Today’s just another day. Well, it would be, if not for the fact that I feel absolutely terrible. I could feel it from the moment I got up; today I was different. I felt deflated, and more than that I just felt angry at the entire world.

I get a text from Dirty Diamond. We’ve got yet another gig to deal with. Good for them, I guess, but I just wasn’t feeling up for it. Theoretically, I think I could choke my way through another performance as I am, but the passion, the energy just wouldn’t be there, and if this trance holds I might just blank out entirely and fuck up our reputation. I told them I wasn’t feeling up for another performance right now.

It was a shame, too, because I usually liked hanging out with the boys, no matter how much of an annoying jackass Sard was.

Time passes, and I feel a loose sense of guilt for not joining the rest of Dirty Diamond after they were finally making headway. With nothing better to do that day, I decide to head to the Keel-Bridge, if only to watch.

I enter the Keel-Bridge parking lot, not spying any motorcycles this time, thankfully. Our van’s back where it was, and by now the boys were inside and probably doing their sound check. I walk around and enter the Keel-Bridge through the main door, slowly pacing over to take up a seat at the bar.

Apparently, Jeremy’s already back at the bar, and he’s chatting up the girl that Sard and that one biker fought over last time we were here. The two seem to be into each other, which was certainly interesting to me, because I’d have thought she was more into Sard, or that biker gang leader. Jeremy, of course, was wearing a cast over his bad ankle, and was in a hoodie instead of a biker’s jacket. A pair of crutches stand, propped up against the bar counter next to him.

I hear isolated notes come from behind the curtain. The crowd started to get excited; there were tables already being displaced, and I swear I saw a sign or two being held up by certain parts of the crowd. The curtains opened, and there was the rest of the usual suspects-including Sard, oddly enough-and the two backup vocalists from the rehearsal.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Dirty Diamond! Are you ready for another round of feeling alive!?”

The crowd lets out a cheer, eagerly awaiting the first song. Out the corner of my eye, I notice Jeremy break off from the girl, keeping a stool in between them.

“Well, this time, unfortunately there’s a catch. Wick, unfortunately, didn’t come because she was dealing with emotional issues. Guess she must’ve been so worried sick about me, huh?” His punchline was met with mixed responses, but trended towards slightly positive. “And as for me, well, I’m recovering from a head injury. I might be hiding it well, but I’ve got one HELL of a headache, and I don’t wanna bother if all I’m gonna do is fuck up my lines.” The crowd sounded disappointed at this realization. “But, don’t worry, I’d like to present to you our backup vocalists, Bell and Ferro!” Mary and Elise take a short bow, each at their own mic stands. “I’m confident they won’t quite fuck it up, but I apologize anyway if this show ends up not being quite up to Dirty Diamond’s usual standards.” A few in the crowd chuckle. “Anyway, enough about me, let the show begin!” Sard hands the mic to Elise and hops down, as they let the show kick off.

Sard walks over to the bar, taking a seat by me.

“Thought you weren’t able to do it because of emotional strife. Were you really that worried about me?”

“No. I just felt bad about not being able to perform, so I came to watch instead, and maybe drink away some problems while I’m at it.”

“Awww. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other day.”

“I already feel my patience falling short, but go on.”

“Why didn’t you warn me about the other guy coming over like you did last time?”

I sigh, grumbling. “I think you would’ve preferred the fight anyway, just to keep your own ego up.”

“Dude, fuck you, okay?” Sard sighs, massaging his temples. “You were so adamant about keeping my nose clean last time, what gives?”

Putting both hands on the bar counter, I finally snap my vision over to Sard. “Bitch, do I look like your keeper? I wasn’t in the mood that day, to put it quite simply. You’re not the only one with problems.” Sard practically pouts like a child. “Besides, whatever happened to you ‘being your own man’, huh?”

Sard sighs, turning to face the bar. “Whatever, forget it.”

“I’ll have you know that I gave the boys a heads-up when you left to try and settle things outside. You probably would’ve gotten yourself killed otherwise.”

Sard hangs his head low at hearing this, but says nothing more. We both order our drinks and watch the performance. It was clear to me that the backup vocalists were quite talented, and ‘Bell’ had some charisma of her own, but she just didn’t quite have the same energy as Sard did. The crowd still cheers them on, but I can tell the show was overall a let-down for the fans. The most surprising part of all, though, was that Sard managed to have the discipline to stay where he was and watch instead of flirting with that one girl.

“That girl you were chatting up, what’s her name?”

“I’m not sure why you’re asking, but… Ashley. Her name is Ashley.”

“Well, surprise, surprise, she’s here again.” I let myself smirk before I let a taunt loose. “Maybe she’s kind of into you after all.”

Sard looks to me with a smile-I don’t think he was taking the hint. “Thanks for the heads-up, maybe I’ll talk with her later.”

The rest of the gang takes a bow, and the curtains close yet again. I see Teller briefly step in to collect their cut of the cover charge before returning to the others.

“I’ll take another round, barkeep.”

“You do realize you’ll be paying cover charge on top of the drink’s cost?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

The rest of Dirty Diamond’s cast walk in. Teller’s the first to notice me.

“Yooo, why are you here, June? Thought you were grieving your pet hamster’s death or some shit.”

“I felt bad about not being able to perform when the band was finally catching wind, so I came here to cheer you guys on from the sidelines.”

“Alright.” Teller nods, before taking his seat. “So, how did we do with the backup vocalists?”

“Solid, for what you were working with, but I can tell the crowd was disappointed not getting to see Sard and I at each other’s throats.” This got a chuckle out of Teller.

“Speaking of which...” Teller points, and I follow it to see Sard chatting up Ashley.

“Oh, Jesus, does he ever learn?” I roll my eyes as Teller laughs. Ashley still seems interested in Sard, but there was certainly something different compared to when she was with Jeremy. I turn my focus back towards my drink-I might’ve had three or four glasses by now, but it’s hard to be sure.

Unfortunately, we’re not left to hang out for long before I see a familiar group of men in leather jackets walk into the bar. Their leader, apparently, wasn’t actually sent into an outright coma via German suplex. I see the leader’s body language change from relaxed to tense and furious as his eyes finally fall upon Ashley and Sard. I see him start to walk over, but Jeremy quickly stops him in his tracks, putting one of his crutches in the way. I see Jeremy talk to him quietly-I can’t hear exactly what from this range-before pointing at me. My blood stirs as the biker leader looks to me, then back to Jeremy, and nodding his head before he starts walking towards me.

I’m not sure what problem he had with me specifically, but I looked briefly to the others and decided it wasn’t worth getting them involved. I push off from the bar counter, standing up from my stool to walk towards him. We stop, probably not more than a foot from each other.

“I’m sick of your boy constantly trying to chat up my girl. Call him off.”

“That sounds more like a problem that you need to take up with him instead of me.”

His face shifts towards a scowl. “Don’t play dumb with me, I know you’re the one really running the show here.”

“I’m not sure who gave you the idea, but I don’t own him.”

He lets out an annoyed chuckle. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

I stopped for but a second to consider if I should deescalate the situation somehow, but then I remembered the mirror’s words; I don’t owe him anything.“Actually, yeah, probably.”

Rage dances across his face, but I don’t flinch. “Excuse me? Do I need to make a move to teach you some fucking manners? Apologize, right now, before this gets ugly.”

There was something about his entire vibe that disgusted me, from his possessiveness to his vain demands for respect and his bald-faced attempts at intimidation. I guess I was pissed myself, because my response is loaded with venom. “I think I’d rather take this outside.”

“Suit yourself.” He waves his men over; even Jeremy starts hobbling over, crutches and all. I look to the others, considering calling them out with me. I really didn’t want them to see this side of me, so I turn and make my way to the back without calling them up.

I’m back in the parking lot, greeted by a semicircle of men in leather jackets, plus Jeremy. Jeremy in particular is smiling, clearly more than glad to get back at me.

“You let your boy touch my girl, you break my right-hand-man’s ankle, and then you no-sell me when I come for an apology, for how much you’ve embarrassed us?”

“I don’t see how I should apologize for the fact that you just can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself. I mean, didn’t you cover that back in elementary school?”

I hear a familiar chuckle from behind. I turn around to see Sard and the other members of Dirty Diamond. Damn it, why did they have to come here?

I see the leader’s face contort into sheer rage. He struggles with his anger, before he composes himself. He lets out a slightly insane-sounding laugh. “Now, see, if this were a normal case of disrespect I’d just beat your ass the normal way, but now… NOW, YOU’VE MADE IT PERSONAL!” He draws a knife from his back pocket. It’s a clip-point, blade length of six inches if I had to guess. “And when things get personal, that’s when the blood starts to spill. But I’ll give you one last chance…” He tilts his head; if he was auditioning to play the part of an insane man, he’d get the role with flying colors. “Just apologize, and call your boy off.”

I pull my tessen from my pocket, holding it at my side. “I don’t owe a damn thing to you… And once I’m done with you,” I point to Jeremy. “Jeremy will be next.” Nork and Teller explode in laughter behind me. They probably think this is an act, just like in professional wrestling, and that I wouldn’t really beat a cripple. If only they knew how far gone I was…

The leader rolls his neck. “Well then, let the bloodshed begin.”

I brace myself and get in stance, before Sard suddenly steps in between us. “Hey! Your problem’s with me! Leave her out of this!”

“Sard, get out of the way. I’m handling this myself.”

“Bullshit! This is between ME and HIM!”

“You should really listen to her, Sard, before you get hurt for real.” He holds his knife up for emphasis, seeming more like a psycho by the minute.

“Sard, get out of the way before you sell your life for the sake of your ego!”

“If you want to get to her, you’ll have to get through me.”

“Damn it, Sard!”

“Suit yourself.” The leader springs forward, plunging his knife into Sard’s stomach. A spray of blood flicks off his blade as he shoves Sard aside with his other hand. It all happened so fast… I feel myself freeze over, staring squarely at the man. One of my bandmates was just stabbed, and I felt nothing.

Sard stumbles away, towards the rest of my group, both hands over a wound leaking blood at an alarming rate. “Oh god, oh fuck, HE ACTUALLY STABBED ME!”

“Now, let’s get back to our feud!” He starts walking towards me faster, and I in turn approach him, opening my fan. He opens with a series of wild slashes, as I either parry each cut with my opened fan or out-distance it. So far, he’s been keeping distance, hoping he can keep me from gaining control of the fight if he doesn’t force my hand. I can feel him starting to get impatient as I end up with two particularly close calls, precariously dancing around him to keep distance. He growls as he pauses before stepping in deep and slashing for my throat. I block it with the edge of my tessen as his momentum carries him in deeper; I seize the opportunity by sticking my foot in between his legs and shoving his back with my off-hand. He tries to make another swipe at my side, but I stifle it, pressing my main arm against his as I shove him off-balance. He almost falls over, stopping himself by putting a hand on the asphalt.

He turns and growls, clearly frustrated before letting out a near-psychotic yell and running at me. I close my tessen, readying myself for his approach. He steps in and I thwart his thrust with my off-hand, ramming my tessen into his throat. His knife clatters as both his hands go for his neck. He hits the floor, gasping for air. ‘No mercy, no hesitation, for he is unworthy.’ The phrase played back in my head, as I dwelled on how this was a man willing to intimidate and bully his way to getting some feeble form of ‘respect’ from his clique, and not only that, willing to knife people over it, even if they’re just in the way. My hand tightens over my tessen as I switch it to icepick grip. I felt nothing this entire fight, and as I raised my tessen, preparing to collapse his windpipe, I still feel nothing.

I crouch to make the plunge, but I’m cut off by someone seizing my left arm and yanking me several feet away. I duck my head further down as I’m pulled across, before springing upright and turning, plunging my tessen into my new aggressor’s neck instead…

I halt my strike just before it hits Nork’s neck. From his face I could tell he was scared, but he was holding his ground regardless. “I know he had it coming, chief, but I can’t let you get too carried away.”

With an inhale and an exhale, I finally allow myself to feel again, letting my tessen fall to my side. I look across to see Jeremy utterly mortified. I think about following up on my promise, but with Dirty Diamond watching, I can’t bring myself to do it. Nork lets go of my forearm as we both turn to see how Sard’s doing.

“Sard, you really are going to get yourself killed at this rate, all for that fucking ego of yours.”

“I save you, and this is how you repay me?” Sard raises an eyebrow at me, before grunting painfully and looking back down at his gut wound. Felch hands him a new stack of napkins to replace the old stack, which is absolutely soaked in blood.

“Has anyone called for an ambulance yet?”

“Shit, why didn’t I think of that!?” I see Teller pull out his phone and start punching in numbers.

I look over to Jeremy, as he stared at his compatriots trying to help their leader up, remembering how he was with Ashley when they first walked in, and how she said she wasn’t with the leader even when he acted like it.

Wait a second… That bitch!

The accusation springs into my mind, formed from incomplete intelligence and a hunch, but I’m extremely confident in it. It’s clear she’s really into Jeremy and only does this shit to get their gang’s leader worked up.

“Stay with Sard, don’t let him get jumped by the rest of these deadbeats. I’m gonna go and finish my damn drink.”

Though the others looked at me almost incredulously, nobody objected.

I walk back into the bar, and to the counter. I down the half glass of rum I had remaining, before my eyes fall on Ashley. I’m left waiting for several minutes, before she starts to walk to the bathroom. Seizing my opportunity, I follow her in.

I look around briefly, hearing no other footsteps against the white tile floor, and seeing that nobody was inside, spare for Ashley. I discreetly move the plastic trashcan over and into the door’s way. It wasn’t much, but at least it’d warn me if someone else came. I put a hand under my shirt and tug the tanto knife concealed there free of its scabbard, walking over to Ashley as she’s washing her hands. She barely has time to turn before I put the edge into her neck, seizing her opposite shoulder with my free hand. Her eyes scream terror in the mirror’s reflection.

“Try and listen to what I say next. I don’t know what sick fucking games you and Jeremy are playing, and as much as I hate to admit it, it’s really none of my business, but if you don’t keep my bandmates out of it, I’ll find you again,” I put a slight amount of pressure onto the knife, leaning my head towards her ear as I let a shard of indignation bleed into my voice, “And I won’t ask nicely twice.”

“What games, you psychotic bitch!?” Thankfully, she’s smart enough to keep her voice down, for her own sake.

“I’ve seen how you act with Jeremy when the others aren’t around. I know you love to play men against each other, fighting for your affection. It disgusts me to no end that I even tolerate it, but I can’t even manage that when you’re roping in my friends and they end up getting stabbed. Like I said, keep my band out of it, whatever you want to call it.”

She smiles. “And what’s stopping me from just screaming right now, so you can get properly sorted and put into the loony bin?”

My hand tightens over my knife as I fight back the urge to drag the edge across her throat. “I have clout, and you don’t.” I display a vicious smile of my own. “They simply won’t believe you.” I watch as her smile practically crumbles to dust.

I pull the edge back from her throat, slipping the knife back under my shirt and carefully sliding it back into its scabbard, pausing to watch her shaking all over. Satisfied, I move the trash can back to its proper position, stepping out and back to my seat. I pay my tab before leaving to see Sard get loaded into an ambulance.

“So, gentlemen, you gonna accompany him to the hospital again?”

“Probably not. The medics said his odds of survival are actually pretty good.” Nork shrugged. “Besides, we’ve got a free tab to drink away.” Nork then smirked, leaving Teller and Felch chuckling. The backup singers, on the other hand, seemed both in awe at and wary of me, not daring to get too close.

“So, Wick, are you gonna stay and drink with us? Maybe tell us about how you learned to fight like fucking Jason Bourne?” Teller beamed, clearly interested in learning whatever nonexistent magic secrets I had to becoming ‘badass’, whatever that means. I personally don’t feel badass; I feel more like a psychopath.

“Nah, I’m not really in the drinking mood anymore. That, and the bar isn’t paying for my drinks this time around.”

“I guess that fight wasn’t enough to work out your emotional turmoil?” Felch rose an eyebrow.

“Guess not.” I walk on past them, taking my leave.