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The whole pub's quiet, dead quiet, likes, even though it's still real full, jist every cat's sortay made space in the middle ay the room. Franco's thair in that space, spinnin aroond, jist begging fir some cat tae challenge him. Me n Sick Boy are ower tae the side, real oot the wey, likesay, but closer than the rest. We dinnae want tae mess wi Begbie whin he's like this, ken. He is one bad feline…
Ah'm sortay crouched doon, n Sick Boy's goat one hand oan ma shoulder n the other oan ma wrist. Ah'm bleedin from ma paw bad likes, and he's tryin tae help me stoap it, but it's no the kind ay bleedin ye kin jist stoap. Franco's claws're sharp, ken, n they cut deep.
Rents is still sat at the table, like he doesnae ken whit's happening behind his back. Ah'd probably act the same though, if ah could. But Franco wilnae huv it, likesay. He's no moving nae mair, his back turned tae Rents as he starts talkin.
— Hey, Rent Boy, he sais. You bring me doon a fuckin smoke.
— Ah think we'd better go, Franco, Sick Boy chimes in, and ah'm quick tae follow his lead. Ah'm a wee bit less feart ay Franco—especially wi Sick Boy tae back me up—than ah am ay whatever might happen tae ma paw if ah dinnae deal wi it.
— Ah've goatay git tae a hospital!- Ah'm no even close tae finished wi ma sentence, likes, whin Begbie's shoutin ower me.
— Yir no gaun tae any fuckin hospital n yir stayin thair, he yowls, pointin fae me tae Sick Boy. We baith go quiet. No much else tae dae, likesay. It's silent again likes, until Franco continues, finally turning tae look at Rents whin he talks tae him. — You bring me doon a fuckin cigarette.
Ah cannae understand why the cat's so bent oan Mark bringin him a smoke. Ah look ower at Sick Boy, but he seems jist the same as me, pure confused, likes. But that's jist how it is wi the Beggar-boy sometimes, ken? Ye cannae ivir truly figure oot his type. He's a real tiger, no like us house cats. Ah'm worried Rent Boy doesnae git that, cuz he's still sat at the table all quiet like, but finally he stands and turns tae listen, walking doon towards Begbie.
— And the bag, Begbie adds, and Mark pauses, but does whit he's told. Like ah said, no much else ye can dae whin it comes tae this cat. Once he's in front ay Franco, he stoaps again, and he's goat this funny look oan his face. He licks his lips and swallays, his mooth openin a bit n his eyes dartin aw ower Franco's face.
After a second he suddenly reaches real quick fir his smokes, fishin thum ootay his shirt poakit and haudin thum oot tae the Beggar. It's so quiet ah kin hear his breathing, aw shaky n nervous, likes. We were aw nervous. Franco wis pure terrifying like this, man, pure terrifying.
But Franco doesnae move, jist stands there, starin hard at Rent Boy, likes. Ah kin see his eyes movin up n doon, but ah cannae tell whit it's supposed tae mean. But Mark does, ah think. Ah dinnae ken how, but he seems tae ken whit Begbie's aftir, ken?
The pub's lit real low, likes, n ah kin hardly make oot the finer details ay the catboy's face, but ah think ah see his cheeks turning pink. Course he's embarrassed, likesay, especially wi the rest ay the pub lookin at thum. They still haven't cleared oot, jist watchin n waitin, ken? Waitin fir Begbie tae snap oan perr Rents. Ah'm sortay waitin fir the same thing. No cuz ah want it tae happen, likesay, ah don't, but it's Franco, ken. Ah jist expect it.
Ah see Mark swallay again, n then he digs in the pack fir a cigarette, puttin it between his lips. Ah'm pure scoobied now. This cat's goat tae be ootay his heid, ah'm thinkin. Ah look at Sick Boy, whae shrugs. No a clue between us, likes. Rents lights up the cigarette, sucks at it, n takes it ootay his mooth. It's another quiet second where ah jist hear the two of thum breathing, aw shivery n shallow.
And then he hands the cigarette tae Franco, whae grabs it—wi the paw that's goat the knife from earlier, too, it points straight at Rents—and puts it right between his ain lips, sucking in a deep breath same as Mark hud. His is longer though, like he's savorin it. He takes the cigarette fae his mooth n lets his airm drop tae his side, then stands fir a moment, likesay, jist staring at Rents wi his lips parted. Then he forms thum intae a circle n blows the smoke right in the Rent Boy's face. Mark squeezes his eyes shut, flinching fae the cloud.
Ah've nivir seen anything like this, man. The Beggar's goat some radge power trips wi people, likesay, but ah cannae think ay another quite like this. He brings his airm back up and takes another breath ay smoke n ah take the chance tae peek ower at Sick Boy, who's goat a look ay pure shock oan his face, n mibbe something else beneath it, likes. Ah nudge his knee wi ma elbow, ma bleedin paw nearly forgotten now.
But the catboy jist looks doon at me and shakes his heid, and ah dinnae ken whit that means. Does he ken whit aw this is aboot n jist no want tae share? Does he no approve? Does he huv nae idea, like me? No a single thing aboot this is makin any sense.
Rents is still jist standing there man, and his face definitely red now. He's blinking hard n biting his bottom lip n his hands're fists at his sides. But his eyes dinnae leave Franco's, and Franco's dinnae leave his. It's like he's stuck in place, ken? Pure radge, ah think. Usually he's the only one ay us kin really stand up tae the Beggar-boy, likesay, but now he's frozen.
Franco's blowin the smoke oot intay Mark's face same as the first time now. He's only taken two puffs ay the cigarette at this point—the moment seems wey longer than it actually is, ken?—but he drags it fae his mooth n hauds it in front ay him like he's finished.
The Rent Boy's eyes're focused on it, n it's the first time he's looked long at anything but Begbie since the whole thing started. He swallays hard, his mouth hangin open like, n it's sortay like he's sick fir it, ken? He's staring hard n his eyes're wide n he's breathing fast n his gaze follays it as Franco starts tae move it towards him, knife still in hand.
There's a sort ay tiny soond that comes fae Mark's mooth that ah dinnae want tae identify. That's whit starts tae get me thinking. But it's no until Franco's goat the flat part ay his blade dead pressed against Mark's neck n the cigarette hovering ower his collarbones that ah really start tae put it taegithir, ken? Ma mind still tries tae dodge the idea. Ah dinnae want tae think Mark's capable ay this, no cuz it's fir a man, likesay, ken, but cuz that man's Begbie. Ken?
It fully clicks aboot the same time that Begbie presses the burnin cherry tae Mark's skin, crushin the rest ay the cigarette hard against his collarbone. It's barely enough fae me tae hear, n definitely no the rest ay the pub, but Mark makes another one ay those soonds, jist a wee bit looder than the last.
Woah.
Ah clap ma hand ower ma mooth tae keep fae gasping, n Sick Boy elbows me in the side. Ah whip ma heid aroond tae look at him, ma eyes wide. Sick Boy jist grabs ma shoulders, starin me doon like. The message is obvious, likesay, even jist wi that: stay quiet.
Ah'm dead terrified now likes, and ah dart ma heid back tae look at the Beggar-boy, hopin he's no noticed. But the cat's no even lookin in oor direction. He pulls his hand back fae Rents, whae takes a deep, shudderin breath. The crumpled cigarette falls tae the groond, bouncin oaff Rents' shoe as it does. Begbie grabs the bag fae Mark and hauds ower his front, likesay, and ah ken jist why he's goat it in the position he does. Ah feel ma ain cheeks start tae heat at the thoat. Man, it's pure radge, aw this. Ah still cannae believe it.
— Let's fuckin go, Franco growls, walkin fae the door wioot checking if we're follaying. Course we dae, though. What options dae we have? Rents sortay digs his hands intae his poakits—though ah'm tryin no tae look doon thair, fir his sake and mine—kickin the cigarette awey as he follays, his face n ears bright red. He doesnae even look in my n Sick Boy's direction as he does. Ah glance ower at Sick Boy one mair time, n he just shakes his heid again n walks aftir the others.
That leaves yours tru-lay, standin in the center ay the pub wi a dozen or so angry cats wi their hackles up starin me doon. Ah dig aroond quick in mah poakits tae find any bit ay change tae cover the drinks, n slap doon whit ah kin find oan the bar before runnin oot tae catch up wi the others.