54. Fight Club

**Emara Stone**

What in the mac and cheese he brought me to? I can't believe he took me to a stupid fight club with his ducklings. *Terrible idea for a first date.*
My heart rattles in my ribs as I look around frighteningly. Vehicles and vehicles are parked in a line as if we entered a forest themed car showroom.
People are following one after another like ants to the main entrance of what looks like an old warehouse. "Do you think he would have come?" Mendes asks somewhere from behind.
Silence percolates in the car. Ryan rubs his index finger on his plum lips as he continues to stare at the dim light of the entrance. Blue light from the dashboard falls on his front page of the magazine face and I feel my stomach swimming inside of me.
*This bitch is so pretty!*
Ryan's gaze slowly shifts to me. I find my confidence shutting down as he looks deep into my puppy eyes. A wolfish grin dances on his sinful lips as he whispers darkly, "He will come."

*It's night, it's true.*
*The light is blue.*
*I am here new.*
*So he is who?*

I jump in surprise as suddenly Ryan's phone rings. He lazily picks it up and takes his time to listen to the person on the other side of the phone, all while staring at me. I gulp nervously as I watch his pointed Adam's apple bobbing up and down while he speaks, "Yea, I am coming."
*Cumming?*
I squirm on my seat feeling the crush anxiety kicking in. Bitch, breathe in, breathe out.
Ryan looks back at his piglets and gives them a short nod. Like a virtual mind link, they all nod back and open their doors in unison. I watch them in awe as they all walk out of the car at the same time like filthy rich people in movies.
*Oh shit! I am late.*
I walk out of the car last, feeling highly tiny and invisible in between them. Ryan leads the way to the warehouse and we silently follow him like a pack of wolves.
*Am I part of the group now?*
I cover my head with the hoodie, hiding my infamous hair and face as I follow their steps into the dark. Cutting the line, Ryan directly walks up to the two hefty men dressed up in black clothes who are stopping everyone for identification.
My feet halt and I look up from my hoodie as we get stopped suddenly. "Password." The man with a thick nose and thicker lips asks the invincible dark prince.
Ryan frowns, eyeing the man with a hostile gaze as he grits slowly, "I rock... And you suck." I take a silent gasp of inspiration as I witness the coolest thing of my whole flushing life. *This is it.*
The words go on repeat mode in my head as my hidden composer rises from somewhere beneath me and in a minute I compose a billboard hit song.

*I rock... You suck.*
*Daniel is an ugly duck,*
*Shawn a broken truck,*
*Mendes is goo goo muck,*
*Ryan a sizzling hot fuck.*
*Who sees me like a junk.*
*But I'll prove to this punk,*
*I am the hottest monk,*
*That he has ever put in his trunk.*
*Fuck you, good luck!*

The dark man nods and opens the door to let us pass. There is only a small bulb on the top that continues to flicker like it is possessed as we enter an empty passage. My eyes run through the torn roof and stained walls, wondering how this decayed place is still standing.
My heart dips in my chest as I feel the thumping sound resonating from the rotten walls while we follow Ryan deeper into the barren warehouse.
My feet begin to quiver as the throbbing sound increases, beating through my chest as we halt in front of a large wooden door. Words were carved on it but due to the dim light, I couldn't figure it out.
Ryan pushes the gate and a loud roar rumbles, shaking my skeleton to bones. My mouth falls open as I see numerous heads bumping in the air, all looking and cheering at the leveled stage in front of them.
"Make some noise, motherfuckerrrrrs!"
The crowd roars anomalistically as a middle-aged man in a silky black robe with golden borders climbs up the stage. His face looks pious, but his eyes look barbaric while he watches the crowd going crazy.
"Rule number one!" The man whispers through the mic.
"You do not talk about the fight club." People stink like asses as they speak in unison, bouncing their sweaty bodies in the air. Now that I notice, none of the heads have hair longer than the shoulders. They all are dicks.
"Rule number two."
"YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT THE FIGHT CLUB." The crowd yells and screams uncontrollably. Fear begins to percolate in my chest as the loud growling sound passes through me like arrows.
"Rule number three." The man raises his index finger in the air saying, "No tickling or pinching during the fight."
"Rule number four." A sadistic smile appears on his malicious face as his eyes gawk through the cheering lunatic people. "The fight will go on as long as it has to."
"Rule number five." He replies instantly, "No drawing on a guy's face if he is knocked down... Unless it's really, really funny."
Ryan steps forward into the crowd as the man yells in the mic, "Rule number SIX." People moved out of his way as if by instinct and coz of the little psychic push he gave them. Ryan wasn't in the mood to slow down.
Even his silhouette is reeking of jinx and danger.
"Fight club has no rules except, THERE IS NO FIGHT CLUB." My heart thumps as they all scream around me violently. My soul panic inside my petite body as their howls echoes through Milky way.
Wherever I look I see shoulders, pants, heads, butts, and hair. Hair on head, face, hands, underarms, chest, legs, under the nose, in the nose.
Erhh! I am sick of men, they are everywhere.
I halt beside Ryan who is sternly gawking at the man on stage as he says, "Rule number seven." My eyes run through the strong stainless chains and railings that bind all the four high pillars of the stage, making it look like an inescapable cage.
"If it's your first time here, you will fight."