Post by Oscar Ortega on May 10, 2017 23:55:53 GMT
The night was clear and the moon had risen long ago in the club district. It was nearing 1:00am before Oscar finally walked out of the bar. Sweat lightly covered his face; he had been dancing harder than ever. It was the first time since moving to America. He used the back of his hand to wipe it off the best he could before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cartridge of cigarettes. They weren't as good as the cigars he had been accostomed to smoking, but they would do. Gently putting one between his lips, he striked a match and held it against the cigarette, drawing at it enough to allow it to light.
After waving out the match and tossing it on the ground, Oscar stuck a hand in his pocket and meandered down the back alley of Club Silver. He was told this was the place to be if he loved to dance. But now it was time to go home and make sure his cousin wasn't getting into too much trouble. Home time this early would have earned Oscar ridcule back home, but he had a self-made responsibility here that he wasn't going to break so lightly.
The sound of multiple footsteps and shuffling behind him caused him to grow cautious. He took a drag of his cigarette, listening as they drew nearer. What did they want? Money? To steal his things? Well the fools would be very disappointed to search him only to find cigarettes and some matches in his pockets. Oscar wasn't the richest in the world.
"Hey there, buddy, where you goin'?" It was a man's voice, and he sounded drunk and upset. That caused Oscar to grimace, but he turned around to appraise them. There were three of them. All were dressed similarly in black hoodies and jeans. Typical Americans. Oscar took another drag and remained silent, waiting for them to reveal what they wanted. "You fuckin' took my girl. You stole her from me, bitch. Me and you, were gonna sort it out. Come on."
The man took a step toward Oscar, an act that Oscar thought was an attempt at being menacing, but the man was so drunk it did nothing but make him smirk in amusment. "Go home." He said in a thick, Colombian accent. "Take your friend and go home. I don't know what girl you mean."
After waving out the match and tossing it on the ground, Oscar stuck a hand in his pocket and meandered down the back alley of Club Silver. He was told this was the place to be if he loved to dance. But now it was time to go home and make sure his cousin wasn't getting into too much trouble. Home time this early would have earned Oscar ridcule back home, but he had a self-made responsibility here that he wasn't going to break so lightly.
The sound of multiple footsteps and shuffling behind him caused him to grow cautious. He took a drag of his cigarette, listening as they drew nearer. What did they want? Money? To steal his things? Well the fools would be very disappointed to search him only to find cigarettes and some matches in his pockets. Oscar wasn't the richest in the world.
"Hey there, buddy, where you goin'?" It was a man's voice, and he sounded drunk and upset. That caused Oscar to grimace, but he turned around to appraise them. There were three of them. All were dressed similarly in black hoodies and jeans. Typical Americans. Oscar took another drag and remained silent, waiting for them to reveal what they wanted. "You fuckin' took my girl. You stole her from me, bitch. Me and you, were gonna sort it out. Come on."
The man took a step toward Oscar, an act that Oscar thought was an attempt at being menacing, but the man was so drunk it did nothing but make him smirk in amusment. "Go home." He said in a thick, Colombian accent. "Take your friend and go home. I don't know what girl you mean."