His shoes continued to squeal and clomp on the floor as he walked, despite his effort to keep them silent. Nashita's comments reminded him that he needed new shoes, but he also needed new clothes, new school supplies, and money to ride the bus. He hated that money made the world go around.
Rowdy narrowed his eyes as he ascended to the third floor, greeted by colors of blue and lavender splashed onto the walls. The colors of Vanguard's Elite stared him in the face, telling him that he now waded in enemy territory, whether he liked it or not.
Nashita acted like her brother didn't intimidate others, but Rowdy knew differently. From the perspective of a boy that had anything to do with Tariq's sister, Tariq presented himself as the most ruthless being on Earth.
A sound hit Rowdy's ears, and at first, it startled him. He always loved music, but this particular musical sound made him shiver. He recognized the sound of a ukulele, and only one person he knew played one. Damian Woronoff always irked him, with his dyed black hair, blue eyes that seemed to keep you on edge, and instrument playing that mesmerized the soul. He only knew of one thing that could make this situation worse
He rounded the corner, and his eyes confirmed the worst. Damian stood in front of a door with the emblem of Vanguard's Elite. An elegant suit of armor on a coat of arms lay stamped to the door, plated in violet and cobalt. He strummed the small instrument with delicate mastery, and next to him stood the other guardian of the gate.
She sparkled as if she embedded diamonds in her hair, and her teeth shone with perfection. Lark sang with the gift of a million music muses, keeping the hallway crowded with her charming voice. He hated her in that moment, knowing that this would never turn out well. She always tried to get him into situations he didn't like, even if he insisted he wanted nothing to do with her.
Rowdy took a deep breath, feeling the nervousness stir within him once again. Sure, Lark looked beautiful in every definition of the word, but he didn't like her. He knew he never met her expectations, because he always scored lower than her on every scale. In looks, in financial status, in intelligence, and in talent, she always soared above him. Normally he wouldn't mind, as this meant little to him, but she thought herself better than him because of it. That's what made him nervous around her, because he knew she already thought bad of him, and now every move he made could seal his fate when it came to his public image. After all, Lark created public image, and if he wanted to get a job to help his family after graduation, he needed a good one. He already knew he couldn't follow his dream of becoming a detective. He finally stalked forward, ready to take on what lied ahead. He hoped she didn't make him look like a fool. That would make the girl he really pined after even more disinterested.
The duo ended their song as soon as they noticed Rowdy's presence. They didn't falter on the note as many would if someone ripped them out of song, but instead they let it eerily fade away into the abyss. The duo stared him down silently as he stood in front of them, keeping him from gaining passage to the door.
"Oooo, it's the Washington boy." Damian played a dark chord after his words and smiled slyly from his perch in front of the door. "What are you up to today? Are you looking for odd jobs to save up for your mother's bail? Or are you doing it for your own in advance?"
Lark and Damian together proved to be abysmally worse than Lark alone. If Ezekiel joined the party, all in the world of dissonance would be complete. Rowdy's face heated up with embarrassment, and he closed his eyes to regain his composure. The Moderator believed that would help, but he only saw the images of the police hauling off his mother to jail in his mind's eye. He stood, clinging to his father's side and shivering, holding his little sister in his arms. The event happened several years ago, and her murderous exploit still lingered around the city whenever the name Washington left someone's lips. Visiting her in jail never looked good on his reputation, either. He always felt like everyone looked to see if he arrived in handcuffs, with them happy to see another 'stupid, punk' kid behind bars where he belonged. After a moment of silence, he managed to speak again.
"I'm here to speak to Tariq, Damian. It's for Nashita. She's busy." He coughed, holding onto the loops in his jeans for something to clutch onto should Damian make another comment. He refused to step down to his level and prove the Bard's point that he Rowdy was an aggressive time bomb just waiting to go off.
"Aw, no need to be upset, growly boy. No one wants to see the bear inside of that skin walker." Lark smiled almost viciously, wrapping her arm gently around Rowdy's shoulders. He pulled away instantly, feeling his face turn red with embarrassment again. Now they decided to use his character as an excuse to call him brutal.
"Just let me talk to Tariq so that I can leave." Rowdy managed to keep a stable, calm voice. He crossed his arms and watched the two of them carefully.
"Nope, he doesn't want to talk to you." Damian shrugged simply, allowing the ukulele to lay slack from the strap around his shoulders. Instead, he picked the ocarina up from his necklace chain, and played a few notes in a refrain to show disappointment.
"You have to stay out here, with us!" Lark snickered, leaning forward and pecking the tattooed boy on the cheek. He wiped off the moisture quickly, flustered and angry.
"Stop it, and let me through that door, now. You can come with me if you think I'm going to try and cause trouble. I just need to talk to him." Rowdy tried to reach for the door's handle, but Lark grabbed his hand instantly.
"Or you could stay out here with us." She moved it to the top of her hip, smiling again that deceitful smile that she always wove so easily. Rowdy tore his hand away, cursing loudly and telling her to stop again. This always happened when she got out of the public eye. She became sultry, and of course, no one would believe that because she stood at the top of the totem pole.
"Let me in." The boy snarled, shoving his way between Damian and Lark to get to the door. He began to open it, ready to rush inside, but a strong arm wrapping around his throat stopped him. He grabbed at the figure, but they pulled him back quickly and threw him to the floor. He felt the air wheeze out of him, vision swirling as he looked up at the face of Michael Gordon. The Druid smiled at the hurt skin walker, and without missing a beat, he lifted his foot and then brought it back down to slam into his face.
Rowdy screamed, bringing his hands up to his bloody nose as soon as Michael lifted his boot. The boy's arm shook with pain, and tears pricked at his eyes.
"Get lost, Washington. Tariq isn't even here. He went to look for a way out." Michael grumbled, pulling his shoulders back and sighing.
It took Rowdy a few minutes to sit up. His head throbbed, his face hurt, and he swore that he felt his own tears. He felt so ashamed for crying in front of all of these people. He eventually staggered to his feet, holding his nose with one hand and then his side with the other free arm.
"What are you doing out there?" A voice hissed from behind the door, and Rowdy recognized Tariq's voice even in his hazy state.
"Keeping the vermin out." Damian answered loudly so Tariq could hear it through the door. No one responded
Rowdy staggered forward a step, shared a certain rude gesture from the hand that he kept wrapped around his side before returning it for support and then stalked back down the hallway. Tariq could hole himself up in his little room if he wanted to. Rowdy didn't care anymore. He just wanted to go home. Gathering up what was left of his dignity, the boy stumbled down the stairs, headed back to the Copper Phoenix base room. Leighton needed some company, anyway.