The waiter came around to their table after a little while of chatting and browsing the menu. However, the waiter wasn't exactly the most friendly one at the restaurant. He kept sending Chris suspicious looks in between writing everyone's orders down. Ricky guessed he had to be some sort of snotty rich kid that still lived with his parents just to mooch off their cash.

When he returned with their food, the waiter even went as far as to bend down to the table's level, giving Ricky, Ryan, and Angelo a certain look, before saying, "I don't appreciate you bringing Frankenstein's monster into this restaurant."

He didn't even give the group time to respond before walking off, to ask whatever table he had to serve next if they'd like to see today's specials.

This time, though, Chris didn't seem to become saddened by the stares and comment from the waiter. Tonight, he actually seemed to be getting more angry about it than anything, which was a bit odd for Ricky to see. Chris never expressed anger before, at least not in front of him.

"Hey, hey, don't let that asswipe get to you," Ricky said gently, placing his hand on top of Chris' on the table.

"Ricky's right," Angelo piped up. "He's just some lowlife judgmental dick."

"You know, last time I checked, people who have jobs serving other people are supposed to at least pretend to be friendly," Ryan chuckled, taking a bite of his food. "That's what I have to do, isn't it?"

The group continued their chatter, Ryan and Angelo flirting with each other more often than Ricky was expecting them to. He was glad that Angelo was finally getting the chance to act on his feelings for the younger boy, and he was also happy that those feelings ended up being reciprocated. Ricky, though, he was still trying to put his finger on what exactly he was starting feel for Chris.

Ricky kept his hand on Chris' for the rest of the meal, the taller boy content with his actions. He seemed to have calmed down since the waiter tried to insult him, but that wasn't going to last for long.

Of course, the place being a more fancy type of restaurant, tended to attracted more stuck-up wealthy people than anything. It was almost a surprise that anyone at his table would be able to afford to eat at this place, but Angelo was fortunate enough to have a lot of money in the bank from his father. And Ricky wasn't exactly lacking funds either, seeing as his father brought in quite the amount of money from his job as well.

However, the stereotypical wealthy snobs that normally attended this place were nothing like Ricky or Angelo. Because every time any of those people passed by their little group's table, they would send the four looks of judgement, or even make little statements under their breath that they thought they wouldn't hear. Of course, though, they did hear them.

Most of the comments made were about Chris, but that was expected. At least, Ricky expected it. But what he wasn't expecting was for anyone to actually come up to the table and give them shit. But that's exactly was happened. A middle-age couple approached their table a little more than halfway through their meal, giving all four of them quizzical looks.

"What do you little scoundrels think you're doing in here?" The woman asked. "Do you really think you can even afford to eat here?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure we can, considering my dad's in the medical field," Angelo replied, rolling his eyes.

That threw the two of them off a bit, but of course, that wasn't the only comment they had.

"That's a surprise," the woman scoffed. "The four of you don't look anything like the kind of people who belong here. Especially that one," she said, gesturing to Chris, who turned his head to look at her.

"So," the man began, a hint of a smirk on his face, "young man, why exactly do you have those metal, erm... Things lodged in your neck? You look like some sort of monster," he said with a laugh.

Chris huffed, ignoring the two, but Ricky, who was sitting in front of him, could see that he was starting to get worked up again.

"Aw, what's wrong, can he not speak?" The woman laughed along with her husband.

"Oh, he can, he just doesn't want to speak to you," Ryan responded.

"Hard to believe," the man said. "He's barely moved since we walked over, and he hasn't talked once. It's almost like he's dead."

And at that, Chris had had it. Slamming his hands on the table, Chris stood up from his seat, facing the couple, who were now looking at him in fear. Ricky watched Chris in panic, praying to a god he didn't believe in that he wouldn't start some sort of fight.

But, of course, not everything was going the way Ricky hoped it would. Chris stared right into the man's now widening eyes, throwing a punch right at his face, causing his nose to immediately start bleeding.

"I-I think he... Broke my nose," the man breathed out, his fingers covering his nose as his wife held onto his shoulders.

The waiter that had served them had to be the first one of the staff to notice the commotion, and was now on his way to the table, much to Ricky's dismay. And, also to Ricky's dismay, Chris wasn't going to let the waiter get away unharmed either. He kicked the waiter in the stomach, knocking him to the floor, then leaned to down next to his ear, holding him down by his neck. "How's this for a m-monster?" He asked with a sick smile, picking him up by his neck, then throwing him back down to the floor with force.

This, of course, had caught the attention of multiple staff members by now, and several people were rushing over to the table. But before anybody could get to him, though, Chris ran towards the door, making his way out. The staff began to run after him, but Ricky was determined to get to him first.

He quickly tossed down some money to pay for his own meal as well as Chris', then turned to his two friends.

"I would suggest getting out of here soon," he sighed. "Go enjoy your date somewhere else. I'm really sorry we fucked this up for you."

Ricky dashed out of the place then, going straight for his car, which was parked about a street away. He would surely make it there before anybody else, considering it was his own car.

Sure enough, Chris was right next to it, trying to even out his breathing. Ricky approached him cautiously, not wanting to anger the taller boy. Chris noticed him, and his eyes seemed to soften the slightest bit, his fists unclenching.

"Fuck, Chris, why did you do that?" Ricky questioned once he got closer. "You've never gotten so angry about people saying shit like that. What happened in there?"

"I-I... I d-don't know," Chris replied. "I d-don't know. P-Please, h-help me."