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.*･｡. FLARES! .*･｡.
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004.
CHEERING ABOUT
BELONGING.
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While Kennedy was known for zoning out, the girl was equally as known for zoning in on people's conversations; Ken was very nosy.

Was that bad?

   It was only really when people were saying stuff that piqued her interest, or that looked interesting, at least. Sometimes she couldn't help herself. Kennedy heard the smallest snippet, and then she was hooked! The habit was a bad one, and very invasive, but it had yet to land her in a heap of trouble, so she had never gotten herself to stop it. Much like daydreaming, Kennedy couldn't help it. Perhaps people needed to stop being so interested, then she would stop. It'd be easier for her to quit, that way. She just liked to listen. Especially when it was a conversation between two interesting people — then she couldn't help it, at all. Like right now, where Kennedy yearned to hear what Newt was saying to the new greenie. He always made it hard to hear him from far away, so she had to strain her ears like like a dog. What the hell was he saying?

   Did he need to have an accent?

Damn shank!

Something about face-planting? Running? God— Newt was bad at making himself heard. Did he know what an outdoor voice was? Funny how he couldn't speak up now, but yelled in Kennedy's ears when she wouldn't wake up early, in the mornings! Cheek!

   Kennedy watched from the window of the med-jack hut, rudely ignoring the builder and his sprained wrist in front of her. Her lips were pursed in concentration, hands stationary instead of making a decent job of bandaging the poor shank, trying to hear what else Newt had to say to the greenie. It wasn't going to be a particularly interesting conversation, but she wanted to know more about the new greenie, and she wanted to make sure he was doing okay. It was an awfully big change— it was overwhelming, and he had been jittery and anxious.

   Although, he had also been profoundly curious.

   It was trait that didn't always mix too well in the glade. As long as Alby had yet to strangle him for asking questions — which seemed to be the case considering he was all in one piece — then Kennedy had high hope he was going to fit in perfectly. Alas, she still worried.

   In typical Kennedy fashion.

   She had watched him, all afternoon.

   His tour was coming to a close, with Alby; it must have gone well enough, seeing as Newt and Alby were smiling (or, maybe that was laughter at him — either was option equally possible.)

   Most of it, Kennedy had lingered at the window. There wasn't a lot to do in the med-jack hut, and so she had spent her shift staring from afar. Alby wasn't very fair in his decisions: Newt was allowed to head on over and chat, but she wasn't? She had to keep on working? Greenie business was her job, and she was usually sent to assure he had settled in after the tour — not Newt! At this rate, Chuck would be settling that greenie in, before Kennedy did! How was that fair?

   She squinted her eyes in attempt to spot where the boy was now headed off to, although they disappeared from sight rather quickly, leaving her to sigh, when they were no longer in her view. Absently leaning at an awkward angle that made her spine ache, she tried to peer around the window pane, in hopes to catch one last, tiny, little glimpse of him. However, he and Alby were well and truly gone by the time she had made managed. Lips pulling into a frown, she let out a disappointment huff of air. Her body had yet to move, in that same tilted angle, and Kennedy stared blankly at the glade, through the window. A small part of her hoped they would come back. She was dying to her chance to greet the greenie, again. Properly. He had seemed calmer now and wasn't in the slammer. Newt had a formal introduction, where was her one?

"Uh— earth to Kennedy?"

    "Huh—?"

   Kennedy swung back around, head snapping toward the builder who sat with a seemingly sheepish look, but deep beneath it, shank also looked damn smug. Especially when she tripped over her boot and nearly fell down. Then again, it didn't really surprise her. Gally usually looked smug. It was his permanent, resting expression. The boy had usually done something to look that smug, too.

   She was sure she had seen him look smug more than she had ever seen him smile, and she had known Gally for years. Kennedy's eyes flickered down to her hands and she flushed shades of bright pink, realising she was yet to finish tying the bandage on his wrist. Shuck.

    "Sorry, Gal..." she muttered, "Lost in thought."

"Classic, Ken."

    "Not true,"

    "Head in the clouds!"

    "I don't—"

    "Why'd ya think Newt calls you angel face?" He asked her.

"Whatever, shank." Rolling her eyes half-heartedly, Kennedy let out a hum. "My head wasn't in the clouds."

    "Nah," Gally said. "I totally believe you."

    "Gally," she warned.

   Gally snickered, raising the hand that wasn't bandaged in mock defence. Kennedy thought for a second, wondered why she hadn't finished his bandage sooner. She could wrap wrists, both eyes shut.

   Perhaps she did get distracted, sometimes. So, what? All the boys knew that. Maybe she wouldn't admit it, but Kennedy could be an airhead when she got distracted; lost in thought. That would be the reason she hadn't finished tying the bandage. What other reasoning would there be?

   Gally giggled.

   He watched in amusement as she finished up the job, raising his brow as the girl muttered a few intelligible words under her breath and fumbled to continue with the bandage — twirling the material around his arm expertly, Kennedy relied on muscle memory. She'd done it enough times to memorise it. Day in and day out, she lived her life tying bandages. Sometimes her muscle memory yearned to take her running, which was always a strange sensation. Kennedy's running days were long over.

"Distracted by ya new greenie, shank?" Gally quipped, a smirk sitting his lips. He snickered, "Ya seem taken with him, mother hen."

    "Funny."

    "I know, I am."

    "Had me fooled, Gal."

    "Good at that, too."

    "Mhm."

   Her eyes narrowed at the boy, not finding amusement in the old nickname he had given her — purely for teasing purposes —, and then quickly dropped the glare, ultimately unfazed by his words in the long run. Gally didn't intimidate Kennedy; literally, never.

   She heaved a sigh and looped either end of the bandage, tying it into a neat knot and patting it once.

"Just worried Alby'll be hard on him..." Kennedy said, a shrug in her shoulders. It was true, she was worried Alby would hate the kid. "He's a curious one, and we all know Alby hates 'em curious."

   That was true.

   He supposed she had a point.

   She always did.

   Although Gally could be the biggest slinthead in the glade when he felt like it — which was more often than not — the builder and the med-jack had always gotten along fairly well. Sure— he hadn't been the best guy in the glade, and no one picked him first to be on their team in their annual glader game of pumpkin throwing, though he was usually a captain so no one really got to pick. Regardless, he had always been good to Kennedy. He picked on the boys when he fancied a laugh and a jeer; he'd even tried it on with Alby once, yet he had only ever teased Kennedy lightly. It was brotherly, when his taunting came out, and she would return it as a sister would. Their friendship was like that. They would joke around, when everything felt light and airy in the glade, and Gally was a decent kid.

   Kennedy might pick him, first.

   She cared about all of the boys, even Gally.

"Your lil' greenie'll be fine," Gally rolled his eyes, with a scoff. It was obvious this was about him. Kennedy had been staring at that newbie all afternoon, and while he didn't understand that worry, it had been clear as day to him. There had been curious kids before; there was no need to worry about this one.

   Kennedy scowled at his choice of words, "My greenie?"

    "Yeah— it's like you adopted it."

    "Him, Gally."

    "See!" He argued.

    "I have not ad—"

    "It's exactly like that!"

    "Is not!"

    "It totally is," Gally said, "Like you did with Chuck, but more possessive and stuff."

    "I'm not possessive!" She tried to defend, lamely. "Chuck's only little, okay? Someone's gotta look after him. The new greenie isn't little— he doesn't need adopting, or nothin'."

    "You've adopted him," Gally teased.

    "No—"

    "Just like a stray dog,"

    "I have not—!" Kennedy tripped over her words, "He isn't—!"

   Gally huffed, "Look— Ken, the shank'll be fine. Alby isn't gonna kill him!" His words were careless, unbothered about the new kid.

There was something off about him to Gally, though he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He shrugged and pulled a face, "Kid'll try shit out, get a job, wait a month, and then he won't even be the newbie anymore!"

"I know how it works, Gal." Tossing him an irritated look, not a happy glader when the boys tried to explain things to her as if she hadn't been there longer than most of them, Kennedy peered away from his wrist and to his face, "Don't lift anything too heavy; don't put it under strain; don't be an idiot. Diagnosis?" She feigned they were doctor and patient, "You'll live. How unfortunate." He sent a glare her way, which she returned; "Now, get out."

"Ouch," he acted hurt.

"Bye!"

   He chuckled at her but nodded. Gally had been in there far too many times for it to really matter that she hadn't made it much of an enthusiastic visit, or put much thought into his wrists condition. Don't put it under strain, it wasn't detailed. Nevertheless, he had never really listened to that specific part of the recovery process. Perhaps that what why he always came back, so often.

   Standing from his place on the cot, he swiftly strode towards the door, only pausing to peer out of the window for a moment before he fully made his exit.

"Looks like the greenie's in Chuck's hands now," he noted and glanced back at her, pursing his lips when she busied herself with reorganising items. Maybe he had teased her a bit too much. Gally sighed and continued his walk out, "See ya at the bonfire, shank."

"Yeah,"

   Kennedy nodded her head once, not caring to look back at him in order to tell if he had seen the action, or not.

   Rather, the girl continued to place equipment back where it was supposed to belong, returning everything she had used to strap his wrist to its rightful place. Once Kennedy could be sure that he was completely gone and away in the far distance, the girl turned away from the cupboards and sighed through her nose. She leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes, giving herself a few moments to gather her thoughts. Why had that bugged her, so much? It wasn't the first time Gally had ever teased her. And, why was she getting a grump on because he had mentioned the greenie? Was she being a bit overly protective?

   Her greenie? What had he meant by that?

   Then again, it was Gally — did he mean anything, by it?

   The newbie had only arrived a short while prior, and she'd only spoken to him twice. Kennedy hardly knew the poor shank. But she worried for greenies, especially the curious ones, and he was really curious. So, yes— she worried. Was that such a crime? It was what she always did. Kenendy cared every boy, that came up in the box.

It seemed that their newest addition to the family was more than curious, however. In fact, he was the most curious she had seen in a long while. He asked too many questions at once and demanded to know where he was and why, which she couldn't blame him for, but most greenies were too scared to be so adamant for answers — not on their first day, at least. Usually, they opted to tremble in the corner of the slammer and klunk their pants, then dare to ask their questions on day two. Kennedy found it refreshing; he was different, to the rest. But, because he was different, he was going to test Alby to his minutes. Maybe she did worry. It was alarming too; Kennedy didn't want him to be a victim of hassle, from Alby. They all knew how much their leader despised the curiosity when he couldn't make up answers he didn't have. She was worried that greenie would get himself banished, on his first day!

   There were no issue with her worries.

It was valid; the greenie getting banished was a normal concern, right? What was the issue?

Kennedy couldn't understand why everyone seemed so shocked that she cared for the greenie, as if she hadn't cared for any of the newbies before. He was new and he was scared, no doubt. They all had been in that situation, and they knew how it felt.

Why were they so hard on him?

   They all seemed to think that she was going soft.

   When, in actuality, they were all going too rough. Poor kid was one of the older ones to come up, around her current age, but he was still new. Age made him no less sensitive.

She was unable to dwell on the prospect for long, though, when a shout echoed from across the glade and hit her ears with a smack!

    "Hey—!"

    "Get off me!"

   Brows cinched together, Kennedy dropped the disinfectant that sat in her hands and deserted the homestead. Her gaze narrowed, eyes squinting against the sun as she tried to find their commotion and where it had come from. How long had she been zoned out, in there? Shuck, knows! When she found the commotion, Kennedy'd been positive steam came out of her ears. She wasn't happy. Not, at all — actually, Kennedy was raging.

"Quit it!"

   Newt mirrored her actions from the other side of the glade, the two meeting eyes as they jogged toward the scene. In ideal worlds, they'd resolve the problem before Alby even knew about what had started.

"What the hell, Gally?" Kennedy immediately jumped the gun as she approached the maze doors. "Stop!"

"He tried to leave!"

"Get off me!"

"Greenie—" she tried.

"Back off!" He snapped, panicked.

   Her frown deepened, watching him scramble to get up from the dirt, yelling out words that were messy and inaudible when Gally's hands reached out to grab him. Shooting Gally another firm glare, Kennedy gingerly stepped foreword — no doubt Alby would have heard the scuffle, and she couldn't basically sense him figuring out a suitable punishment for the greenie if he didn't calm down. Damn kid couldn't catch a break!

    "Calm! Calm—" Gally hollered, "Calm!"

   Gally glanced at Newt, a signal for him to take over before he'd punched the greenie in the face without a second thought. The kid bugged Gally, even if he still didn't really know what was going on.

"Mate—"

"Stop!" Greenie yelled.

"Whoa— take it easy!" Newt held up his hands, in surrender.

"Calm down," Kennedy mimicked his stance, close by his side. He spared her a glance, acknowledging that she was present, and she hoped that perhaps it would be calming to the boy. During his time so far, she seemed most likeable.

    "Just calm down— alright?" Newt suggested.

"I can't!"

   He stumbled further towards the doors, but not quite enough to get pulled into them. Regardless, they all held their breath when it looked like he would fall straight through them. Greenie was much too overwhelmed to even notice the way they had stiffened; "What is wrong with you guys?" He demanded, "Why can't I go, in there?"

    "Hey, calm down..." Kennedy said calmly, taking a slow step in his direction. When he didn't back away from her movements, she let out a breath and lowered her hands. She proceeded to edge her way to where he stood, but stayed far enough away as to not alarm him. The last thing she needed was him freaking out, and running through the doors— he had made habit of going too close to them already, and he had only been around for a matter of hours. They might have to put him on a rope and tie him where they knew that they could see him, "We're just tryna protect ya, alright?"

He shook his head, "Why won't you tell me, what's out there?"

"It's for your own good." Alby.

   His presence struck silence upon the gladers. For his own sake, Ken hoped the greenie would calm down before Alby made him.

   But, it was quite the opposite — Alby appeared to trigger a new annoyance within him, and it was then that the greenie started his shouting even louder, his voice raised to match his distress. It was a wonder Alby didn't explode.

    "No!" He spat.

"Greenie—"

"No!" His cheeks red and blazing with heat. A sheen had taken over his forehead as it beaded with sweat, "You— you can't just keep me, here!"

Alby looked down at Kennedy, who pursed her lips.

"We can't let you leave," Alby said.

   When Kennedy didn't try and tell the greenie otherwise, he had attempted to meet her eye, watching her look away with a broken stare. He seemed so lost and so afraid, with his eyes screaming at her to help him; it was hard to admit that, this time, she couldn't. What could she do? Rules were rules, and they were enforced for a damn good reason. Still, Kennedy couldn't bare to look at him. Not when there was nothing she could possibly do to change that. After all, it was Alby's word that was final. Well— at least, that was what their newbie had learned in his short time, there. This Kennedy girl had seemed to be the only one on his side. He could have sworn she had had been defending him earlier, but now she was just like the rest of them. He felt betrayed.

   She had taken their side when he had only wanted answers. Out of all of them, the greenie had thought that maybe she would have been the one to give them to him. Apparently not.

   He groaned, "Why not?"

"Because—"

A groan.

   As if on cue, with the most perfect of timing they had ever had, the grumbling of the maze walls harmonised with the shrieks of metal against concrete. The group of teenagers glanced knowingly at the doors, fully aware of what was happening, while the newest addition to their group had spun around so quickly, he very nearly toppled straight to the ground.

   An aggressive gust of air hit their cheeks and a light blanket of dust floated towards them. Kennedy let out a wheeze, instinctively raising her hand to cover her eyes, the movements she made being in perfect synchronisation with the boys dotted around her stance.

   The greenie had no words, watching the maze doors close with a metallic thump!  Just silence.

   It was palpable.

"Next time," Gally spat, "I'll let you leave."

He didn't lie.

————

"Light 'em up, boys!"

   Kennedy watched in amusement as the group of boys lit their bonfire, cheering with their glasses of moonshine high to the sky.

"Hell yeah!"

"Yeah!"

"That's right!"

"Party! Party! Party! Party!"

"Woah!"

"Go, Frypan!"

   Every time they started a bonfire, the teenagers acted as though it were the very first time, all over again — it was endearing, to see the fresh excitement on their faces, and Kennedy loved it. Beautiful, her boys were, when happy. They all looked so happy.

   They shoved at each other playfully, giggling like young children and throwing their bodies around the greenery most haphazardly, dancing as they would call it. All of them wiggled, jumping like fleas and kicking their limbs about. It definitely was not a real dance, the girl was sure of it. Despite having no memories, she was positive to forget such terrible moves would have been impossible. How could you forget something so horrific? No dance could have been that poor — dances were meant to be good.

   Regardless, their happiness brought her an indescribable joy.

   Kennedy loved her boys. Perhaps they were silly shanks with no rhythm, especially with a jar of Gally's moonshine down the back of their throats, but Kennedy loved them.

   Her eyes travelled the crowd, smiling a some of the kids without question. The sun had set and the bonfire was keeping them aglow in the deep night, the warmth illuminating their features in orange hues. It kept them from catching the chill of the late air. Or, it could have been the drink working away in her system — her first glass'd already downed and she had discarded the empty jar, now hunting for another. Her fingers were slowly losing the sharp nip of cold as the drink made her skin hum, and her steps were a little wobbly, as she strolled her way through the huddles of boys. She wanted their drinks, mainly, but none of them were full. Kennedy continued the walk until she passed Gally's fighting pit, pausing briefly to snicker along with the crowd as he threw Henry to the ground and out the circle. She rolled her eyes, but clapped her hands. Gally had a slick smirk on his lips.

    "Wanna turn, Ken?"

    "Nah," she said.

    "Scared?"

    "Just don't wanna embarrass you, shank!"

   The boys ooh'd and Gally shot her a look, to which Kennedy was smiling cheekily and proceeding to walk through the crowd. There in the glade, Kennedy had learned it best not to challenge him. He rarely lost, and even if she did win, he would be too butthurt to let a girl beat him. They would have to fight, all over again. She wanted to drink, instead.

   When she caught sight of two mops of hair, blonde and brown, on the other side of a log, Kennedy couldn't help but frown deeply — she found it hard to not wonder why Newt got to talk to greenie, while she didn't. She watched them for a moment, twitching with a profound anticipation. It made her fidgety; maybe that was moonshine.

   For a moment, she contemplated joining them— only for a split moment, but she decided against it. It probably wasn't for the best. Maybe she was being possessive?

   She wanted to talk with the greenie, but perhaps that wasn't an idea for the record books. Perhaps the greenie wouldn't even want to talk to her. No one had ever really pushed Newt aside; there was always something that made a greenie want to talk to the boy. He was just so nice. And he gave in easily, so Kennedy had little doubt that he was answering all of the boys questions that he could, ones that Alby refused to, and Kennedy didn't particularly want to get in the way of that. Okay— she did want to, really badly, but Newt had it coverer. Somehow, Kennedy resisted and moved along.

   Instead, she scouted out the next best person.

"Minho!"

Said runner rose a brow, already knowing who was calling out to him before even looking.

As he peered over his shoulder, the she-bean cheered. Swiping a mason jar from a random boy with an enthusiastic grin, Kennedy started over to her friend. The boy she had stolen it from had just laughed, and rolled his eyes before heading towards the pit, where Gally had proceeded to throw around victims.

   Kennedy peered into the glass jar rather happily. It was filled to the very top with Gally's secret recipe, and she eagerly took a long sip of it, as though in fear of someone snatching it back.

With the new greenbean causing havoc, it had been quite a day, and Kennedy had needed something to make her giggle like there was no tomorrow. So she did giggle, plenty, as she pranced over to where Minho had been watching. Call him bad, but Minho loved seeing drunk Kennedy — it was a personal favourite of his, and he loved to tease her about it the next day, even more. It was fantastic.

    "Happy?" He asked.

    "Very."

    "Whatever, shank." Minho snickered.

   He finished a mouthful of dinner, and watched her perch down on the log he occupied, sitting right next to him with a large smile.

    "Coulda just grabbed your own drink," he noted.

"But I didn't,"

    "Clearly."

    "Your point is...?"

"Nothin'— didn't have one," he shrugged, sighing like what she had done was a stress to him — spoilers, it wasn't — and like he was never one to steal a drink — more spoilers, he was. Minho sat, and he watched her take a big gulp of the drink. Then, Minho nudged her side; "Don't drink too much, shank! It's ya big moment, soon!"

    "I'm thirsty," she opposed.

    "Your point is...?"

   Kennedy grunted when he echoed her own words, and sent him a shove to the side, nearly forcing him off the log altogether. Minho glared when she giggled, rolling his eyes.

   He threw his elbow around her neck and took her in a headlock, a scream passing her lips when he rubbed his knuckles on her hair and scuffed it up. Kennedy nearly spilled her drink as she yelled in protest, batting his arm.

    "Minho—mf!"

    "What?"

    "Get—"

    "What's that, she-bean? Can't hear you!"

    "Ge—mf! Get off—"

    "Still can't hear yo— ow!"

    "Ha!" Kennedy yelled, watching him hold his gut and grunt in pain. Her elbow had fit perfectly in his ribs, it seemed.

   Minho promptly let go and slumped to the side, groans of pain passing his lips. It was dramatic, but still made Kennedy feel quite good about her strength. He grumbled a few choice words, forcing himself back upright. When he spotted her smile, Minho rolled his eyes; "Remind me why ya never go up against Gally, again? You're lethal, shank!"

    "Can't be bothered," she shrugged.

    "Why not?"

    "Dunno," Kennedy said.

    "You'd beat him,"

    "Maybe."

    "No maybe, about it." Minho responded, "You're a force."

   She rolled her eyes and gave him a lighter nudge, eyes catching sight of the greenie and Newt. He was giving him a less formal of tours than what Alby had, pointing out certain people around the glade and showing him the ropes. When Newt pointed at her and Minho, Kennedy swiftly her eyes and took another big gulp of her moonshine. It disguised the red to her cheeks when she felt eyes of the greenie linger on her form, and she quickly looked back at the pair once they had turned back to one another.

    "Ya talk to the greenie, much?"

    "Hm?"

   Kennedy peered at Minho, brows furrowed, then acknowledged his question; "Nah— not really."

    "Why not?"

    "Alby," she explained

    "Ah," Minho nodded once, understanding.

    "Yeah."

    "Why don't ya go talk, to him?" The runner proposed, "Don't ya always talk, to the greenies?" Minho knew that answer, already.

    "I guess," Kennedy agreed, "But he's dead curious and I wanna drink, more." She told him — which, wasn't a total lie. "Besides," it was quiet for a moment as she stared at them, and then looked the other direction, "Newt got to him, first."

   While she took another drag of her drink, jar nearing empty, he watched her. Minho wasn't thick — he could see the tension in her shoulders, and the clench of her jaw. She was dying to take over, to talk to the greenie and play her usual role; preppy smile, and all. It was hard for her not to do that. That was what Kennedy thrived on in the glade, she loved it.

   Minho was about to tell her to ignore Alby and go on over there, chat up a storm with the greenie and loosen that tension. But, they weren't able to discuss anything further, when a loud shout echoed.

    "Woah—!"

"Nice one, greenie!"

"Shank!"

Kennedy looked over, brows knotted as the greenie recovered, a frown on his face as he adjusted his shirt. His torso flashed for that brief moment. She flushed pink.

    "What d'ya say, greenie?" Gally asked him.

    "What?" He frowned.

    "Wanna see whatcha made of?"

    "Greenie!"

    "Greenie!"

     "Greenie! Greenie! Greenie! Greenie!"

   Straightening up, Kennedy leaned forwards in her seat. More, and more, gladers started to cheer for the newbie.

    "Greenie! Greenie! Greenie!"

    "Show him, greenie!"

    "Yeah, shank!"

    "Show him!"

    "Go, greenie!" Chuck cheered.

    "Yeah!"

   A collective holler came from the teens when he stepped inside the circle, rolling his shoulders out. Kennedy quirked a brow, was he really gonna take on Gally? Either this kid was dumb, or fearless. It was possible he was both, she supposed. Shank seemed it, anyways.

    "Woo!"

    "Yeah!"

    "Rules are simple, greenie." Gally explained, "I try to push you out the circle, and you try to stay in for longer than three minutes."

    "That's it?" He asked.

    "Yup," Gally popped the p. "You down for that, or not?"

    "I'm down."

   Cheers and laughter echoed, the boys thrilled that the greenie's plan was to take on Gally at his own game. What a dumb shank! It was going to end horrifically. At least, it seemed that way when he was pushed to the ground in the first couple of seconds. Kennedy grimaced at the sand in his face, and in his mouth.

    "Get up!"

    "Keep goin'!"

    "C'mon, greenie. We're not done, yet."

   Greenie stood up, "Stop calling me greenie."

    "Stop calling ya, greenie?" Gally mocked him, "Okay. Whatcha wanna be called, then? Shank?"

   More laughter.

   Even Kennedy snorted.

    "What d'ya think, boys?" Gally looked out to the crowd, while he jogged on the spot. Their cheers got him riled up, "Think this greenie looks like a shank?"

    "Shank! Shank!"

Using his glory against him, the greenie threw himself at Gally's middle, trying to take him. But, Gally twisted out of his grip easily, and tossed him aside. They laughed as he rolled around. Kennedy and Minho had joined the crowd, now.

They stood up front, watching closely.

Perhaps sober, Kennedy would have stopped it. Gally had their newbie thrown around like a rag doll, but she seemed not to care, all that much. It was amusing. Of course, she would intervene the moment he got seriously injured, but for now she was enjoying it. If he needed help, she and Newt were both there to step in. Though, like Kennedy, Newt was enjoying the show as well. He stood across the way, watching with raised brows and a drink in his hand. They were considerably less in charge when they had Gally's moonshine. That was when they were as childish as the rest of them, less tight, more loose.

"Ya know, what?"

"What?"

"Yeah, Gally— what?"

"Think I've settled on shank!" He quipped.

Greenie lunged.

He caught Gally's waist and the taller boy pushed him around the pit, but the greenie soon took him off guard — he turned the slightest bit to the side and let Gally's size work against him, their embrace ending as he dodged left. Gally went flying down, hitting the ground, unable to stop himself. He landed, thump!

The crowd roared. Kennedy was wide eyed, perhaps she would have to apologise for doubting the newbie. There was more to him.

More than met the eye.

Impressive.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

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