From an upper-stairs bar space came two brown-jacketed men, and one of them approached Kieran. He stood before him. The club was dead silent, the heavy steps of the club guards that rushed in through the main entrance echoing through. No one moved or talked; they just watched the scene unfold like a movie.
The man inches from Kieran, tall, quite a nice body build... and above all, a creepy long scar on his face. Kieran could tell the man was a thug.... that the three were. Staring into Kieran's eyes for a moment, the man smirked with fulfilment, as though he had just confirmed something to himself.
He then pushed Kieran's face aside. It wasn't like the average face pat; neither was it a hot slap. People murmured, maybe feeling for the poor guy, or they knew who he was.
Kieran didn't hit back, didn't yell out, nor cower in fear either. He shot the man's bruised wrist a glance before stepping much closer and whispered,
"The bone is still twisted in the wrist, isn't it?" Such words are always sympathetic or as rage bait. But Kieran chose manipulation instead.
He chuckled sharply.
He hadn't said that much, but the man was already frozen in place. Not out of magic, but something clear to both of them. Kieran had examined his bruised wrist well - the man had a BB. The bruise is a scar that wears around the wrist like a real bracelet, and boxers do get it when injured in the ring.
If the opponent seizes one's punch and hits it back against the nose without relent, some wrist bones might twist and tear through the skin. This was because Skybridge boxers were mainly trained to throw punches forward, not the other way round.
The wound heals to form a Boxer's Bracelet - BB.
And it does hurt, forever, because the bones won't stop twisting.
"You fucking bastard! Why aren't you touching him?" the drunkard screamed from behind. Kieran walked past the man's side, patted his shoulder while doing so, and stopped a metre away from the drunkard.
Kieran teased,
"Ah, old man... you could have got yourself some women if the ladies aren't opening the door for you. Why try to force that poor little thing when you aren't her cup of tea?" He pointed back at the slender lady, who was holding up a part of her blouse to cover her breast - the drunkard had slightly torn her clothes. It wasn't only pepper red, but also crying "justice".
The curves and angelic parts are the greatest virtues of seduction for some women. But for most, they're things to protect with all their heart.
The old man's reaction was sluggish, or rather forced in a way. Instead of him talking back to Kieran, he first burped aloud like a pig before tapping the other guy's shoulder, urging him to get Kieran.
"Kill that... son of a bitch," he said, eyes half-closed, burping again. Then he shouted, "Fucking kill him!"
And yes, the guy walked towards Kieran with a frown. Listening to his boss, wasn't he? But not anymore when Kieran pulled out a note that shimmered white under the spotlight. A familiar face....
"A hundred thousand dollars!"
Kieran's voice drew murmurs of surprise immediately, the silent club now turned back on... Not with music, by the way.
Kieran didn't hold back, "Apologize back to her... and you have this cheque!" At that moment, maybe something held down the intoxications or something... but the drunkard blinked twice and let out a more humane sigh.
Like someone normal, though not so free from the intoxications. As though trying to confirm the authenticity of the cheque, the drunkard reached out to touch it upon getting to Kieran's front.
But Kieran drew his hand back. With a gentle smile, he leaned towards the man, looking into his own reflection in his eyes, "Apologise to that lady first, geezer. And you've got the money."
"Eh?" the man mouthed, as though unable to process what he had said. But he actually did. "That... for a hundred grand? You are..." he burped, "... capping, no?"
"Test me."
In a few moments, the man waved at the others to come by his side, and when they did, he prompted them to bow to the lady, even to the point that he pressed their heads down himself.
He did the same thing. "Please, forgive me! You have my words... that won't..." he burped, "... that won't ever happen again."
But sorry wasn't enough for the humiliation and disrespect he showed her. Giving him a condescending stare, she muttered under her breath, "Fucking bastard!" before walking through the crowd to the entrance.
Kieran sighed and, like everyone else, looked at her till she disappeared into the passageway. He thought, 'Would be a waste not getting her number though.'
That moment, he noticed a shadow leaning closer before him and he glanced there to see the drunkard already stretching his hand out to him, smiling warmly. But Kieran didn't hand over the cheque; instead, he turned towards the two guards ahead.
"... We met earlier... Right?"
The two guys bowed to him. "Yes, sir!"
Murmurs rose. As expected. Because these ever-aggressive guys would not only trouble you for not wearing the club-wise dress but also if you failed to tip them. Were they now the respectful ones? The guy here must be a big deal then.
Kieran nodded. "Excellent." Then, crossing his arms behind him, he paced two steps away from the trio and asked the guards, "These guys are disturbing the peace here. Would you mind getting them outta here, please?"
One of the club rats stammered, "Ah-ah.... you don't have to say it like that, sir! I'm on it already!"
Kieran smiled as they rushed in to send the guys away. There it was. The power of money. How money is wielded as a power, not money itself. Once it finds its way into the hands of the perfect person, then the work is done. He could have chosen to fight earlier, but he had something stronger than the punches he would have landed.
After Kieran left the club, everyone was still talking about him. Not mainly over how he stood up against sexual harassment, but also that he had covered everyone's expenses for the whole night.
Outside, the Ferrari's scissor door eased open with a soft hiss for Kieran to slide in. The leather seat suited his back after minutes of exhausting showing off. Yes, Kieran knew all he did in the club was an absolute show-off.
Just as he was about to press the ignition, his phone chimed with a new message. Kieran picked the phone up and checked to see Jaxon's new message in the Three Stars WhatsApp group.
Guys, let's meet at Miss Anna's restaurant tonight. I have something important to discuss with you, especially Kieran.
Kieran shrugged and gave a reply, "Alright. I have been craving chicken soup to begin with." And he added a grinning emoji.