FicWad

Every bit of Brendon wanted run and avoid this fight, every bit except that one small part of humanity left that was still not convinced that he could survive a fight with these three thugs. They were surrounding him now and it was only a small amount of time before one of them would make the first move. It was the man on the right, the one that smelled like day-old salami.

It was an easy trick for Brendon to dodge the man's right fist as it swung towards his face, easier still to counter with a left hook of his own. The man was down for the count before the second thug even stepped in for his chance. With Brendon's back facing the second thug it took a greater amount of force and lesser amount of grace to engage and stop this one. A club cracked across his shoulder blades before he got a chance to stop the second swing of the make-shift weapon. With a swift jab, Brendon's hand thrust out to the throat of the offending man, he smelled like fish, and crushed the windpipe in his fist.

Now for the third man, it had only taken a few seconds to dispatch the two men and now Brendon spun to face the one that smelled like a wet dog. He and his nose were going to enjoy clobbering this one into unconsciousness.

Surprisingly the thug didn't try to attack with a punch but instead reached straight for Brendon's throat with both hands. Caught off guard by the speed and originality of the attack he could do nothing to prevent the large hands getting a grip. With a cough of surprise he grasped at the man's wrists struggling to break the hold. He was not succeeding in breaking the tightening grip and it wouldn't be long before he would start experiencing some serious side effects—like blacking out or death.

In an act of instinct, Brendon suddenly relaxed his body and let his dead weight drop to the cobble stones beneath him, taking the now off-balanced thug with him. In the brief moment that the grip was lessened, Brendon brought his foot up to the stomach of the thug effectively kicking the bigger man off of him and sending him flying. The man landed on his back a few meters away from him, but was on his feet with surprising speed while Brendon rolled over trying to regain his breath. This man was surprisingly strong compared to the other two thugs.

The thug grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him up to his feet, his face now inches from the other's. All Brendon saw was a sneer, filled with yellowed teeth, before an explosion of pain shot through his stomach as a fist connected with his flesh. He was dropped to the ground and again he was surprised with the strength of the blow. But the surprise didn't last long before a mud-encrusted boot smashed into his skull sending him hurtling into unconsciousness.

-

When Brendon woke up again, the three criminals were nowhere to be seen. With a grimace more of disgust than pain, he pushed himself off the ground and went back on his way to the cabaret.

It was only a mile away from where he was and before long he found himself knocking on the door. A burly looking man opened it and looked down at him menacingly, waiting for Brendon to introduce himself. "Um... Hello. I'm Brendon, the new musician," he said with a slight feeling of awkwardness.

The large man continued to silently stare at Brendon, simply regarding him with a nonchalance, before he stepped aside and let him in. "You can find Mr. Shipman at the bar," he instructed. Brendon nodded once before he stepped past and made his way through the dimly lit saloon area of the cabaret.

It didn't take him long to find Clarence in the nearly empty bar, it was still too early for patrons to start filtering in. He stepped up to the older man, happy to see his old friend. "Hello, Clarence!" Shipman turned with a bright smile on his mustached face to see his young employee. "Brennan, my lad! It's so good to see you, you young rascal!" The rosy cheeked man boomed at him as he pulled Brendon into a hug. The younger man returned it happily before he pulled away from his boss. "It's good to see you too," he said, "But you have to remember to call me Brendon now."

Clarence nodded in understanding and gently started pulling Brendon towards the door to the side of the stage, "Right you are. Now let's get you settled in with the rest of the lot, shall we?" They entered into the back stage area and headed over to the orchestra pit where the other musicians had gathered to rehearse. Walking into the low-walled area, Shipman stopped just inside the gate a pulled Brendon to stand in front of him. "Gents!" He shouted, getting the small orchestra's attention, "I present you with our new pianist and male singer, Brendon!" The band of men looked at him with a mix of indifference, polite friendliness and curiosity. So far so good.

Brendon gave them a small wave, he hadn't met any of these men before and it had been agreed between him and Clarence to hide the fact that he had worked at the cabaret in the past. They all returned the gesture with waves, nods, and grunts of acknowledgment except for one. A tall brunette man rose from behind the percussion corner and walked over to Brendon. He paused in front of the shorter man and let his blue eyes lazily take in his appearance before they narrowed in what appeared to be hostility. Brendon offered the somewhat menacing figure a small and friendly smile. The taller man's face returned to the lazy expression he had before and blinked once before shoving past Brendon, his shoulder connecting with him as he passed.

An awkward silence descended over the orchestra pit before Brendon looked in confusion at his boss. "Do I smell bad or something?" He said trying to lighten the mood. The owner apologetically shook his head, "Oh don't let his cold attitude shake you, lad. Spencer's all bark and no bite, he won't cause you any trouble." Brendon nodded his head slowly, not entirely convinced.


A/N: I love you guys for reading and reviewing. You seriously make my day.