Dying? The man pushed the girl away and pulled out a massive knife. “I don’t like you SIR! I don’t like your posh accent SIR! I don’t like you... fucking face SIR!” Ling just smiled, he’d worked his way up and had been lucky and skilled in equal measure; this idiot was assuming he was a posh twat who bought his way in because he had a smoother accent. Ling’s smile infuriated the drunk who launched across the room with a swing up which, if it had connected, would have disembowelled him or finished. He motioned to his friends and they walked over to his house. Each guy couldn't take their eyes off her. Candy felt so special. All of this attention was making her blush. Ryan was staring at her with lust in his eyes. "Don't you wanna come upstairs with me" he said to Candy, "I'll show you what us cool kids do at parties. U want to be cool, don't you?" Y-yes" Candy stammered. This was her chance to be one of them. He held her hands and led her to his bedroom. "I've always liked you" he said,. More

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