Hang in there

Leo twirls the empty shot glass in his hand, staring down at the polished bar. His hair was a bit matted, and his hoodie hung loosely on him, looking like he'd slept in it the night before. "Gimme another one, Ron."

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as he cleans some glasses. "Leo, I've only seen you a few times, but I know you don't usually go for the hard liquor."

"Just shut up and give it to me."

Ron shrugs and does as he's asked. Sliding the shot to Leo, his eyes look across the room to where a blonde woman sits on the knee of a man who is the center of attention at a loud table. "Oh, I get it. That your girl?"

Leo scoffs. "No."

"Saw you two together at-"

"She's not my girl!" Leo downs the whiskey, wincing as it burns his throat. "She just... did me a favor."

Ron's eyes widen.

"Not that kind of favor," Leo retorts, going back to his beer. "It was stupid anyway. I don't know what I was thinking." Resting his elbows on the counter, he runs a hand over his face. "Besides, she doesn't really care about me anyway."

"Her?" Ron points.

"No, not her." Leo rolls his eyes. "Just the girl of my dreams who turned out to be a nightmare instead."

"Oh, one of those."

"Look, she's not like that."

"You just said-"

"I know what I said!" Leo shoves his empty beer bottle to the side. "Just stop trying to figure it out... I don't even know the answers. Just... give me another beer."

Ron cocks his head. "You driving tonight?"

"So what?"

Ron frowns.

"Alright, I'll call a friend. Come on. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I empty the bottle."




It wasn't strange to hear shouting, and even a scream now and then. But the chaos that ensued before the race wasn't normal. It was a rough crowd, but violence wasn't something that was tolerated. But tonight - everything seemed to break loose, and for what? Money.

When the shots are fired, everyone scatters. Miles looks around quickly, trying to figure out where it had come from. Like a shockwave, people were spreading out from a point where he could just see Ryan's car.

Shoving against the flow of panicked people, he muscles his way through, finally spotting only a couple people left, kneeling over Ryan's body.

"Ryan!" Miles sprints to the car, sliding down on his knees next to her. "Oh this is not good... Ryan... Ryan, can you hear me? Somebody call 911."

"Dude, you want them here? That's - "

Miles whips around and grabs a guy by the collar. "You call 911," he hisses, "or you're gonna be the next reason the ambulance needs to come."

"Alright, alright!" The young man dials, giving brief directions.

Miles puts pressure to Ryan's wound with his hand. "Come on, Ryan... hang in there."