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“Start a tab. I might be here for a while ... Furious.” Syn said the man’s name slowly. Letting it play across his lips for size. Syn liked the startled look that flashed across his new friend’s face. It seemed he liked his name on Syn’s lips, sounding sexy and dirty.
Furi quickly looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to their stare-off. He pulled at his hair and turned around without a comeback. Furious didn’t seem as cocky as he had at the bus stop last night.
Syn watched him for a few seconds while he took and filled a couple more orders His back was turned and Syn tried to get a look at the view hidden behind the bar, but was distracted by a loud knocking coming from the other end of the pub. He turned to look but the crowd was thick, and all he could see was a rambunctious group over by the pool tables and dart boards. Looked like college kids. The loud pounding and chanting sounded again.
“Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!” The small crowd chanted and banged what must be beer mugs on the wooden tables.
“What the fuck?”
Syn turned back around and saw his drinks were in front of him and so was Furious.
Louder knocking and yelling.
“What the hell is that?” The big man – Syn assumed now was the owner – emerged from behind double doors that probably led to the kitchen. “What is that damn noise, Furious?”
Syn watched Furious close his eyes with obvious annoyance and wipe his cloth across the bar in front of him. Furious shrugged but the stout owner didn’t see it because he was still trying to see over his customers' heads into the dark corner. This time the knocking was louder than the music.
The big guy put his hand on Furious’ shoulder and spun him around to face him. “Furi, what the fuck is that knocking?”
“Hell if I know, Unc. It sure as fuck ain’t opportunity,” Furious yelled back.
Syn choked on his beer laughing at Furious’ witty comeback. When Furious shrugged off his uncle’s grasp and turned back around, he stared down at a still chuckling Syn and shook his head. Syn saw a smile crack the man’s supple lips and before Syn knew it he’d winked at him.
“Well they need to calm down. People are leaving,” the uncle said. “Go tell them to knock it off.”
Syn watched Furious lower his head. He couldn’t make out what Furious was mumbling but it didn’t look like he was chanting a calming mantra. Furious threw the towel on the floor and made his way to the end of the bar. He lifted the bar top and slammed it back down when he’d passed through.
“I’ll show you where you can put that attitude Furi,” his uncle added, irritating Furi further.
Furious disappeared into the crowd. He must’ve made it to the rowdy kids and said something because the knocking stopped briefly before starting up again, only now it was even louder. Syn heard some yelling, then some 'oohhs' and 'ahhhs', which was never good to hear in a rowdy crowd. It typically meant someone was getting told off.
Syn couldn’t see Furious at all, regardless of his six foot one height. He abandoned his seat and made his way through the crowd. Syn felt the shift as he was pushed back with others. Fuck, someone was shoving or fighting. He still couldn’t see. People were gathering in to get closer to the angry shouts. This is not what I came here for. He could finally see Furious nose-to-nose with some preppy guy in a green polo shirt and khaki shorts. His spiky, gelled hair and boy-next-door looks screamed spoiled-rich-college-boy. They were cursing in each other’s faces and Syn was just about to intervene when a thick arm came around Furious’ neck from behind and preppy punched him in the stomach. The pain that flashed across Furious’ face had Syn feeling a burning rage that jolted him into action. He barreled through the last few bodies in his way and took determined steps, using his momentum to nail Furious’ captor in the ribs with a hard right jab. The man bowled over, almost taking Furious to the floor with him.
Syn yanked Furious up and slung him protectively behind him. Preppy looked startled for a second then bared his teeth at Syn.
“You don’t want none of this, man. Stay out of it.” Preppy looked around Syn, obviously wanting some more of Furious.
“Maybe I do.” Syn looked bored and then thought for a second. If he broke this kid’s jaw, that could be his damn promotion. Just when the kid looked like he wanted to start something, Syn pulled his badge. “Maybe a night in lock-up will get you to shut the fuck up.”
Syn heard the guy he punched groaning and looked at him, not wanting to find himself attacked from behind too. What he was surprised to not find was Furious. Syn pulled out his cell and called 911, he gave his name and badge number and told dispatch he had a few drunk and disorderlies that needed clearing out.
