Back in the Flash Fiction Game

So after a few weeks vacation from the whole flash fiction thing, I am back.

As always it is on the behest of Chuck Wendig, who sent us here this time to generate our little story seed. I clicked 3 times, but ended up using the first sentence that came to me. It is as follows:

The story starts when your protagonist kisses a stranger. Another character is a thief who plans to use your protagonist as a scapegoat.

Here is the resulting story:

A Night at the Disco

by Trine Toft Schmidt

The dance floor wobbled delightfully under Ellen’s spinning feet, and the flashing coloured lights made everything she saw blurry. She giggled, enjoying the wooziness that tickled in her brain.

She hit something behind her and came to a stop.  A bloke, dark hair, dark eyes, came into view. He had beautiful lips, slightly parted and without thinking Ellen threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.  He smelled of aftershave and orange and his lips were soft.

“Oy!” He said into her mouth, his breath hot and lemony on her taste buds. She broke off the kiss when he pushed at her shoulders, but kept her arms around his neck.

“Sorry love, I am spoken for.” He unwrapped her arms from his neck, smiling a little. Her heart was thumping rather fast, but fell back into a more normal rhythm when Pippa stepped into view, looking embarrassed.

“Whoa girl, what’re you doing?” She whispered in Ellen’s ears and offered a shrug to the guy, leaning in closer to him so she could shout down the music.

“Sorry about that, she’s a bit drunk, boyfriend broke up this morning and all, yeah? She’s not normally like this.” Ellen stuffed her fingers into her ears and hummed loudly to drown out Pippa and spun around again. When she stopped again the guy had his back turned, on his way toward the bar.

“He smelled nice.”  Ellen raised her hands over her head, ready for another spin. Pippa  rolled her eyes.

“Yeah perhaps, but you can’t go round kissing strangers.”

Ellen couldn’t see why not. It had been a nice kiss and all.

 

 

Jon pushed a gin and tonic over to Ricki as he slid back into his seat, but she just glared at him, crossing her arms across her breasts.

“What?” He had to shout to be heard.

“Who was she?” Ricki’s voice was shrill enough to carry over the music without trouble.

He frowned.

“Who?”

Ricki leaned across the table and stabbed a finger at him angrily.

“The fucking bitch you kissed down there. Who’d you think?”

Yeah, hoping she hadn’t seen that, had obviously been too much to ask for.

“Ricki, I didn’t kiss that girl, she kissed me. If you saw the kiss, then you saw me pushing her away as well.” He held back a sigh. “Please, can’t we just have fun for a change without you going off on one of your jealous rages?”

“Jealous rage? You kissed a girl right in front of me and you want me to just suck it up?” He sighed and enunciated his words carefully, as if talking to someone hard of hearing.

“I Didn’t Kiss Her. Why the hell don’t you trust me?” He paused, saw her draw breath for whatever she was planning to scream at him. “You know what? I don’t want to do this anymore. We are done.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Her mouth fell open for half a second, then she was back in the game. “No way, you jerk, you don’t get to break up with me. I break up with you.” He turned his head away, didn’t want to watch her drama.

“Fuck you Jon!” She blasted past him, drenching him in her gin and tonic.

Perhaps he should feel sad, or mad that it was over, he thought while his hair dripped gin and tonic onto his shirt, but honestly, mostly it felt like a boulder rolled off his shoulders.

 

Ellen’s ears buzzed from the lack of blasting music, though the bathrooms offered its own cacaphony of voices and laughter. She was leaning heavily against the wall, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. God if they didn’t get a move on she would pee in her pants, and soon! She squeezed her thighs together and Pippa giggled behind her.

“You look like a four year old when you fiddle about like that.”

A lock clicked and a girl with lipstick on her teeth tottered out of the middle stall.

“Finally!”  Ellen pushed off the wall, only to be slammed backwards again, when someone shouldered past her. She caught a glimpse of a girl with black hair glowering at her, before the door thudded shut. She slid down the wall with alarming inevitability, her brain having a hard time keeping up.

“What the…?”

“Stupid cow.” Pippa shouted at the closed door, then leaned down over Ellen. “You alright?” She offered a hand and helped her up.

“Yeah. Did she take my bag?”

“No, she just tore it off your shoulder, it landed on the floor.” Pippa kept a hand on Ellen and bent down to pick it up.

 

Jon was on the way down the stairs, on his way home, when Ricki half ran past him, coming from the bathrooms. She waas grinning a nasty grin, he knew all to well.  Ricki’s up to no fucking good grin. Frowning he watched her progress through a crowd of people forming a loose ring around a dude with glo-sticks stacked up around his arms. Ricki leaned close to him, while he made a fast exchange with a spiky haired girl. A small zip lock bag for a couple of bills.

His hand half way into a pocket, the guy tensed and looked up, first to Ricki, then down himself. He jabbed a hand into another pocket and rummaged about for a few seconds. When he turned toward Ricki, he looked angry, and she smiled at him, pointed to something in the crowd.

Jon followed the line her arm made and saw the girl that had kissed him, making her way back toward the dance floor. When he looked back at Ricki, the drug dealer was crashing his way through his ring of customers and into the crowds on the dance floor. Jon jumped down the steps and grabbed Ricki’s arm when he reached her.

“What did you do, Ricki?” She spun on her heel, barring her teeth at him.

“I gave the bitch a little of what she deserves. Bye Jon.” She pulled out of his grip and started for the exit.

“Ricki, god dammit!” She just made a wild motion with her hand, flinging tiny things into the air. Tiny zip lock bags.

Jon turned and watched the glo-stick guy reach the girl. Without a word he grabbed her by the shoulder, pulled her around and punched her in the face, wild eyed and shouting.

“Fuck.” Jon flung himself into the mass of people, tried to spot a bouncer he could alert.

 

“Ow.” Ellen held the ice pack to her chin and moaned.

“Fuck, I am really sorry.” The dark haired guy crouched down in front of her, repeating his apology for the tenth time.

Ellen tried to laugh, but whenever she opened her mouth hot stabs of pain flickered up her jaw and into her skull.

She wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t worry about it, but instead she just shook her head and shrugged. It was her own fault, Pippa was right, you shouldn’t go round kissing strangers.

For a few seconds he just looked at her, perhaps trying to evaluate her gestures, but then he grinned and held out his hand. When she held out hers he squeezed it, his hand warm and soft, and big.

“I’m Jon.”

“Ellen.” A new sort of wooziness buzzed in her head, making her a little giddy.

“How about I treat you to a bag of frozen pea’s? Maybe a raw steak for that eye?”

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