Since he's irrelevant
There wasn’t anyone on earth who respected their friends more than Miles Gonzalo Morales.
Bro code? Please, he had that shit all memorized. He was the picture of the perfect friend.
Therefore, he’d be the last one you’d expect to break the bro code, right? Especially the most common of them all.
So why was he here at the corner of a party, locking lips with his best friend’s girl? His hand eagerly cradled her soft face, his lips molding against hers. The girl in question was surprised, but that didn’t stop Miles.
He was waiting for his cue, and as he placed one last soft kiss on her lips, that cue came, hot and ready.
"Miles Gonzalo Morales!"
The whole party quieted down at the angry tone, and Miles had to bite his bottom lips to stop himself from laughing. Damn, did the Nigga really have to use his full government name? Was he that pissed? The thought alone made Miles smile, while bluntly ignoring the fact that he was kissing someone else’s girl. So of course they would be mad.
Seeing the smile on his face The girl whose lips he was just assaulting scrutinized his face. Trying to understand what the fuck was happening. He mouthed, Trust me, to her. Just before his shoulder was grabbed from behind, yanking him forward, his friend’s strength wasn’t enough to spin Miles around.
He knew that, and Miles knew that, hence the smirk on Miles' face as his hand protectively shielded the girl in his arms from the cameras that were pulled out, burned his so-called best friend. whose head was ablaze.
"Fuck is you doing man?!" He barged forcefully into Miles' chest while yelling, his rage forcing his words out. His anger was surpassed only by his embarrassment when he noticed that Miles didn’t budge even slightly. Miles was stronger than him in every aspect, and he teasingly raised an eyebrow at his best friend.
Well, call him John, since he's irrelevant.
"You fucking my girl now?" John inquired, and at that moment even the gods were powerless to halt Miles' laughter. The girl in his arms looked at him, frightened.
"Your girl?" He inquired. "So that b—" To stop himself from saying the word, Miles bit his lips. Then he rephrased what he meant. "Who's that young lady at your hand?" His voice was full of sarcasm; perhaps it would've been better if he had called her the B word instead.
At that, all eyes and phones swiftly turned to John, and he flinched, looking around. The attention he was presently receiving was not what he desired. Whispers begin to run around, making him feel uneasy.
Miles’ gaze softened, feeling the tight grip that was on the back of his hoodie loosen. The girl in his arms was now staring at her boyfriend, stunned.
The bewilderment on her face disappeared when the man in question abruptly switched his attention to her, as if she were a natural-born actress. Disgusted had replaced it. Now she looked like she was watching the most boring soap opera.
He was surprised by that, yet he still had the audacity to open his mouth. So he did.
“Really, Margo?" He questioned her, shaking his head in astonishment, his arm still wrapped around the waist of the girl beside him. How ironic.
The disgust on Margo’s face transformed into wrath as her name fell from John’s lips. Her tentative hold on Miles hoodie dropped. His brows lowered as he wondered why. He had a bad feeling. But he did not question the sudden loneliness he felt at the departure of Margo’s hand from his back.
"You gonna be hoeing like that—-" Everyone who was filming the scene's phone dropped from their hand as they watched John's body fly across the goddamn room as he fell onto a table, breaking it. The girl who had been clinging to his arms like a decoration began to shake the moment her eyes met Margo's. She dashed toward John, her tail tucked between her thighs.
"Keep my name out of your fucking mouth!" Margo warned, pointing at John’s knockout body.
*Get the reference. Hehehe*
Her voice was as strong as ever, and as the crowd began clapping for her, they were all drunk. They didn't care who was in the wrong, but who had the last words. But Miles, he was sober; and he could sense the pain beneath her voice. So when Margo turned on her heels, leaving this godforsaken party, Miles was quick to follow.
It was cold. Fuck that, it was snowing, and Margo's outfit was certainly not snow-appropriate, so he hurried after her, hoping she wouldn’t catch a cold before he reached her.
Catching a glimpse of her, Miles smiled. "Margo—"
"Fuck is you following me for?!" She swung around to face him. Her face filled with anger and Right then, her voice could’ve defied a thunderclap. Miles lowered the hand he had raised while calling out her name.
"Damn, Chile, Why you so pissed—?"
—