying wild in the air. I could hear him screaming the lyrics to the song, so I decided to join instead of getting lost in his view. He had that ability of easily distracting me from anything that was going on around me, so I always kind of had to remind myself of my surroundings.
When the band stopped playing, the singer said a few words to the crowd. I considered this a little break, so remembering the beer in my hand, I was about to gulp down some of the cold drink when a huge guy crashed into me, the content of my cup landing on my t-shirt. I was unable to move for a long moment; I stood there completely frozen and gaping—I must've looked like a beached fish. I saw the guy running back to the mosh pit as the next song started without realizing what he'd done, and I also doubted that even if he did, he didn't care. I became so angry, and feeling the wet t-shirt sticking to my body didn't make the situation any brighter. I grabbed James arm to tell him that it was time to go even though I didn't really want to ruin his time, but I definitely wanted to leave the crowd whether with or without him.
He turned his head towards me looking down, his eyes rambling a bit lower, when he finally spotted my beer-soaked t-shirt. At first the view must've tickled his fancy because I caught a faint smile rushing through his face and his eyes lighting up with desire, but as he saw my not so eager countenance, his mouth formed something that had the word "fuck" in it. He most likely also realized that if he liked what he saw, others must've thought in kind. His eyes flashed with ire, then he shoved his hand into his pocket.
"Hold it," he said as he handed me his wallet. "I'll take revenge on those motherfuckers for this." He took a last sip from his beer, then threw the empty cup away. He glanced at me for the last time, then scooted into the mosh pit. I tried to follow him with my eyes, his long blond hair was a little help for a while, but I still managed to lose him quite soon.
When the concert was over, he was still nowhere. My friends convinced me to go back to the car and wait for him there because he'd end up there sooner or later anyway. I tried to keep my cool, but I couldn't stop walking up and down in anxiety. My friends tried to calm me, but I hadn't seen James for over an hour by that time.
"I think that's him," said one of my friends pointing his finger at a figure in the distance.
The smile on my face grew as I recognized him as he gradually got closer to the car. I found it impossible to hold myself back—I started running towards him, and as I got there stopping in front of him, he opened his arms and then quickly closed them tight around me. As I looked up at him, my face suddenly turned into a frown.
"What happened to you?" I cried out in sheer concern, and touched his upper lip that was bleeding. He didn't say a word, just laughed at my hysteric expression.
"Damn, man, what the hell happened to you?" Asked one of our male friends as we approached the car.
"A fucker poured her own beer on her t-shirt," James explained glancing down at me at the last two words. "I took revenge on them," he said. "Just as I said." This last part was specifically addressed to me as he winked at me, and gave a peck on my lips which tasted of his blood.
"But you're bleeding."
"You kidding?" He put his hands in front of his mouth as if he'd been shocked. I gently smacked his arm, but immediately started carefully examining his face.
"You'll have a black eye," I stated.
"Big deal," he shrugged. "I thought they'd broken my nose. It was bleeding really bad," he said pinching his nose. "Now it's only my upper lip." He shrugged again, then put his arm around my waist pulling me closer to his body. "Nobody can fuck with my girlfriend," he said, "but me."