Savior

Summary: When Max Martinez gets dragged out to go to a club with her sister, she's put in multiple awkward situations, and finds herself running into a lot more trouble than she thought she would. Thankfully, there's one person who helps her out for the entire night...

Savior

"Literally, just drive me there. That's all you need to do."

Max swiveled her chair around to face her whining sister. "I'm not going to be a chauffeur for you and your stupid friends." Turning back around, she zoned her focus onto her math homework and tried to tune out her whining sister.

"Please, please, please Max?" her sister griped.

Max sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping slightly. She was tired, and she didn't want to deal with her annoying twin. "Shut up, Maya. I have stuff to do."

"Maybe you're so sour because you don't have a boyfriend anymore. Come on, let's just go, it's getting late."

If Max was affected by anything, Maya knew exactly what it was, and she had played that card to her advantage yet again.

"Will you stop whining if I drop you off? I'm coming straight home."

Maya sighed, cocking her hip to the side and smacking her gum. She looked like a total ditz. "I guess so," she said, twirling her blond hair with her finger. "But what if we get too...y'know, and can't drive home? We'll get in a lot of trouble, Max."

"You're so irritating."

Maya took that as approval and said, "Oh my god, Max, thanks! I owe you one! Now get dressed, wear something cute. Do you need to borrow anything?"

Max rolled her dark brown eyes and muttered, "No thanks, I'm not interested in selling my body tonight," under her breath and sent Maya off so she could change.

She slipped into a pair of black skinny jeans and a red v-neck. Looking out the window, she noticed the trees swaying a bit, which clearly meant it was windy. She put on a black leather jacket over her shirt, and to say the least, she looked like a badass.

Maya walked into her room just a few minutes after she had finished getting ready. She scanned Max up and down, her mouth curling. "You look hot and all, but …"

"But what?"

"You look really reserved."

Max glared at her. "I'm not changing," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

Maya scanned her up and down yet again, and Max was getting uncomfortable under her gaze. Maya opened her mouth, and then quickly shut it. After a few moments, she cocked her head to the side and said, "I think I have a pair of shoes that match your outfit. You wouldn't have to change, but you also wouldn't look like a potato."

"Thanks, Maya," Max responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Maya bounced off to her room and came back with a box. "I'm trusting you with these. Don't hurt them."

Max was about to punch someone. "I won't," she huffed. Her eyes were starting to hurt from all of the rolling they were doing.

Maya glanced at the clock on Max's nightstand. "Hurry and get those shoes on, we need to leave!"

Max opened the box and her jaw just about to dropped. She pulled out a slipper that was glossy red and about five inches high. Biting her tongue to prevent from her yelling at Maya, she sucked it up and put them on.

She grimaced the whole time walking down the stairs, but she figured she may as well get used to it.

"You look hot," Maya said, walking down the stairs behind her.

"Uh huh, I know."

:-:-:

"ID please."

Max dug out her wallet from her jacket pocket and flashed the card to the guy. He tipped his chin and let her inside, and went through the same procedure with Maya and her three friends.

Once they were all inside, Max yelled, "I'm gonna be sitting down at the bar. Come get me when you're ready to leave."

Maya and her friends nodded, and giggled, and Max took her leave from them.

Her eyes scanned around the area through the darkness, looking for somewhere she could just sit down. The shoes were killing her, no matter how good she looked in them.

She trudged along to the side of the building, where the bar was. Heaving herself onto a chair, she sighed in relief, easing the tension on her feet.

"What can I get you?"

She turned to look up at a black haired man shaking up a drink for another customer. "Do you by chance just have like...water?"

His lip lifted up into a smirk, and Max's skin started to heat up. "Of course we do," he said.

Before he left to grab her a glass of water, she stopped him and said, "Water isn't by chance like a code name for a drink with alcohol, is it?"

It was Max's first time being exposed to something like this.

The bartender tried to mask his laugh but failed terribly. "No ma'am," he said, a twinkle in his eye. He turned back around and served the drink to a man sitting two seats away from her. Then he grabbed a glass and filled it with bottled water and ice cubes and set it down in front of her.

"Thanks," Max mumbled, not raising her eyes to meet his. She was nervous all of a sudden, her palms sweaty and heartbeat racing.

In other words, he was hot.

She took a giant gulp of her water, the coolness soothing her burning body. Since there was nobody to attend to, the bartender came and stood in front of her, and she felt the air around her practically suffocating her.

She'd already embarrassed herself once in front of this man, and now she was sure she was going to once again.

He leaned over the bar itself, his face incredibly close to Max's. She tried to shift away when he wasn't looking so that it wouldn't give him the wrong message or anything.

"You're entertaining," he said to her just then, as she slowly inched away.

"Um, thanks."

Just then, a man came and sat down by her, sending a glare to the bartender. The bartender took it that he should leave, which he abruptly had done so.

Max was scared. She had no idea who this person sitting next to her was, and on the outside, he wasn't very attractive.

"I'm Roland. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Chills traveled down Max's spine and she shivered. This guy had to be at least in his high-40s, and was probably the sketchiest guy she'd seen in a while.

"What can I get you sir?" the bartender said, butting in before Max could respond.

The irritation with the bartender was evident on Roland's face as he responded, "Get me a whiskey."

So he likes his drinks strong.

Max mentally pleaded for the bartender not to leave. She shot him a look, but he didn't catch it and left to make Roland's drink.

Roland smiled at her and leaned a little closer, their knees almost touching. "What were you saying?"

"Um, I'm, uh, Max."

Roland reached his hand out and was just about to place it on Max's thigh, until the bartender swung by once again. "Here you go, sir. Ma'am, can I get you anything else?"

The old fart next to her said, "I'll buy her a martini." Turning to Max, he said, "That alright, hon?"

She shook her head and tilted up her chin, putting a strong front on the best she could. "I don't want anything."

"I insist."

"Nope."

She heard him mutter a nasty word under his breath before saying, "What would you like then?"

"Nothing."

She hoped this was enough to get rid of him, but it seems that it wasn't.

The bartender picked up her discomfort and said, "Sir, if she doesn't want anything, maybe you shouldn't bother her." Roland looked like he was taken aback. "This isn't any of your business," he growled, and squinted at the name tag the bartender wore, "Fang."

Oh, so that's his name.

"This is awful service," Roland suddenly said. "I would like to speak to your manager."

Fang's lips lifted up into that smirk she saw earlier in the night, and Max's skin began to tingle again. "Lucky for you, you're looking right at him." Max was shocked, to say the least. Looking at Fang, he possibly couldn't be even two years older than she (which was a little over 21 years). How old was this guy?

Roland's reaction was similar to Max's, but he had actually expressed his shock.

"This is awful," Roland said, and then completely ignoring Fang, he turned to Max and said, "How about we get out of here?"

Max's lips curled in disgust. "No thanks."

Roland looked like he was about to punch a wall. He simply stood up and left, and Max sighed out in relief.

She looked at the bartender, who was standing there triumphantly, arms crossed over his chest in victory. Max took this moment to revel in the nice arm muscles he had, before thanking him. "I'm really grateful for the help...Fang?"

He nodded. "Why are you here if you're even going to drink anything?"

"Chauffeur service," Max responded bluntly. She wanted to ask him how old he was, but figured that'd be rude.

Fang nodded understandingly. "You look stunning, though. You rock those casual clothes."

For a while, Max was sure he was being sarcastic, but in the back of her mind, she somehow knew he wasn't trying to be.

Before she could say anything else, she looked up and he was gone. She looked down the aisle and saw him helping out all of the customers, and noticed that he was the only bartender here in the crowded building.

She pulled out her phone from her pocket and checked the time, and then proceeded to choke on her spit and cough violently. It was almost 11 at night and she had a big calculus test the next morning.

Fang looked down the aisle as he was shaking up a drink. A questioning look was on his face as Max shot him a thumbs up, indicating that she was okay. He smiled, and Max looked away so he couldn't see her blush.

:-:-:

"Hey sweetheart."

Max looked up from her phone to see yet another old fart trying to hit on her. Luckily, she picked up tactics from the other women sitting at the bar. "Sorry, I'm waiting for someone."

The man sat down next to her anyways, and rather at a close proximity. "Don't be such a tease," he said creepily.

"What can I get you to drink, sir?"

And there Fang was, ready to save the day. He'd saved her about another two encounters before this one as well.

Sighing heavily, the guy shot a glare at Fang, who smirked. It was almost as if Fang had taken possession over Max, and didn't like others touching his things.

The thought of that weirded Max out a bit, but she felt that Fang was protecting her, and she was grateful.

It made her happy.

Before she knew it, Fang was gone, and the man was still there. She began to inch away from him, but he put his meaty hand on her knee and said, "Come on honey, don't be a tease."

This was considered teasing?

"Here's your drink, sir," Fang said, and the guy retracted his arm quickly, to conceal that he was preying on a young girl.

Fang looked at Max for a second, and then tipped his chin. The anxiety filled in her chest at the thought of him leaving her alone with this man.

Then, he did the unexpected. "Sir, could you move a little to your right? She's with me tonight."

Max was stunned, just as the old guy was. The man opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly. A few moments later, he muttered, "That's not allowed, right?"

"What's not allowed?" Fang challenged.

Max was too stunned to say anything at this moment, so she sat back and listened.

"Having relations with customers," the guy said defiantly, once he found the right words to say.

"Are you stuck in high school?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not a teacher student relationship, man. She just comes to my club, I work here, and we just happened to hit it off."

"This is absurd! Where's your manager?"

"You're looking right at him, bub."

The guy stood up suddenly, his hands clenched in fists. He looked like he was going to punch Fang, but like the other guy, he just huffed and walked, much to Max's relief.

After the whole scene had happened, Max had totally forgotten that Fang had said she was with him.

:-:-:

"Max?"

She turned around to hear a familiar voice yell out her name in surprise. As soon as she recognized who it was, she felt like slamming her head against a wall.

Why was he here?

"What are you doing here? I never took you as the party type."

Max sighed. She wanted to tell him that maybe she was the party type, but they both knew that wasn't true. "I'm here for Maya and her friends."

"Oh."

An awkward silence filled the air between them until Fang swung by. "Oh, hey Dylan," he said.

Max wanted to scream. Not only was she stuck talking to her ex-boyfriend, but her possible-crush decided to talk to him too, with her right in the middle.

"Oh, hey man. What's up?"

Fang shrugged, glancing at Max for a quick moment. "Just serving the people. You want anything?"

Dylan shook his head, and grabbed a seat next to Max. "Nah, I'm good."

Sighing heavily, Max shrugged away. She could smell the alcohol coming off of Dylan, and it reeked. Once Fang took his leave, Dylan took it as an opportunity.

"Listen, Max, you look great tonight."

"I'm literally wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt."

"But you look so hot."

"I think you're drunk."

Dylan sighed, resting his elbow on the table. "I miss you."

"You're the one who broke up with me," she replied bluntly, feeling a solid lump form at the back of her throat.

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. He didn't say anything, and Max took that opportunity to remind him that he had a new girlfriend.

"I want you back," Dylan pleaded.

Fang slammed a glass of water right next to her elbow. "She's with me."

For a moment, Max thought he was being serious, because he'd already said it earlier in the night.

Dylan looked up at Fang, a dangerous look on his face. "What? Max, how do you know this guy?"

"I met him," she replied shortly. She wanted to kick Dylan in the face; he was pissing her off. There was no need for him to be questioning her like this.

Dylan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "He's a dick, Max. Come back to me."

"I think you need to leave," Max said quietly, looking away.

"I love you."

Max's world came crumbling down on her. She stood up, declared she was going to the restroom, and left.

"Dude, get over yourself," she heard Fang say to Dylan as she left.

:-:-:

"It's 2 in the morning, dammit," Max grumbled to a drunk Maya plus three.

Maya giggled. "I'm soooooo sorry Maxie-poo," she slurred.

"I have a calculus test tomorrow, and I'm already failing," Max muttered again.

Max started up the car and sat there for a moment, letting it run. Sighing heavily, she regretted not saying goodbye to Fang. He was busy with another customer, and she couldn't stick around any longer with three drunken girls hanging around her, begging her to go back home.

In about 30 minutes they were back on campus, and Max dragged the three girls to her and Maya's dorm.

That night, Max thought of the great disservice she'd done by not even thanking Fang before she left.

:-:-:

The next morning, Max found herself scrambling around to find her cell phone. About an hour after of throwing everything across the room, it struck her that she left it on the bar itself.

She wanted to scream. Sighing heavily, she checked the watch on her wrist and yelled at Maya, "I'm leaving for class!"

In her gut, she knew the test wasn't going to go well just by the way her day was going. She woke up late, couldn't find her phone, and didn't study at all the night before…

She reached the room and set her things down, slamming her head on the desk and catching her breath for a minute.

"Don't be such a tease, hon," a familiar voice behind her whispered, the cool breath fanning the side of her face.

She shot up and turned around, ready to sock this person in the gut. Once she saw who it was, she immediately relaxed and said, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm in your class, stupid," Fang said, knocking Max's head lightly. He reached in his back pocket and pulled out her phone. "You left this yesterday."

Max felt like she was going to cry. "Thank you so much," she said, looking up at him. She couldn't even comprehend how much he'd actually helped her.

"Listen, Max," Fang said, running a hand through his long, dark hair. "Are you free Saturday night?"

Max's heart almost jumped out of her throat. She began to cough violently, and Fang patted her back lightly.

"I need help at the bar."

This made her cough even more. She thought he was seriously asking her out, but her hopes were let down.

Once she was able to breathe normally, she finally asked, "How old are you, Mr. Manager?" Her eyebrows lifted up, and this was the one thing that had been bothering her for a while.

"I'm 22," he said, grinning. "My dad's actually the owner, but he left in charge of me last night because he's out of town."

Max let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't as creepy as she thought he might've been if he were older.

"So, you free Saturday night?"

She nodded, and the feeling of just being with him made her happy. It didn't even matter if it was a date - it still felt like one to her.

"Alright, because we're going out," Fang said abruptly.

"I'm confused."

"I'm taking you out to dinner."

"You're not working?"

"No, I'm taking you out to dinner."

Max grinned. "Thanks for helping me out."

He looked confused, but it didn't even matter, because he was her savior.

a/n:

hey hey hey

um yeah this happened last night so sorry if it's not up to par

i haven't written in like four years (exaggeration)

but yeah

remember kids drugs are bad

alright have a good day

-bubbles