"Three rules: 1. Never underestimate your opponent. Expect the unexpected. 2 Take it ouside. Never start a fight inside the bar. 3. Be nice." Based on the movie Road House with Patrick Swayze. YYxY...
I do NOT own Road House, any of the songs used throughout the story, or Yugioh.
A sign flickered in the night. The neon lights blinking out the words “Bandstand Live Music.” Happy and excited voices filtered out of the open bar. A red Ferrari raced into the parking lot and stopped. A blonde woman in a short black dress and high heels stepped out. She made her way towards the bar. A limousine pulled up behind her and a well dressed man stepped out. His hair was receding and he had blue eyes. The skin around his eyes and mouth were wrinkled from many years of laughter. He handed the driver a couple of bills and the limo pulled away. The man showed his I.D. to the bouncer.
“Go ahead,” he said after checking it over.
The man walked into the bar and glanced around. People were talking loudly and excitedly over the music. They surged all around him, dancing, drinking, and having fun. He paused just inside the entrance and scanned the crowd. Another song started up as he glanced at several different things.
“We work our bodies weary to stay alive
There must be more to livin' than nine to five
Why should we wait for some better time
There may not even be a tomorrow
Ain't no sense in losing your mind
I'm gonna make it worth the ride.”
His eyes flickered to the couples dancing. There were couples sitting and drinking and talking. A disco ball flashed above and some more people got up and danced. He made his way down into the bar and paused near one of the tables. He watched as the bartender filled up 8 shot glasses at once. His eyes roamed down the bar and settled on one person in particular.
“Don't you know
I won't give up until I'm satisfied
Don't you know
Why should I stop until I'm satisfied.”
The man at the end of the bar held himself confidently. Tan arms were crossed and his head bobbed in time with the music. His sharp crimson eyes alert and constantly watching the crowd. His spiky tri-colored hair adding to his mysterious appearance. It was ebony with blonde streaks. The tips of his hair were tipped in crimson. He wore a plain blue t-shirt and jeans with scuffed up work boots. A girls scream caught his attention and he calmly surveyed the situation. Two girls sat at a table with what appeared to be their boyfriends.
“Bastard! What do you take me for?” the girl with short red hair asked.
The brown haired man sneered and slapped a hundred dollar bill on the table, “About a hundred bucks.”
He jerked his hand away as she stuck a knife down in between his fingers. He snarled and shoved her chair out from under her with his foot. She landed on the floor with a yelp and 4 bouncers immediately surrounded the two men. The other guy, a blonde, punched one of the bouncers and the two were immediately restrained. The crimson eyed male strode calmly over to the group and gazed at them.
“I think you should go.”
The brown haired guy huffed, “Hey, man, we were just having a little fun.”
The man studied them and nodded once. The bouncers released the two. He turned to go back to the bar when the brown haired man lunged forward and grabbed the knife. He lunged forward and sliced the other’s arm. The spiky haired guy turned and looked at his arm and then back at the other man.
“Come on, Yami. I always wanted to try and take you,” he said, “I think I can do it.”
The bouncers threw the two men outside and Yami calmly followed after. He stood in front of the bouncers and smirked.
“Come on,” the guy taunted, “Whacha waiting for? Chicken?”
Yami’s smirk grew and he shook his head as he turned to go back inside the bar. The two men yelled and hollered. The bouncers merely laughed at them and formed a line, preventing them from getting back into the bar. The man from the limo had followed them to the entrance to watch. Yami passed by him and he looked out past the bouncers to the two men who were still cussing up a storm. Yami walked through the crowd to a small room in the back. He closed the door and pulled out a small sewing kit. After peeling off the t-shirt carefully, he assessed the damage to his arm. It wasn’t very deep, but it was still going to need stitches. He wiped some of the blood away with an alcohol swab and threaded a needle. A mirror was placed along one wall and he went over to it and proceeded to sew up his arm. The music got louder for a moment when the door opened and the old man from earlier slipped inside. Yami glanced at him and continued to sew.
“Got a moment?” he asked, “You’re Yami, right?”
Yami looked up and briefly studied the other man, “I don’t know you.”
“My name’s Jack Kenyon,” Jack said, “I own a little bar down near Kansas City. Used to be a respectable club. Now it’s the kind of place only the rats hang out at.”
Yami appeared to be ignoring him as he kept working on his arm, but he heard every word the other man had said. His crimson eyes were intent on the wound on his arm.
“I came into a little bit of money, and I’d like to fix the place up. I need some help,” Jack continued, “I need the best.”
“Mahado’s the best,” Yami said.
Jack tilted his head and smiled, “Mahado’s getting old. I want you.”
Yami remained silent a moment as he finished. He cut the thread on his arm and sterilized the needle before putting it back. He wiped the blood away and turned around, “5,000 up front, 500 a night, you pay all medical expenses.”
Jack gulped and nodded, “Fair enough.”
Yami crossed his arms, “I leave when the job’s done.”
Jack reached in his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper, “I have a plan ticket for you.”
Yami shook his head and replied, “I don’t fly. Too dangerous.”
The door opened again and a short brown haired man walked in. He glanced briefly at Jack before turning to Yami. His eyes widened slightly as they fell on the cut in Yami’s arm, “Yami, you alright?”
Yami turned around and packed up the kit and threw away the bloodied items, “Just a scratch. By the way, Oscar, the Bandstands yours.”
Oscar walked towards Yami slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Yami sighed, “It means I’m outta here.”
“Great,” Oscar said sarcastically as he placed his hands on his hips.
Jack walked over to the door and opened it. Before he walked out he turned to Yami and smiled again.
“You know, I thought you’d be bigger.”
Yami chuckled and shook his head in amusement.