Snippet Wednesday: A sip from Call me Interested

I spent Nanowrimo slaving away and trying to see if I could finish through the longest writing I’d ever done and the only writing I’d done in all of 2015. Yeah. 2015 was not my year of writing. To be honest, the last couple of years has been kind of a struggle for me.

So when Nano came on and I said this was the year I was going to do it, the year I was going to get that winner’s badge, I applied myself and started writing and surprise surprise, by the end of Nanowrimo I was at 68k. By the time I finished the first draft of the novel, thirteen days after Nanowrimo ended, I was at 95k. And that spurred me on to start a short piece I’m hoping to finish by the end of the year.

So, 2015 might not have been my year of writing a lot, but I’m still ending it on a good note :).

So, onto the snippet from my Nanowrimo novel which I’ve tentatively titled, Call me interested. Please pardon the typos. This is totally unedited and I hope you enjoy…

It was a beauty of a shiner. Red, swollen with his eyes already darkening. If they’d not been surrounded by men who ranged from one-eighty to three hundred pounds, who clearly wanted to deck someone for knocking Daniel down and who were just holding out because the decker had been a woman, he would have hugged Serena. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take down the asshole himself, but he still remembered how their fights always ended. Lying horizontal, energy spent, face lax and with cum on both their bodies.

Daniel groaned and one of the men exchanged the now warm beer can for an ice-cold one and he placed it on his swollen eye. His eyes caught Sung Joon’s and a wry smile flitted across his face.


Sung Joon’s fingers tightened on his drink. It was either that or smash the thing on Daniel Rosa’s gorgeous face. A face that was smiling at him, pretending like nothing had changed and he could still work Sung Joon and reduce him to a stuttering mess by calling his name. Shit! He was getting worked up. two years of work gone down the drain just because Daniel Rosa called his name.

Vern took the can from its resting position on Daniel’s face and whistled. “Damn Serena. That is one shiner.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t place it where I’d actually wanted to,” Serena said, bristling at the chuckles that accompanied her words.

“And where would that have been,” Antwon asked, still chuckling.

“His balls.”

It was instinct. The way every man in the room raised their hands to protect their jewels with a wince. Even Sung Joon was no exception.


“That’s brutal ‘Rena,” Vern wailed.

Serena rolled her eyes. “It might be brutal, but some people,” she gave a pointed look at Daniel who had now dropped the can and was staring back at her. “Some people deserve it. Or won’t you agree Daniel.”

“I wouldn’t know. Time has taught me that violence is not always the answer.”

Sung Joon burst out laughing, surprising even himself. “Coming from a cop? That’s rich. Or have you quit the force?”

“No. Still a badge carrying member of law enforcement.”

“So, you’re a cop that arrests criminals by handing them flowers and asking politely that they follow you to the slammer?” Serena’s sarcasm was obvious.

The others laughed but not Daniel. He opened the can and watched Serena as he drank. She didn’t look down, her resting bitch face still on even as the laughter died down. Sung Joon felt it. Felt when the energy changed, when tension replaced the levity and everyone finally picked up on the animosity. And all he wanted was for neither of them to bring him into the conversation.

“Do you have a problem with me Serena?”

Serena scoffed as did Sung Joon. “You have got to be kidding me. Did you seriously just ask me that? Like you don’t know the very obvious answer.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you would I?”

Serena stood, all five-three against Daniel’s six feet. She pointed at Sung Joon causing all the eyes in the room to swivel to his direction. Not Daniel though. Daniel’s eyes had been shuffling between staring at Serena and trying to communicate something with Sung Joon. Things that Sung Joon most certainly was not interested in hearing. And now the eyes had found their final resting place and Sung Joon found himself staring at another set of brown eyes. But whilst Barby’s eyes had been a light light brown, Daniel’s were so brown, they were almost black.

“So you think any friend would welcome you back with open arms after what you did to him?” She spat out. “You think a true friend wouldn’t want you hung on a stake, then drawn and quartered?”

Sung Joon tried clearing his throat. When that didn’t work, he tried pinching her. Serena though was on a roll. Chugging forward and totally forgetting that she was in a public space having a shouting match with his ex. Although in this situation, it was more like she did the shouting whilst Daniel continued to look confused. How on earth did he fucking do that?

“I still don’t get it. What did I do wrong?”

“You have got to be kidding me.” She pushed Sung Joon forward until he was right… there. In front of those eyes. And that mouth. The arms and that body. “He has not been back home in two years. He cut off contact with everyone because he’d thought, had boasted that the man he loved would stand by him. And you left. Couldn’t deal with it and left him alone. He came home to a bloody empty apartment and a pathetic piece of paper with a sorry excuse of an apology and you don’t know what you did wrong. Are you fucking kidding me!”

Sung Joon heard the silence. Even the other patrons of the bar had gone silent. Everyone was totally there. Listening. Aware of how pathetic he’d been. He could see it in their eyes. Hear it in the unspoken words. Serena was breathing hard, partly from exhaustion. But he heard the gasp. Knew she knew how much she’d fucked up. How she’d in spilling vitriol down the throat of Daniel, made the entire room aware of something he’d always kept hidden. And Daniel. He saw him. The widening of the eyes. He heard him. The intake of breathe. And the face that had always stayed unreadable except in moments he got carried away suddenly became an open book. Anger. Shame. Remorse. Pity.

It was the pity he couldn’t stand. His hands tightened but couldn’t go well enough around the glass. A glass he realized still had some beer in it. He downed it. When shit hit the fan, piss in a bottle did not taste so bad after all.

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