The night air was warm and stale, just the way it should be in any good city.

For Sidon, what should have been a fun evening had turned extremely sour early on. Having a boyfriend break up with you via text was one thing. It's was an entirely different monster when they do it on your birthday, especially when your social circles mixed as heavily as theirs' did.

A quick text to the group chat, curt and to the point, killed any plans that had been laid, shutting off the phone once he had sent it. No way in hell was he going to listen to his phone go off all night with that bullcrap.

Mad and hurt though he was, he knew better then to turn off the secondary phone he kept on his person. Being the son of a mob boss, a notoriously strong one at that, meant that he always needed to have a way to be reached. The number was only known to a few and had only ever rung once. For as much as he wanted to be left completely alone, that was never going to be an option for him, not really.

Gritting his teeth at the thought, he pulled himself from where he sat in his living room and left with a sharp snap of the front door closing and the heavy thunk of the deadbolt being turned too quickly.

It was still his birthday, dammit. He was going to have some fun if it killed him.

The evening flew by him as, drink after drink, bar after bar, he slowly let himself forget that he'd just been dumped. He was careful to only go to bars he wasn't well known at, where he could announce that it was his birthday and only a smattering of drunken applause accompanied it.

This was what he needed. This is what he wanted. To be unknown, to just be another drunk bastard at a bar.

It's with this thought in mind, this one task at hand, that he finds himself on the very edges of his father's turf. Another block or so farther and he would be breaking the one thing that kept them out of another full fledge war. Like a gold cap on a rotting tooth, it covered up the problem, but had every opportunity to fall of hit the wrong way.

He closes his eyes and sighs. The world wasn't spinning behind his closed lids yet, so he'd be plenty fine for another round. Or two, it would depend on how heavy the pours were at the next bar.

Pulling his personal phone from his pocket, he quickly turns it on, plugging in his password as he is prompted to. He'd be better off ordering a cab to get him back up the way he'd come and he could do this all over again if he so chose.

Immediately his phone receives an incoming call, the nickname of his newly made ex flashing across the screen as the device buzzed in his hand. A frown crawls onto his face at the sight and he is quick to pointedly press the ignore button. An onslaught of texts await him, most of them from the group chat complaining about him backing out and screaming at his ex for ruining the night. The other half are from the same person, ten of which are just the words 'CALL ME' written over and over again.

He skims the messages, promptly ignoring two more incoming calls as they appear, and his blood boils at what they say

'It's not you it's me'

'Pls i only sucked his dick ONCE!'

'i diditnt mesan to ghurt u im sop sorrtyytggt'

'pls dontt do theis t o uss'

'u kno what no FUCKCK YOU SIDON II NEEVER SHOULD HAVE FIVEN-'

Its at that final text that he simply turns his phone off and, with a ferociousness he'd been trying to stifle all night, throws it hard against the side of a dumpster, a satisfying crunch letting him know it's broken thoroughly.

He grits his teeth as he runs his hands through his hair, pulling it from the now messy ponytail. He runs his fingernails over his scalp, perhaps a little harder than necessary, pacing around the small car park he found himself in. His anger had already left him, leaving him feeling more hollow and cold than before. Typical.

The moment things got heavy, the moment things got tough, his vision went as red as his hair. This was the reason so many people whispered their concerns to his father. Dorephan was aging, his hair now more gray than black. He wasn't immortal and, eventually, the Oras family would need a new leader.

By blood, Sidon was the only person this future responsibility would fall to, the day his father died. If he couldn't even control his temper over a few poorly worded texts, couldn't so much as make a personal relationship last longer than six months, how the hell was he supposed to run a crime syndicate?!

He took another deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes, pulling his hair into a high but lose bun, trying to cool his neck down.

It was his birthday, dammit. His twenty-fourth birthday. This wasn't how he'd wanted to spend it. Not at all-

The thought is cut short as something, or really someone, barrels into him.

His nerves, already frayed, all but became raw as he he hit the ground with a hard THUNK, the person who'd run into him landing just as hard right beside him. A growl of frustration rumbles in his chest as he sits up, eyes snapping open as he turns to yell.

"Can you not see? What the hell-"

He stops himself as he takes in the crumpled mess of a person next to him. He was smaller, so much smaller, than Sidon, but he looked like he'd taken more of a beating then Sidon ever had.

Blond hair half pulled from his low ponytail and darkened in spots with what Sidon could gather was blood, the man's face was battered, his left eye swollen shut and colored purply black. Blood had made a now dried path down his face from his nostrils, a coagulated drop still clinging to his chin. The stranger looked up at him with his one good eye and, this could be the alcohol talking, Sidon was certain he had never seen a more true blue color before.

Before he can say anything else, begin trying to apologize for his yelling, the other tosses his attention behind his shoulder, where a series of whoops and yells could be heard. It's when he scrambles, tries to stand up, that Sidon can tell something is wrong with his leg as he lets out a yelp of pain and topples to the ground again.

"Hey man, don't try to move, you're hurt real ba-"

"Hey Link, where'd you go little buddy?!" The voice erupts from the nearby alley, just as a group of three other men all but burst from it.

Sidon was really, really getting sick of this shit. He pulls himself back to his feet, just as the group catches sight of them. He can hear the smaller man, named Link by the sound of it, attempt another scramble to his feet as the group calls after him. Another hiss of pain tells him he's back on the ground a moment later

"Hey there, little Linky. Did you really think-"

The biggest of them, the leader if Sidon was to guess, stopped cold as his eyes fixated on Sidon. The other two paused, following the biggest one's line of sight, freezing too once they got a good look at him.

Sidon looked the three of them over, cocking an eyebrow as best as his tipsy self could. He was bigger than all of them but, god, trying to take on three people alone was tough, even in the best of conditions. Still, he wasn't one to let someone face an unfair fight alone.

"You boys looking for trouble?" He said, placing himself between Link and the three thugs with a few clean strides.

"N-nah, not at all. J-just passing through, you know? Just joshing around, right guys?" The other two were nodding before he had even finished.

"By the looks of my friend here," Sidon tilts his head back towards Link, "I'm kind of inclined to think you're lying to me."

"Nah Sidon, it's no big thin-" it was the smaller of the three who had spoken, cut off suddenly by a swift elbow to the sternum, a little oof sound escaping him.

Sidon couldn't help the look of confusion that crossed over his features. He studied their faces closely now, their outfits, their body language. He was tipsy, but he wasn't dumb. Nothing about them stood out; not their plain jeans, plain faces, plain cut hair. They were cookie cutter goonies, made to blend into the background and disappear without a trace. It sobered Sidon up quickly and a part of him was glad he had kept his private phone on hand.

"Why do you know my name?"

"It's nothing, just give us the guy you're in front of an-"

"I asked, why do you know my name?!"

Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Maybe it was the slight slur of his speech. Maybe it was because he was son to Dorephan Oras.

Whatever the reason, the three thugs turned tail and ran into the night without another word or look behind their shoulders. Once they were well gone, Sidon turned on his heel, looking Link in the eye.

"So," he began, his voice now gentle, "mind telling me what's going on?"

Link looked at him, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at his hurt ankle. The were a lot of things Sidon saw in those eyes: fear, pain, but most of all, man anger that he could relate to.

He didn't realize it then, but a small part of him had already fallen for the man with those true blue eyes.