The Wolves' Territory Saturday, July 8th 21:34


"Not sexy, nor beautiful, just nice."

THE WEEKEND CAME SLOWER than Scar had desired. He had spent his entire time at The Wolves' club cooped up in his room, drinking as much alcohol as he could find and wallowing in his own self-pity. His mood had only worsened since Tuesday, the day he'd arrived. The party Scar was expected to go to was that night and Scar was not looking forward to it. He didn't like socialising nor did he like partying but he had to go, Vice's orders. With no window to stare out of and no alcohol left to drown his depression, Scar walked into his bathroom wanting to take a long shower. The party was going to be hard for Scar, although he had practically mastered the 'okay' look, that still didn't mean he was okay. Claustrophobia was a demon Scar just couldn't get rid of and the thought of being surrounded by drunk men and their whores made Scar want to puke his guts out.

But Scar also couldn't shake off the feeling something was going to happen. Something big. It made him anxious, on guard, like he was expecting someone to jump out at him. Scar didn't like the feeling.

The water dropped down Scar's naked back as he placed both his hands on the tiles in front of him. It soaked his hair as he lowered his head, he was depending on the wall to hold him up, Scar was not in a good mindset, his emotions were all over the place. He needed to breathe, but he couldn't - he wouldn't. Scar just didn't know what was wrong with him, he didn't know if it was water on his face or tears, he didn't know if it was lines of ink on his arms or cuts from previous torturous nights. Although the water was cold, Scar was sweating. He was terrified that he was going to lose it and Scar couldn't afford to cause a war because he couldn't control his emotions. The club would throw him onto the streets faster than he could pack his things. Scar needed to chill out. It was just a party.

"It's just a party," Scar whispered to the wall, "It's just a party." 

After Scar had gotten out of the shower, he quietly sat on the edge of his bed staring into the mirror opposite him. He could barely believe his eyes, the man sitting across from him was a stranger. Have I really changed that much? Scar questioned where the time had gone, the last time he took a good look at himself was 5 years ago, back when he was a different person... a good man. A soldier. Scar took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He was going to make a small effort tonight, it was a surprise birthday party and he wanted to look the part.

Pulling on a pair of black ripped jeans and a black tank top, Scar combed his hair back and out his face. His tattoos were completely on show along with his muscular arms. Through the tank top, you could see the outlines of his defined stomach. Scar spent a lot of the time in the gym, it was his stress relief and punching a punching bag was much better than punching a wall - according to Malia.

Scar looked nice.

Not sexy, nor beautiful, just nice - just the way he liked it. Scar hated being the centre of attention and always tried to blend in with the crowd but his mother had taught him to look presentable wherever he went; you never know what might happen, baby, you could meet the love of your life and I'm sure you wouldn't want her to see you look a mess! Scar smiled softly, he missed his mother.

By now, Scar's peaceful Saturday afternoon had been ruined by blasting music. He could hear the laughter of hundreds of people outside - maybe he was exaggerating. Scar was trying hard to keep calm, his palms were already starting to sweat and his cheeks were heating up. He was nervous, so so nervous. Scar looked himself up and down in the mirror for the hundredth time before falling onto the bed and shoving his boots onto his feet. Scar only owned 1 pair of shoes and they were his boots, the boots that had been passed down to him from his father. Scar's face fell at the memory of him.

Time to face the music, Scar thought as he grabbed his bike and room keys. Walking toward the door, Scar inhaled deeply. This is going to be a long night. 

The party was at full power. Scar merely stood leaning against the drinks table with a bottle of beer in his hand. The boys looked like they were having fun. AJ was across the lot flirting with the whores of the club, Scar internally laughed at the smirk plastered on his face. If Scar were gay, he would probably be on his knees for the son of a bitch. Scar took a large gulp from his beer, making his shoulders relax just for a minute. The party wasn't as bad as Scar had anticipated, he found it was actually kind of amusing to watch all the older riders get a taste of the 20-year-old women.

The music wasn't exactly Scar's cup of tea and the smell was atrocious but there was a first time for everything. Nothing was left un-imagined, from men walking around with their shirts off, to couples having a quickie in the corner. Scar wondered if this was what it was like to be young and free, not giving a shit if someone sees you getting laid, getting drunk until your paralytic. Scar's teen years were very different and Scar was still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not. Everyone had near enough stayed clear of Scar, he was intimidating to those who didn't know him but that was the way he liked it.

"I like your tattoo's," Scar hears from someone standing next to him, "Did you design them yourself?" Scar turned his head slightly, ready to give a death stare to whoever broke his peaceful talk with his own mind. His breath caught in his throat at the person standing next to him. Crystal blue eyes.

It was her.

She looked the definition of beauty. Her bangs and short hair was curled, it moved slightly to the warm breeze. The bold, red lipstick made her eyes pop and shine even more. The shorts and top she was wearing made her look casual but also made her look good. More than good. She, like Scar, wore a pair of leather boots. Scar couldn't find the words to describe her. She was like nothing he had ever seen before, he had seen many beautiful women in his life but she was the cherry on top. It was like she had an aura around her that sucked people in, making them look at every inch of her, making them take in every inch of her beauty. The smile she wore made Scar's heart skip a beat, he couldn't remember the last time someone smiled at him and now she had, he wanted to make sure her smile was only for him. Scar felt a wave of protectiveness pass over him. He began to feel overwhelmed, she made him want to fall to his knees.

Scar merely nodded at the little crystal next to him, making her smile even brighter, "They're beautiful," she says before lifting her fingers and tracing the designs on his arms. God, she was barely touching him yet he felt like his skin was on fire, "Did you do the ink yourself?" she asks, curiously.

Scars nodded again, "The ones on my right," he says as he stares at her. She looks up to meet his eyes making Scar's heart beat out of his chest, "You're so talented!" she says with another smile. Scar had never had someone give him so much kindness, it made him want to cry but he also want to hug her and tell her how much it meant to him. He was acting like a hormonal teenager and, fuck, did he hate it.

"And you?" he asks, looking at her tattooed arms, "Where'd you get yours done?"

"My shop, the one over there," she says pointing to the tattoo parlour Scar had first seen her leaning on. She owned that?! Scar was impressed by the talent that she possessed. The designs on the windows were simply amazing.

"Your designs are... amazing,"

"Maybe you should pop by sometime then, before you leave..." Scar stopped for a second, realising his mistake. He couldn't get close to anyone, especially not her.

"I'll think about it."

The two of them fell into a peaceful silence, both drinking out of almost empty beer bottles and leaning against the booze table. Scar, for once in his life, was relaxed. His shoulders hung freely and a distant smile played on his lips. He had only spoken to her for 5 minutes and he already felt somewhat better... it was dangerous. It was bad but, in that moment, Scar didn't care.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" she asked. Scar raised his eyebrow at her sudden request. Was this why she was talking to me? Scar thought, just for a quickie? Scar was taken back by her request, he didn't know how old she was and Scar was not prepared to give himself over to a girl that could be a minor, "Oh my! I'm sorry, not like that, I literally just meant get out of here like go someplace else... it's fine if you don't want to, I-"

"You gotta' place in mind?" Scar asked before downing the rest of his beer.

"It's not too far from here,"

"Let's go then," Scar says before thinking. Shit. He was about to let a girl on his bike! Nobody touches his bike... but he couldn't back out now and quite frankly, he didn't think he wanted to. As they walked through the crowds of people, the last thing Scar heard before putting a helmet on her head was; "Happy Birthday, Lani."

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