It was nighttime when Malo and Faye stopped by a gas station.
They both got out. Malo was filling the tank with gas while Faye kept looking at the ring on her finger. Her eyes narrowed at the dark metal catching the bright light overhead, her pulse pounding a tight, angry beat against her ribs while her lungs pulled in the sharp, heavy fumes of fuel.
"The only ring I intend to put on my finger is the one My Princess would give me in the future. Now I’m wearing some cultish shit of a ring..." Faye muttered. She twisted the band on her pinky, her chest heaving with a deep, frustrated breath that made her shoulders lock up.
"It’s just a ring, Faye, and It’s not on the finger where Princess would put it, whenever that comes..." Malo said. He kept his eyes on the pump counter, his hand gripping the black handle firm while his chest rose and fell in a calm, steady rhythm.
"If Princess makes a single complaint about this ring, you will feel my punches." Faye declared flatly. She turned her head sideways, her jaw setting hard into an unyielding line as her breath burst through her nose in a sharp, lethal puff.
Malo said nothing. He had already accepted his fate. Faye could punch him whenever she wanted. He deserved it. He let out a soft, defeated exhale through his mouth, his posture slumping slightly under the weight of her words as he squeezed the trigger down.
"Do you think he is going to be alright?" Malo said. His hands tightened on the gas nozzle, his pulse skipping a fast, anxious beat while his lungs pulled in another draft of air.
"I don’t know.... I just hope he doesn’t die.... If my family wasn’t involved, I would not have left without him. He seems like a nice guy with teenage problems," Faye said. She had no choice. It was either her family or a stranger they had just met a few days ago. She didn’t want some Lycan threatening the ones she loved.
"I feel bad.... Do you feel bad?" Malo said. The boy might have been someone he met only three days ago, but the way he acted felt like one of his siblings. They didn’t let him sleep in the storeroom the next day, so Malo took him home and fed him. Malo swallowed down the lump in his throat, his chest rising in a quick, troubled heave as he looked across at Faye.
"What we are doing is bad, Malo.... I just hope we don’t have to make more bad choices in the future," Faye said. She let out a long, weary breath that shook her shoulders, her fingers dropping away from the ring as her pulse throbbed a quiet cadence.
While they were talking, a blue motorcycle stopped by another gas pump to fill its tank. The rider had a helmet on.
The biker turned to look at them, then removed the helmet, and it turned out to be Bambi. Her messy hair spilled out instantly, her eyes locking onto the two friends while her lungs pulled in a fresh, cool draft of night air.
Both Faye and Malo tried their best not to engage with the girl. They still had beef with one another. Faye’s posture locked straight like steel, her heart thumping a fast, furious beat against her ribs while Malo averted his gaze completely, his breathing coming out short and tight through his nose.
Bambi didn’t like Malo because of their childhood days. Malo didn’t like Bambi because she bullied him, and Faye just didn’t like Bambi. Then the hatred became permanent when she ratted Faye out to Princess about the 1 million payment.
"Noisy mouth of a toy-stud," Faye muttered, but Bambi heard.
Then Bambi sprayed gasoline from the nozzle toward the two friends. The clear liquid blasted through the air, hitting their shoes and clothes with a sharp splash, the strong chemical scent instantly filling their lungs.
"What the fuck!" Faye screamed as she glared at Bambi, Faye stumbled back an inch, her breath locking straight up in her throat as her pulse exploded into a wild, furious sprint. Bambi’s chest heaved with bright, mocking laughter, her head tilting back as she let out short, hilarious bursts of air.
Faye and Malo were done filling their tank, but then Faye swiped her card and began firing gasoline back at Bambi, who fired back.
Faye ripped the nozzle off the nearby rack, her jaw working continuously as she squeezed the handle hard, sending a thick stream of fuel right across Bambi’s bike while her lungs pumped out rapid, agitated gasps.
And so the play began. Bambi kept going until she maxed out. The liquid sprayed everywhere in wild arcs, splashing against the metal posts and pooling around their shoes while their heart rates hammered in high, chaotic rhythms, their chests rising and falling in breathless, adrenaline-fueled waves.
"Hah, looks like you are out of gas," Malo mocked the girl. He let out a sharp, breathless laugh through his nose, his shoulders lifting in a arrogant posture as he watched Bambi’s pump click empty.
Then he brought out his golden card and swiped it, paying for another full tank. He was about to waste the gas on Bambi’s face. His fingers worked fast on the register screen, his eyes shining with pure mischief while his lungs filled with a deep, triumphant breath.
Then a black SUV drove in beside Bambi.
Faye and Malo acted like nothing was happening, like they had just been engaged in some childish, dangerous play. They froze right in their tracks, Malo lowering the nozzle just an inch while Faye straightened her posture, her chest rising in a slow, forced wave to mask her racing pulse.
The window of the SUV rolled down from the back seat.
A man wearing a cowboy hat glanced at Bambi. His eyes shifted slowly under the wide brim, his face completely unmoving while his chest expanded with a quiet, imposing draft of air.
Bambi’s playful expression vanished instantly, replaced with an unreadable, moody one.
She got off her bike and dragged it out of the station because it was soaked.
When Bambi left, Faye’s, Malo’s, and the man in the cowboy hat’s eyes met for a couple of seconds. The heavy silence stretched tight across the gas station, Faye’s eyes locking onto the stranger while her pulse thudded a firm, cautious rhythm against her ribs.
His lips curled into a cold sneer, his chest rising in a slow, dismissive wave as the glass slid shut, the heavy vehicle speeding off into the dark streets with a quiet roar.
"What was that?" Malo muttered. He let out a confused, lingering huff of air through his lips, his hand dropping the gas pump back into its holder while his heart rate slowly began to settle back down.
Then the manager of the gas station appeared, seeing all the gasoline on the ground.
"What is happening here? You just committed an offense! I’m calling the GPF...." The manager shouted at the top of his lungs, his hand waving frantically in the air while his chest heaved in rapid, furious gasps as he reached for his phone.