Chapter Four: Oliver, the information Nazi

Giant amplifiers pump out loud bass and pounding techno through the club, rocking the stools at the bar near the left side. Over two hundred people are dancing on the colorful tile floor, lighting their bodies with neon shades of green, pink, yellow, orange, red, and blue.

Sitting at the bar, leaning against the counter in his seat, he pulls out a cigarette, lighting it before taking a long drawl from it.

"You shouldn't be smoking here, Kody." A voice scolds, causing his head to snap up.

Oliver Sykes, one of Kody's few friends, is standing in front of him, his hands on his hips in a relatively gay manner. To anyone else, the position would've confused them. Oliver, with his broad shoulders and defined arms, doesn't look like the stereotypical gay guy. His chestnut hair is cropped just above his ears, showing his high cheek bones and piercing blue eyes. His shirt isn't skin-tight, unlike the skinny jeans covering his legs; instead, the thin material is hanging off of his neck, looking like it's meant for sleeping in instead of a dancing club.

"You sound like my father." Kody spats, taking another huff of his cigarette just to piss Oliver off, "What're you doing here anyway?"

"You're kidding right?" He asks incredulously, taking a seat next to him, "You've been missing for two days now. Do you know how many people your father has looking for you?"

Kody simply shrugs, blowing out a puff of grey smoke, "He'll live." He says with little interest, "He has that bitch after all."

Oliver sighs, obviously expecting the attitude, and decides to change the subject, "Have you decided which school you want to transfer to? The deadline is coming up."

"Not really." He says blandly, "Even after all of those fights, I haven't found anything interesting."

"Nothing's interesting to you." Oliver mutters.

It's true, more or less. Since his mother death two months ago, Kody hadn't really found anything particularly "interesting" and the only thing he seems to enjoy now-a-days is kicking people's asses.

What a way to live.

Suddenly, the dancing in front of Kody and Oliver seems to split down the middle, allowing for three people to pass entirely through, no one daring to touch them.

Kody's eyes widen.

Standing in the middle of two guys is the girl he met last night.

Her long black hair looks more tamed than what it did last night (probably because she got the chance to brush it) and now trails to her lower back in layers, her bangs curving over one of her green eyes. Unlike the rest of the girls in the club, she's wearing a Sleeping with Sirens short-sleeve with black, ripped skinny jeans and knee-high converses. Her hands are tucked in the pockets of her jeans, the disgusted look on her face screaming "What the hell are all of these idiots wearing?"

To her right, looking bored, is a guy who looks out of place. His golden hair is short and a little spikey, showing his hazel eyes, and his outfit looks like it suited for everything other than clubbing. The grey sweats cling loosely to his hips (thankfully not hanging down past his boxers) and the white muscle shirt reveals muscled arms covered with various scars. His black chucks look brand new, completely different from the rest of his outfit.

On her left is someone meant more for Oliver than the girls flocking around him. Hell, his shoulder-length hair looks better than most of the girls. Unlike the other two, he's wearing something more seen around the club. His collared, button-down shirt is button down enough to show a hairless tan chest with fancy dark jeans. His tennis shoes look more expensive than the rest as well.

Hell, he should be standing in the middle, not the girl.

Oliver lets out a low whistle next to him, "I can't believe they came here."

"They?" Kody repeats, looking over at him, "You know them?"

"And you don't?" He asks, "That's Aurora High's gang and their leader, Hazel."

"Gang leader?" He says, looking back over at the girl, "There's no way."

"You'd be surprised." Oliver informs him, "She's well-known around these parts. And not just for her fighting abilities." He says matter-of-factly.

"What d'ya mean?"

"Well, rumor has it that she's actually really nice and selfless, despite her quick temper."

"Huh." Is Kody's intelligent reply.

"Yeah, but they're probably just rumors. They also say that she lives alone in a house that her parents left behind when they passed away." He continues, getting bored with the subject, "Who would leave their sixteen year old daughter a house anyway?"

Kody ignores him, watching as the girl, Hazel, sighs, as if something the girly-boy next to her said was stupid, and yawns.

Now that he thinks about it, there had been no parents in the house when he left…

"Hey, sweetheart." Some guy slurs all of a sudden, grabbing Hazel's hand, "You wanna dance?"

Hazel's eyebrow twitches at the same time the guy's jaw on her right sets.

"Come on." He eggs, tugging her hand.

The girly-boy looks away from his girls to look at Hazel, who actually has the entire club officially staring at her.

"No thanks." She says politely, though Kody can definitely hear the strain in her voice.

"I said come on." The guy repeats more forcefully, grabbing her wrist and tugging, "With an ass like-"

Before he can even finish, the guy on her left has his own hand wrapped around his wrist.

"She said no bud, so beat it." The guy says darkly.

"You might want to listen to him." Girly-Boy says boredly, as if it happens all of the time, "She's not very patient when it comes to guys touching her."

His grip tightens, however, and Hazel cringes, snatching the man's wrist from the guy and flipping him over her shoulder effortlessly.

He lands with a painful crack on the glass tiles, groaning.

"Told you." Girly-Boy says, turning back to the girls with a playful grin.

"Disgusting pig." Hazel hisses, rubbing her wrist.

"Are you okay, Haze?" The guy asks, looking at her hand.

"Yeah." She says dismissively, waving him off, "Don't worry about it, Cameron. Let's just have fun tonight."

Kody watches as they take a seat at the VIP lounge, everyone but Girly-Boy hating the attention.

"Aurora High?" He mutters out loud, a smirk spreading.

"What?" Oliver asks, entirely distracted by the pretty boy with Hazel.

"Oliver, I've picked a school to transfer to."