Not Bailey’s brightest idea and he learned that quickly and by quickly it was a literal second because it only took that long for the thug three, on his left, to throw the first punch. Bailey stumbled to his right when the fist made contact with his face. It certainly was tougher than he expected and so he stumbled a bit, world spinning as his feet splashed in the water of the street.

However, Bailey had been in a fistfight before and quickly brought his arms up in defense when he saw thug one coming his way. He felt his fists against his arms but Bailey didn’t drop in his defense when he brought his knee up straight between thug one’s legs.  Hey, it was three to one, he sure as hell was going for cheap shots.

While shocked, Bailey took the time to slam his fist against thug one’s face, sending him straight to his ass with a loud groan. Two left but Bailey was kind of focused on thug one so he didn’t see the second one coming from behind to wrap his arm around Bailey’s neck. The air was immediately knocked out of him since thug two had no mercy squeezing with all his strength.

Bailey flailed his legs about while he clawed at the arm around his neck. There was a moment of panic before Bailey finally elbowed thug two as hard as he could in the gut. He let out a grunt, his arm loosened and, quickly, Bailey flung it off him while running for the main street. If there was one guy, maybe even two, he probably would have made it. However, three on one was bound to end badly and Bailey found himself face planting into the sidewalk when he was tackled from behind.

There were a few more minutes of struggle with Bailey throwing kicks and punches, either successfully landing them or missing entirely before everything became futile. Thug two and three had Bailey pinned against the wall of the alley while thug one unleashed his anger with his fists. Bailey wasn’t even sure how many times he was punched in the face or the gut. He just knew it was long enough for his world to start spinning. He felt blood trickling down his nose and could taste metallic.

Bailey wondered how the hell he was going to get out of this mess, or rather, how beaten up he would be by the end of said mess.

Thug one finally stopped his brutal attack upon realizing that their little boxing match was being watched. He scratched beneath his nose again then took a step back to get a better viewer of the witness. They were hard to see, standing just outside the streetlamp to appear as nothing more than a shadow. For a moment, it seemed they would leave so the attack was put on hold while they waited for the passerby to fuck off but, after a minute or so of no movement, it was clear they weren’t going anywhere.

Bailey got curious and tilted his head forward enough to barely make out a figure standing at the very edge of the alley. Whoever they were had clearly seen at least part of the fight. They weren’t moving to help or leave, which seemed to bother the thugs who were beginning to get angsty.

With a grunt, thug one threw his head to the side in annoyance before shouting, “The fuck you lookin’ at?”

Bailey never thought the day would come that he would actually enjoy hearing the monotone voice that replied, “Some dumbasses trying to prove their masculinity.”

Taking a few steps forward, now standing at the edge of the alley beneath the flickering light of the street lamp, was Zane with a box of beer in his left hand. He had his hood up, shielding his face from the rain that had calmed down to a light drizzle.

Sadly, Zane had heard the fight in the alleyway, saw a piece of it too and though his mind screamed, walk back to your car and pretend you didn’t see it. Look, your car is right across the street. Just go! He went against those thoughts after hearing Bailey’s obviously pained groans.

Zane knew he was an asshole but he wasn’t that much of an asshole. He knew his conscious would eat away at him if he didn’t at least try to help and that was why he found himself being glared at by 3 angry men with a lot to prove. Though Zane knew it would be easy to fight them off; he still didn’t want to and wished to avoid getting serious. If that meant getting himself a bruise or two then so be it.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Thug one bellowed, his attention completely off Bailey, who was dropped by the other attackers that were now solely focused on the one who dared to talk smack to them.

Bailey’s legs didn’t expect the sudden weight so he fell to the ground with a grunt. His glasses clattered against the ground, not that they were much help since they were covered in dirt and sweat. The world was coming back to him bit by bit but he felt woozy. His stomach was churning and he was pretty sure any minute he was going to vomit. While he waited for the eventual upchuck, he watched the brutes start to advance on Zane, who didn’t look at all worried.

“Three on one is pretty pathetic but, I suppose, that’s about the only way any of you could win in a fight.”

“Provoking them won’t help,” Bailey called out hoarsely, reaching for his classes so he could see once more. The closer the thug got to Zane, the more Bailey panicked. The guy wasn’t exactly buff or looked the type to get into a fistfight so all Bailey could imagine was him getting his ass kicked.

Bailey in no way liked Zane after their many brief encounters but that didn’t mean he wanted him to get hurt. He wasn’t up to help either, having already gotten himself beaten up. His legs were still shaking so he had to use the wall of the alley as support to get back on his feet.

However, Zane ignored Bailey, which shouldn’t be that surprising. Instead, he sat his box of beer down, expecting a fight and raised his hand, flicking his fingers as he did in order to provoke the assholes even more. It worked.