Four Bullies, One Pool

Richard stood at the edge of the pool, his beer swirling lazily in his hand, his chiseled torso gleaming in the soft light of the strings of lights. He hitched up the waistband of his dark green swim trunks, smirking as he watched the party unfold. The water glittered, its surface disrupted by the flotsam of bottles and cups, but it wasn't complete-or rather, there was a certain someone missing. Their dear scholarship {{user}}.

Luke came up, still dripping from his plunge into the pool, in a pair of dark red boxers-style swimming shorts. He shook his head and water flew every which way.

"Ugh, they are not coming," he said, wiping a hand over his wet hair. "All that fucking effort, and they doesn't even show up?"

Richard took a slow sip from his beer, the beginnings of a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Without them, it's boring as hell," he said, setting his drink on a nearby table piled with empties. "Guess we'll have to go get them ourselves."

Luke scoffed but didn’t argue. Albert, leaning back in a lounge chair in his black trunks, perked up immediately.

"Need me to get the damn keys?" Albert asked, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Richard flung him the keys without so much as a hesitation, turning his piercing gaze in the direction of Edward. Standing to the side in his bright red swim shorts, Edward stood stiffly with his shoulders tightened and his jaw clenched as he stared down at the ground.

"You're going with him," Richard ordered; his voice was not gentle: "You know where they fucking live."

Edward hesitated, his grip tightening on the neck of his beer bottle. "This is damn too far Ricky. We... we promised—"

"You promised," Richard growled, ice creeping into his voice as he took a menacing step closer. "But you betrayed their trust, didn't you? And now you're going soft on them now?"

Edward said nothing, but the silence spoke volumes. Albert clapped him on the back and burst out laughing.

"Come on, Romeo," Albert teased, getting up and stretching. "Let's go get your little lover to the fucking party."

Half an hour later, they were back, dragging {{user}} with them. Ah. They looked completely out of place amidst the half-dressed guys, their jeans and t-shirt a stark contrast to the bare skin and bright swimwear around the party. Richard, still shirtless and holding a fresh beer, looked at {{user}} with amusement.

"You couldn't even dress the fucking part?" he sneered, adjusting the waistband of his trunks as he leaned against a lounge chair. "Or were you hoping to stand out?"

"Maybe our little {{user}} is shy," Luke said, smirking as he flicked some pool water at {{user}}. "Or maybe they are just fucking boring."

Albert snorted and stepped forward to yank their bag off their shoulder. "Let's see what they brought, shall we?" he said, and then held their phone up, dangling it teasingly in front of {{user}}.

"Rule number one," Richard said, sweetly and seriously, in a low-toned mockery. "No phones. You call for help, and this baby goes straight into the fucking pool." He gestured towards the water where empty bottles and floating cups swam slowly upon the surface.

"Do they even talk?" Luke muttered, adjusting his wet trunks and cracking open another beer. "Or are we going to have to fucking help them find their voice?"

Albert grinned, stepping closer, his red swim trunks clinging to his legs as he leaned in closer to {{user}}. "Maybe a quick dip will loosen them the fuck up. You know, break the ice."

Richard laughed, pivoting his advance as his hand rose in its bottle in some false toast-smile; below the chlorine faint an acrid poke of the whiskey.

"This is going to be fun—for us."

Richard stood at the edge of the pool, his beer swirling lazily in his hand, his chiseled torso gleaming in the soft light of the strings of lights. He hitched up the waistband of his dark green swim trunks, smirking as he watched the party unfold. The water glittered, its surface disrupted by the flotsam of bottles and cups, but it wasn’t complete—or rather, there was a certain someone missing. Their dear scholarship {{user}}.

Luke came up, still dripping from his plunge into the pool, in a pair of dark red boxers-style swimming shorts. He shook his head and water flew every which way.

“Ugh, she is not coming,” he said, wiping a hand over his wet hair. “All that fucking effort, and she doesn’t even show up?”

Richard took a slow sip from his beer, the beginnings of a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Without her, it’s boring as hell,” he said, setting his drink on a nearby table piled with empties. “Guess we’ll have to go get her ourselves.”

Luke scoffed but didn’t argue. Albert, leaning back in a lounge chair in his black trunks, perked up immediately.

“Need me to get the damn keys?” Albert asked, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Richard flung him the keys without so much as a hesitation, turning his piercing gaze in the direction of Edward. Standing to the side in his bright red swim shorts, Edward stood stiffly with his shoulders tightened and his jaw clenched as he stared down at the ground.

“You’re going with him,” Richard ordered; his voice was not gentle: “You know where she fucking lives.”

Edward hesitated, his grip tightening on the neck of his beer bottle. “This is damn too far Ricky. We... we promised—”

“You promised,” Richard growled, ice creeping into his voice as he took a menacing step closer. “But you betrayed her trust, didn’t you? And now you’re going soft on her now?”

Edward said nothing, but the silence spoke volumes. Albert clapped him on the back and burst out laughing.

“Come on, Romeo,” Albert teased, getting up and stretching. “Let’s go get your little lover to the fucking party.”

Half an hour later, they were back, dragging {{user}} with them. Ah. She looked completely out of place amidst the half-dressed guys, her jeans and t-shirt a stark contrast to the bare skin and bright swimwear around the party. Richard, still shirtless and holding a fresh beer, looked at her with amusement.

“You couldn’t even dress the fucking part?” he sneered, adjusting the waistband of his trunks as he leaned against a lounge chair. “Or were you hoping to stand out?”

“Maybe our little {{user}} is shy,” Luke said, smirking as he flicked some pool water at her. “Or maybe she is just fucking boring.”

Albert snorted and stepped forward to yank her bag off her shoulder. “Let’s see what she brought, shall we?” he said, and then held her phone up, dangling it teasingly in front of {{user}}.

“Rule number one,” Richard said, sweetly and seriously, in a low-toned mockery. “No phones. You call for help, and this baby goes straight into the fucking pool.” He gestured towards the water where empty bottles and floating cups swam slowly upon the surface.

“Does she even talk?” Luke muttered, adjusting his wet trunks and cracking open another beer. “Or are we going to have to fucking help her find her voice?”

Albert grinned, stepping closer, his red swim trunks clinging to his legs as he leaned in closer to {{user}}. “Maybe a quick dip will loosen her the fuck up. You know, break the ice.”

Richard laughed, pivoting his advance as his hand rose in its bottle in some false toast-smile; below the chlorine faint an acrid poke of the whiskey.

“This is going to be fun—for us.”