His sunglasses reflected the passing buildings, the lights of the nightlife as he was driven towards the club. Doflamingo had fancied a drink a little bit of socializing, even though, at best, he found people strange. Or he used to find them so. So easily angered by the most trivial things, yet blind to major matters, like being completely and utterly wasting their lives.
He found them entertaining at best, tediously predictable with annoying frequency. So many that tried and tried and failed because they just did not try hard enough. Just did not want it hard enough. He saw all these men, now, as he walked into the pub, posing, going broke trying to look rich, trying to take some cute little girl with them. Then the slick Wall Streeters that made of it all a pissing contest, because all had a value and they talked money.
It brought a smug smile to Doflamingo’s lips as he walked into the pub. He could imagine their conversations, could overhear them as he walked past, over and over again, the same shit everywhere. Like they were just following a fucking script. He looked at Vergo, nearby, and gave him a smirk. Were they ever that plain and boring? He could bet his right hand that they had never, and he would not certainly lose it.
That was how it usually began, with people watching until he got himself a drink and had downed a good part of it, the sweet aftertaste after feeling the burning down his throat. His men were around, they always were, as if he needed any protection, but he really needed none.
After all, what could happen to him in a pub on a random night?
And just as he was thinking that some fucking insect poured beer on his designer’s shirt and his six grand worth Hermès shoes.
Doflamingo’s lips curled in anger, but he reacted a tenfold faster than his bodyguard, grabbing that fucker by the neck of his shirt and slamming him roughly against the wall behind.
— ❝ Watch where the fuck you are going.
or next time you’ll be drinking beer out of a fucking straw—❞
He seethed, his eyes bright with anger. Vergo then grabbed the man, kicking it out of sight and making sure the bouncers threw him out. The waitressess came to help, with towels to dry him off. Doflamingo sighed, exasperated.
When Vergo came back, he had some information about that guy.
Information Doflamingo would be soon putting to a good use.
That poor excuse of a human being was going to regret that night for a long,
l o n g time.
It could have been something in the air, in the slightest intake of breath after Bartolomeo spoke because once he had, a tremor appeared along his fingers that typically followed a fight. It spoke to that little voice in the back of his head, the one that often got him into trouble.
His first instinct was to grab hold of the hand that grabbed onto him, features darkening into an outright grimace meant to goad. The situation escalated quickly but a brawl was singing in his veins. Win or lose, there was something about getting pushed around that really intrigued Bartolomeo into motion. It involved the pull-pull of patience, or lack thereof, and clearly this guy didn’t have it either.
The edge that tipped towards fight all but compelled Bartolomeo forward in the man’s grip, but the sudden appearance of another man followed by the bouncers all but dragging him out sobered him. It was absolute bullshit.
There was no way to get another word in and the bartender was less than impressed. Staring down the bouncers at the door, the sting of betrayal slouched his shoulders when he began to drag his feet in the direction of his temporary apartment. His sneer was all but permanent while he shoved thoughts of that annoyingly tall blond from his mind.
“Who the fuck does he think he is? Asshole.”
The night was spectacularly awful, just about ruined, but he hoped that would have been the end of it.
Word got out eventually that Bartolomeo’s route that night was slow so they had to choose different blocks to sell, figuring it was the authorities who had caught onto their latest schemes. That seemed fine; Bartolomeo wasn’t one to linger and he was easygoing enough when people weren’t assholes.
The next few weeks seemingly passed without incident, although he noticed Luka, capo of his unit, signing him up for more clean up jobs. Licking his wounds while he wasn’t running was nothing new. Bartolomeo sometimes preferred that role as opposed to Runner, but one didn’t move up ranks that way and everyone knew that. If anything, it seemed like Luka was demoting him without having to directly say it.
On any other occasion, he would have brought it up - casually - about what was going on, but what with the Autumnal Gala coming up around the corner which had one of the most exclusive lists of Families attending, Bartolomeo held his tongue. It might have just been in his head, looking where he didn’t need to look.
“Don’t be fuckin’ paranoid,” Luka had sniffed and waved off the rest of the conversation. “Listen, I like ya, kid, but you’re helping t’cover for Otto while he’s recovering from his broken arm, alright? I already talked to Don about it.”
And that had been the end of that.
At least, it should have been the end of that, except when the Gala finally came around and, after having to convince Luka that he was suited to attend (why wasn’t he suited in the first place? What was this bullshit he kept smelling?), Bartolomeo learned that Otto was not only attending as well but was also not nursing a broken arm at all and, in fact, seemed to have all of his limbs intact and unbroken.
He kept his temper in check. It would not look good for Don Lofaso while they were out in public, even if it looked obvious to Bartolomeo that Luka was outright screwing him over.
Galas were mean for networking and gossip, at least for the bosses, underbosses, and occasional captain, but Bartolomeo wasn’t one to let an opportunity by when one presented itself. So when a server passed by with a tray of drinks, he didn’t hesitate to snatch one up and fall into idle chit chat with others in his unit. It wasn’t often he could attend this kind of event and so he planned to keep both ears and eyes open for anything gossipy, the biggest news so far revolving around the rumors of a newly improved SMILE along with emerging Families seeking alliance.
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