Bullyboy Squad
pure of heart, dumb of ass
SCENE THREE
The Fight
Andrew's eyes widened, allowing the bright light to shoot down his rapidly shrinking pupils. A kid. Wave of nausea flooded his body. Naked chest flushed with heat rising up to his neck, reddening his cheeks. A kid.
The winner will get a second chance to prove his loyalty and worth. Begin.
The crowds roared with excitement around the bullpen, with the more savage ones besieging the bars and the privileged hanging out around the VIP seats or by the bar.
But Andrew didn't see. He didn't shift into a fighting stance. He didn't attempt to circle. He just stared at Kenny in disbelief, paralyzed by the horrible idea that those degenerates conceived in their corrupt minds.
"Monsters." His voice was suppressed by the buzzing noise. Until he repeated. Louder. With passion.
"MONSTERS!" Looking at the guards, at the people in the VIP section. His gaze caught the extravagant woman and the pastor by the bar. Then stopped on the hooker and the man in charge in place of the Leader. Andrew didn't know his name but he knew he was the Second in Command of that pseudo army.
"He's just a kid!" He shouted at him. Then snapped his vision to Kenny and shook his head with conviction. "I'm not doing this. I won't fight this boy." Swinging his nearly frantic gaze back to Weston he emphasized. "I will not fight him."
Noise turned into silence that filled the cavernous space. With all the faces turned and eyes fixed on the man in charge.