Beat him up

“My problem is hot chicks like you hang out with assholes like him!” Francis barks. His voice is filled with anger, and a bit of spit comes out as he says it.

“Also,” he adds, “He’s probably gay and just using you as a cover. You’ve ever seen him hang around Buckett Ashland? I mean, if those guys ain’t gay--”

You don’t even know what happened, but the fact is you’ve just walked towards this fatass and gave him the biggest suckerpunch he’s ever recieved. Right on the face. His eye is red as he cowers back and crashes onto the bathroom wall.

Grabbing him by the collar, you raise him up. Your arms are absolutely clenched, and you can feel the heat escaping your face. Your hand hurts, but you ignore that as a drop of sweat climbs down your forehead into your eye.

“Listen hear you fat shit. You’re nothing, ok? Nothing. You better get the fuck out of here before I beat you up so bad you’ll need to go to the hospital.”

He’s crying. Fucking crying.

“I’m so sorry!” Francis whimpers. He can barely manage any words. “I--I’ll leave!”

Francis runs straight for the door, almost slipping on his way out. He’s audibly sobbing right now, and probably his face hurts more than he could ever imagine.

There’s a moment of silence. You hear quick steps running at a distance. You hear tree leaves shuffling. The cold air lingers in your mouth giving you a taste which is a weird mix of cool, fresh air and strong bathroom aromatizer. You can feel your hand now, and it hurts.

Michelle’s face has turned into a darker shade of red, it almost looks black now. She’s staring at you, unbelievably, she’s angrier than what she was before.

“You’re such an… Asshole.”

She takes off towards the hallway as you stand there, dumbstruck.

What the hell just happened?