Wrong-An Ethan Morales FanFiction

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐

Bring the 707 out
—The Weeknd

𝓔𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷

Eɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴏғ ʟɪғᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ. I ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ be brought to me but the only attention I wanted on me today was Isabel's. And my mom's. And my friends'.
Today was a saturday, and as much as I wanted to throw a whole party with the whole school being here to commemorate these eighteen years of mine, I wanted it to be between me, Isabel, my friends, and mom. It was a fucking birthday party, man. Birthdays are sacred.
So yesterday, after class, I took Isabel home with me and let her sleep over. She met my mom.
Good news, mom loves her and Isabel loves mom. And no, no bad news.
Isabel cooked a tres leches cake with my mom for today, which is my favorite. No one could beat my mom's, but when the gods of food decided to smile down at me for I don't know how many times by now and agreed to let Isabel take a part in the baking of my favorite cake, their smiles must have been wide.
Because when I took a first bite to taste the goddamn pastry, I almost passed out on the spot from how good it was.
Of course Isabel knew how to cook, she raised herself. And she was Mexican, so culture might be guilty in this part. And her past too.
She might have been taken away from her grandmother, but her body kept the memories she so deeply couldn't remember.
Unfortunately, she remembered every single reason to why she had those scars.
"Happy birthday!" Isabel's loud squeal of cheer ripping through my ears as she jumped on the bed next to me and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tight against her. If this had been any other person, I would have already kicked them off, but this was Isabel.
So I wrapped my arms around her and returned the tight hug.
"What hour is it?" I asked, noticing it was dark in the room.
I took Xanax ever since I was a kid because of my insomnia and shit, but sometimes these pills took me out for hours and hours.
"It's 6PM, silly. I tried to wake you up for hours, I was starting to get worried." She chuckled, running a hand through my hair.
"Just because it's my birthday? Sad, I thought you would—Ow, what was that for?" I winced, gripping my shoulder after she punched it.
"I'm always worried when you don't wake up, asshole. Those pills are fucking killers." She said, letting out a small sigh when I wrapped both my hands on the small of her back and brought her closer to me, her hands placing themselves on my bare chest.
"But you don't need to worry about me. I'm not thinking about taking any types of pills right now. You and mom are the reason I'm here with a smile on my face." I muttered, kissing her hair and forehead before pulling away and looking into her eyes.
"The plan for your birthday... You'll see later." She chuckled, trying to get away from me but I pressed her tightly against me once more.
"If it's birthday sex, give it to me now. My mom is downstairs but I'll muffle your moans with whatever you wa—"
"Calm down, little psycho. No, it's not, birthday sex. It's something...A little different."
I scrunched my nose in confusion, frowning at the same time.
But in the blink of an eye, I was walking inside a type of night club with my friends and Isabel. She had convinced mom that we were going to take a fresh intake of air, but with the clothes she was wearing, I was the one needing the fresh air right now.
Dark red dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. Hair down and free and her feet tucked into white sneakers. She looked absolutely amazing, while I was just wearing my usual. And personal favorite.
Baggy jeans. Black Vans. White wife-beater. Flannel jacket. Messy hair.
My friends wore their usual, too, so technically Isabel was the only one that was properly dressed for a nightclub. Even though she did look like she loved how usual my type of clothing is.
We walk further inside the club, until we're under a stream of purple and red lights, surrounded by rounds and rounds of people. One bar with a girl dressed in a skirt the size of my hand and fishnet leggings, breasts only covered with a sparkly bra while she served a few—no doubt—horny men ogling at the young woman's body.
If it was six months ago before I ever knew the existance of Isabel Belmonte, I would have hooked up with the bartender. But the only thing in my mind was what I would do to basically my girlfriend if she was the one with that outfit.
Looking further around, my eyes widened.
Glass Table fucking Girls. Did my girl literally just bring me to a strip club?
Well, Shrimp and the guys seemed to love it, but whatever kink this was for Isabel I was getting scared.
"Isabel, why are we here?" I asked through the loud music, and she looked back at me with a smile on her lips. A chuckle slipped through them.
God, please no.
"Calm down, this isn't supposed to be weird or something, I thought it would be fun!" She said, taking a small step closer and fidgeting with the collar of my jacket.
I pocketed my hands.
"Fun? You think it's fun watching girls dance on glass tables?" I questioned in return, my brows furrowing further.
"Look, you're going to be stuck with me for a long fucking while. And it's your birthday today, so take the chance." She sighed, her tense shoulders finally relawing when my hands finally wrapped around her waist.
It was actually the opposite. She was the one who was going to be stuck with me for a hell of a long time. And about this being my birthday, it just made no sense to me.
But this was for her, right? She wanted me here, and clubs like these are really expensive.
So I sighed and nodded, right before she gave me a quick kiss and pulled back, taking my hand and leading me towards the crowd.
I stood behind her, hands on her hips while everyone watched the girls dance. Some other people were drinking, or just really moving their bodies to the rhythm of the music.
"Hey, love birds, you want some of this shit?" Shrimp leaned in onto us, two strands of cocaïne on a piece of carboard. Between his fingers, a rolled piece of paper.
I wanted to say no. I need to say no.
"Love to!" Isabel answered before me, a wide smile on her lips when Shrimp placed the carboard right in front of her nose and gave her the roll of paper, which she placed in front of one of her nostrils and covered the other one with her finger, injesting the white powder through her nose.
Fuck, if she was getting stoned, then she couldn't do it alone. She could walk away and someone could grope her at any time and take her from me. That could not happen.
So without another thought, I took the roll of paper from her fingers and set it between mine, covering my other nostril and sniffing the strand in a blur, before finally pulling away and looking at the girl in front of me, eyes wide with excitement.
Shrimp and the guys laughed and walked away again, leaving me alone with Isabel and the crowd around us.
The shit they gave us hit me like a train, and so did Isabel apparently. Although there was loud music and people talking around us, the only sound my brain focused on was the sound of her soft breaths.
How her chest heaved and how she rested the back of her head against my chest, her body pressed against mine and her mouth open from how harsh her breaths were. It must be the first time she ever did this.
Now I was afraid her body would give out and she would drop on the floor. Passed out. That was what happened to me the first time I ever tried sniffing. And I had the same exact reaction that she is having right now.
Cold sweat from being nervous dripped off my forehead.
"You alright?" I asked through heavy panting, feeling her nod against me. But a nod wasn't enough.
I needed to hear words. I needed to hear her talk them. To see her tongue roll while words came out of her mouth. Or else I was going to go into cardiac arrest if I saw her fall from my arms even though I'm holding her pretty tightly to me.
"Yeah, I'm just not used to doing that." She sighed. There it was. Her normal tone of voice.
Her body had taken the hit, but her brain was still working. She still sounded the same.
An exhale of relief rolled out of my lungs as we kept slow dancing to the rhythmitic music. My hands were still on her hips from behind, her head still resting against my chest.
My impulse of looking around took over me. Wish I hadn't, because my jaw clenched at the fucking sight.
The same few men that were at the bar earlier ogling at the bartender's body, were now checking out my girlfriend's body. They had those jerk smirks on their faces, some of them replicating sexual gestures with their hands and mouths, and it was towards her. Not me or both of us. They were grown ass men doing that towards a fucking seventeen year old.
If this was anywhere else right now, I would have ripped their fucking teeth out and cut all their fingers off slowly with a butter knife for even doing that. Maybe they would have liked it since they would have been asking for it.
"What were you wearing, ma'am?" The police officer asked mom for the fourth time.
They had asked me questions, too, but my mind was still settled on what I witnessed a few hours ago.
Tears sprung to my eyes, but I closed them so none of them would slide down my face, even though my eyelids burned. What was it with the question of what my mom was wearing? She was a damn victim.
"I just fucking told you, I was wearing what I'm wearing right now. Jeans, and a white T-Shirt." She answered through gritted teeth, tears pouring out of her eyes.
It hurt that I saw what that man did to my mom, but it hurt even more that I had to watch and couldn't do anything about it.
I closed my eyes at the memory, both the memory of that talk and the time I watched my mom crying beneath a man who was touching her without her consent I had once buried and never talked about it come back to the surface, again.
Sometimes, I still had night terrors of it happening again to her. To Isabel. And it kept me awake all night, it fucking terrified me thinking about it.
This memory had been lingering ever since Hernandez told me he would tie Isabel up and let his employees take advantage of her if I didn't get him his money. The thought of it happening had been haunting me ever since.
I wasn't a sensitive person, but certain things triggered me. Especially the man ogling at my girl's body while I fanatasized of cutting off their fingers and tongues. Which I would do in a heartbeat if it meant keeping Isabel safe.
I was about to let loose Isabel and walk over to the group of jerks, but my phone buzzed in my pocket.
My nostrils flared with interest.
My hand reached into my pocket as I looked at the notification, my lips curling up into a smirk of satisfaction.
Terrance: Hey. Next week good? Oh, and I found some info you might not be so happy about.