One Night

Midnight Hour

This one-shot is set months before The School Bully. Enjoy. (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡   

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"When will you stop being a disgrace to this family, John?"

John deeply regretted not sleeping early or leaving the house. The clock had just struck midnight when his parents returned from a party. He was stretched out on the sofa in his rooms and had been reading comics when they suddenly barged inside and began sniping at him.

"You didn't go to the Duke's party when I specifically told you to come." John's father was pacing in front of him, his face furious. "Even your friend Christopher went with his grandparents and yet I have no son to show for."

Such bullshit.

Skull just got dragged by his grandmother. And knowing him, he was probably gone before the hour was up.

Vincent was staring ahead from behind his parents when John glanced at him. His bodyguard had accompanied his parents to the party. Vincent caught him looking. Then he shook his head, telling John he was sorry he couldn't stop his parents from coming into his rooms.

"Answer your father, son," his mother quietly instructed and John focused on her.

John swallowed an angry retort. It was insane how they think he'd concede to their dictates. His father specifically told him to come? The man couldn't even be bothered to tell it to him personally, only sending a maid to give him this directive.

And his mother. His cold, unyielding mother.

Did she think she still could tell him what to do after the s**t she put him through?

John knew he was being a rebellious brat. But he couldn't just put effort into anything his parents want him to do because they never really cared for him. They were only thinking about the family's reputation. They never even gave him praise for all the good things he'd done. So why bother?

"This is your fault," his father was telling his mother. "If you hadn't coddled him, if you hadn't spoiled him, he wouldn't turn out to be like this."

"And what would you rather have me do, Thomas?" His mother lifted a perfectly plucked brow. "Make him kneel on the hard ground? Whip his back and scream obscenities at him? Just like what you've done to him as he was growing up?"

"You keep protecting him."

"He's my son. I will keep protecting him. Even from you."

"Can you please not have a row in my room?" John sighed as he slowly sat up.

"See?" his father sneered at him. "Such disrespect. And you expect me to tolerate this?"

"He's still a teenager. He'll outgrow this. And please, John, for God's sake. Stop antagonizing your father."

"Haru Evans was a teenager when he started working for his father's company." His father pointed an angry finger at him. "And I want you to do the same or I'll cut off your allowance and throw you out of the house."

Another threat his father would never carry out.

"Thomas, you'll only be creating a scandal if you do that."

"I'm sick of this behavior, Fiona. It's time he remembered how fortunate he was to be born in this family."

Fortunate? John begged to disagree.

"He has good grades," his mother argued. "And he has been consistently bringing back the Excellency Award from the STEM summit every year. Your son is not completely hopeless."

"He hangs out with delinquents. And don't think for one second I don't know about his violent escapades with them."

Seriously, can they not do this in his room while he was inside?

"Thomas—"

"I can't believe you're arguing with me about this, Fiona!" his father bellowed and John tensed. "Now I'm truly beginning to think his behavior is entirely your fault!"

"Don't talk to her like that."

Both father and mother cut their gazes to him. His father's scowl was deepening because he'd just talked back to him while his mother looked stunned. Because John may hate her but he was still his mother. Even after what she did to him, at the end of the day, he'd still defend her because for whatever f****d up reason it was, he knew she did it for him.

John ignored his mother's surprised expression. His eyes were on his father. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Father?" he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself in check but failing. "Don't you have another pitiful secretary to f**k?

A fist came crashing against his cheek and he fell to the side, his ears ringing painfully.

"Thomas, stop! Get away from him! John, are you alright?"

Soft hands fell upon his face and John pushed them aside.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Vincent, don't just stand there! Get a doctor."

"I said I'm fine!" he roared, coming to his feet. "I'm leaving."

"Where do you think you're going, John?" his father bellowed, prepared to drag him back if not for his mother who was stopping him.

"Away from you!" John shouted, slamming the door closed.

As always, Vincent was right behind him when he stormed out of the house and into the garage.

"Get the f**k away from me," he snapped when he stopped in front of his truck.

"You're angry, young master. You shouldn't drive angry."

"And who the f**k are you to tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing?"

"I'm not your enemy, sir," Vincent said quietly.

John stared at him, his mouth tight, his eyes angry. "You're not on my side, either."

"I've proved it to you once, sir. And I'll prove it to you over and over again."

Vincent had only been his bodyguard for a little over six months. And yes, he did prove himself when he didn't tell his father about what John and his friends had done to Suzie Turner's r****t a month ago. He'd even helped them cover the whole thing up.

But John was still wary of him. Vincent knew that, which was why he was treading carefully.

"And if I may sir, you're phone has been ringing nonstop," he went on, showing John his phone.

The screen showed Rohan calling.

Taking in a deep breath, John answered, "Hello?"

Silence, then, "My, my, aren't we pissy tonight."

He took a deep breath for patience. "Just tell me why you've been blowing my phone all night, Rohan."

"You've got to come," Rohan's voice slurred as he spoke.

"Where?"

"The pool hall." A crash resounded over the line. "Skull's fighting again."

Shit. Another pain in the ass.

"I'm coming. Make sure the two of you stays alive until then."

He disconnected the call and saw that Vincent was already texting on his phone.

"You heard?"

"I have people checking their wellbeing at the moment, sir."

Jesus, this ex-military's ears were unbelievably sharp.

"I'm going," John told him.

Vincent lifted his gaze as he slid his phone back to his jacket pocket. He gave John a long stare then nodded. "Alright sir. But maybe I should drive."

"Fine," John conceded, finding it too troublesome to argue with him. "Let's go."

The drive to the pool hall was silent. John was staring out the window, trying not to think, trying to get rid of his anger before he saw his friends. His cheek was throbbing but a pretty face was the least of his worries. He needed to make sure they were alright.

They hit the affluent area of the city as short cut. Vincent turned the car into a street, a street John knew so well. His gut tightened. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the glass.

"She was beautiful, was she?" he whispered after awhile.

Vincent was silent for awhile.

Then he said, "Yes. She was the most magnificent girl in the party."

And she was hanging onto the arm of Lucas Russo.

Vincent didn't tell him that but John knew without saying that she was. She was always with Lucas.

He didn't go to that party, not because he was being hardheaded, but because he didn't want to see them. It hurt seeing them. It hurt seeing her.

And he wished.

John wished it was still his arm she'd been holding onto all this time.

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A/N:

John's got 99 problems.

No, he does have 99 problems. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

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This was supposed the end of the four part one-shot collection of The Bully series. But there was more to tell so...