The bowling alley was like a blast from the past; well, from a past you hadn't lived through. It looked as if it had been pulled right out of the eighties, each lane made out of glossy maple with big screens above the scoring areas flashing brightly with a neon memphis design. Neon lights shone green, purple and blue from every corner, making the bright red leather of the lane seating nearly glow. The moment you set foot inside of the place, you were met with a gut-punching feeling of excitement, a grin splitting itself over your lips as you tipped your head back to really, really take the sight of the place in. You could see the bathrooms in a far corner, a snack bar between them and the doors you had come in through. There was a counter to trade in your shoes for a pair of bowling ones, a little arcade, doors leading to private party rooms; it was awesome. 

"Welcome, friends," Brahms sweeps out an arm, smiling like a kid on Christmas, "To Ashboro Alley!" Billy, who was at your side, let out an appreciative hum and let some of the tension ease out of his shoulders. Michael, Norman and Jason were relatively unfazed, headed straight for the front counter with bounces in their steps and friendly banter thrown between them. They had never looked so 'in their element' before, save for the evening around the campfire. "Onwards, my friends," One of your hands was caught in Brahms', his other being extended towards Billy. With a moment's hesitation Billy cracked a small smile and took it, letting himself be dragged towards the counter in tow. 

"Hey, Michael! Norman! Jason! Good to have you back, should I get your usuals?" The boy behind the counter had dark brown hair that stuck up in spikes and a cheeky grin that reached from one ear to the next. You recognized him, but you are certain you hadn't spoken to him before. 

"Yes, please," Norman smiled as he stopped at the counter and folded his arms on its surface, "How's the shift tonight, Randy? Are your friends here like they usually are?" As the boy (Right, Randy- as in Randy Meeks) turned around to select the right shoe sizes for his regulars he nodded, craning his neck to throw his words over his shoulder in order for them to overpower the tinny 80's music.

"You bet, lane 11. The place is pretty packed tonight, you're lucky I remembered to get your lane reserved!" Juggling three pairs of shoes in his hands Randy turned back around and dumped them onto the counter, accidentally mixing the pile together and needing to pick them apart all over again. "I see you've got two newbies with you, huh? Who is that, uh," He squinted his eyes at you, trying to place your face, and then it dawned on him and he snapped his fingers, "Right, (Y/N) (L/N) isn't it? For your information you're one of the few people in this school who I don't think has the potential to be a mass murderer or a serial killer or some shit. It's nice to meet you, what shoe size?" You grin at his words and nod a joking thank you, letting go of Brahms' hand to approach the counter and request your own pair of shoes. "Alright, and you are..." Randy turns to Billy, and again his eyes squint halfway shut. It takes him a second longer to remember this name, and Billy seems to shrivel lightly under his scrutinizing gaze, but then Randy perks up again and his splitting grin returns. "Billy! Lenz, though, not Loomis. Good to see you here, man, what's your shoe size?" Now it was Billy's turn to, meekly, approach the counter. He placed his balled fists on it's tacky surface and muttered out the words, his shoulders tensing up again. 

"11's, ple-please," As soon as the words leave his mouth he takes a step backwards, and you shoot him a warm grin in hopes to ease his fraying nerves. It works, and his defenses melt back again. The shoes were retrieved and slapped down on the counter along with a pair for Brahms.

"Enjoy your lanes, kids, and try not to send a ball into the ceiling again." With a wink and a finger gun Randy hurried off to take care of the next customers, who had approached the counter at your side. 

"Off to the lane?" Michael asks in a hum, his gaze shifting evenly from one person to the next as he made sure everyone was all set to go. He's met with a series of affirming nods, and then the group begins to move as one towards the bowling lanes. You aren't sure which one is reserved for you, but everyone else (except for Billy) walks with a total confidence. You arrive at the one with the number '9' hanging from the roof in a glowing white, and follow the others as they plop down onto the leather couches to swap out their shoes. 

"You've got a whole lane dedicated to you?" You ask, smiling, and Jason shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. 

O N F R I D A Y S

He signs, and you let out a hum. 

"Awesome, right?" Norman says and elbows you gently in the side, leaning forwards to catch Billy's eye. You both mutter your agreements, a heavy feeling of excitement sparking in the air like invisible fireworks. Shoes are replaced and then it's time to add your names into the electronic scorekeeper. This one only allows four letters, meaning tonight's battle is between MIKE, NORM, JASN, BRMS, BILL and (Y/N) (but shortened to four letters ig). The first one up is Norman; he steps up to take a bowling ball, the one he grabs a vivid lime green that glows in the ultraviolet lights. "I just want to apologise in advance," He says with a sheepish expression, cradling the bowling ball as if it were a child, "I'm really no good at this, so don't mock me or anything." He shoots a joking glare in Brahms' direction, the curly-haired boy holding out his hands and claiming innocence. 

"Don't worry, Norman, I'll be worse than you. There's no judgement here." You lean back in your seat and motion with one hand for your friend to do his thing. With a deep breath and a determined nod, he does just that. Spinning on his heel, Norman steps into the approach area and sinks into a stance that looks pretty damn professional if you were one to critique. He sets one leg back, holding the ball in front of him, and then swings one arm behind before pulling it forwards again and releasing the ball in such a smooth roll that you actually scoff and sit forwards, amazed. The bowling ball sails down the lane in a unswerving line, right on course for the center pin- it hits with a clatter and the pins explode backwards, toppling one another over. You're certain he's got a strike, there's no way he couldn't have gotten a strike, but, to the disappointment of everyone around you one pin on the very far left stays selfishly upright. There is a burst of outrage, stupid pin! and so close! from all of your friends but you don't join in; instead, you applaud, an awestruck look still glued to your features.

"Norman!" You gasp out, "That was amazing! You almost got a strike!" He turns to you before he reaches for his second ball and lets out a confused laugh.

"What? Amazing? There's still a pin left, I-"

"But you got all of them! I probably would have hit the gutter!" Again, Norman laughs, and this time everyone else does too. The sheepish smile settling on his face again he lifts one hand to scratch at the back of his neck.

"We, well... we almost always get strikes. If you hit the gutter, then..." Now it's your turn to laugh because Norman is so reluctant to say that you're a lot worse than them. Reaching out to punch at his arm, you say it for him.

"Yeah, I told you all I was garbage at this. That's fine, though, I'm still having fun, and maybe I can get some pointers from you guys!" You lean back again, "Come on, Norman, get that pin down!"

---

"Oh, come on! Yes! Did you see that? I did it!" You shot your fist high into the air, relishing the way your friends exploded in applause and raucous cheering. You had just hit your first spare, about an hour into the game, and the occasion was monumental. Brahms saying he and his friends were bad at bowling was total bullshit, because they hit strikes (and if not, then spares) every single turn. Even Billy, who claims to have never bowled in his life, was a total natural and had scored three times more points than you. Jason, who was next to play, leaped from his seat and raced forwards to wrap you in a celebratory hug that you accepted with delight. His arms wrapped securely around you and lifted you from your spot, spinning you rapidly around in circles until your brain had been spun into mush. He set you down and you staggered, letting out a breathy laugh and sinking back into your seat to let him play his turn.

"That was awesome, (Y/N), you did really good!" Billy smiled widely, showing off a set of perfectly-straight teeth, and held his hand up in a shy high five. He had come out of his shell a little as the game had progressed. You returned his high five with thank you, turning to watch Jason pick up a highlighter pink bowling ball and approach the shooting area. You let him take his shot as your head settled once more from the spinning, and then, after a bought of congratulations since he had hit yet another strike, you stand.

"Alright, alright, I'm running to the snack bar real quick- I'll probably be back before my next turn." Michael offers a nod, the only answer you receive since everyone is now 100% engrossed in watching Jason take another ball (bright blue) and go for a second strike. You linger for one more second, watching Jason take his place, and then set off towards the massive neon sign marking your destination. Ten steps away and your friends all start to cheer; Jason must have gotten that other strike. Once you got far enough away from the bowling lanes the place was rather empty, easier to navigate and easier to see through. You counted about 30 people milling around and two thirds of them were in the arcade, meaning the line at the snack bar was pleasantly short and you'd definitely get back to your friends in time for your next turn. Pulling your wallet out of your pocket you flip it open and thumb through the cash that you'd brought- 40$- and then turn your gaze up to the hanging menus. They were decorated with rocket ships and UFO's, all of the food items space themed. Just as you were straining your eyes to read the details under the 'MEAT-eor Fries' (french fries topped with melted cheese, hamburger meat, tomatoes etc.) you heard a low whistle and felt a presence step up to your side- you half expect it to be Danny, thrown yet again into your way by fate, but then the presence speaks. 

"Well well! If it isn't Danny's little sidepiece," The voice is familiar but not one you recognize straight away. You snap your gaze away from the menu to look over at the newcomer, and that's when it all clicks; this is Freddy Krueger, one of the boys who had stayed behind at the party to use the Ouija board. 

"E-Excuse me?" You say with a nervous chuckle, partially taken aback by the phrase. Suddenly, you feel his hand on the small of your back and your discomfort shoots through the roof. Freddy leans in a little closer.

"I don't get what you see in him, doll, I'm sorry to say; I think I'd treat you so much better." This creep has the audacity to wink at you, taking a step closer, and you try not to flinch. "He's got nothing going for him. What do you say? Ditch the guy, huh?"

"What do you mean 'ditch the guy'? I- I don't understand and-"

"I mean break up with him, he's not worth it," The hand on your back slides just a bit lower, and you shudder. This has gotta stop right now.

"I'm not dating Danny, God no! Who do you think I am? And I don't want to date yo-"

"That's just perfect then, you're free for me? Could I get a phone number or something like that? I promise, we'll have a great time," Lower, Freddy's hand moves lower and you suddenly have the burning urge to shove him violently away but your muscles have tensed up and your mind has skipped right over fight or flight to sit totally frozen. "I know how to take good care of someone who gives me the chance. I'm one hell of a guy if you just let me show you all I can do." Again, he winks, and you have gotta get out of here, this isn't okay. "Come on back to my place with me, we can-"

"Freddy? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Now this voice you recognize and Jesus Christ for the first time in your entire life you're relieved to hear it. Freddy basically leaps away from you, arms retracted to himself, and as soon as he's gone you regain control of your body, whipping around to face Danny and his blazing golden eyes. 

"What's it to ya, Dan, I'm just trying to pick up a date-" Freddy tries to move back towards you but Danny is having none of it. 

"It's clear as fucking day that you're making them uncomfortable." Just before Freddy can wrap his arm around you again, Danny shoves himself forwards and pushes it away to stand between you and this creep. "You can't just go- touching people like that, man, it's fucked up. Weird as shit." Freddy's eyes narrow and his brows knit together, arms crossing over his chest. 

"Why do you even care, Danny, I thought you hated this bitch. Have you always gotta get in my way?" Freddy's words drip with acid, and his own eyes light aflame as well. Danny was taller than Freddy by a good inch, but it was clear that the shorter man was far from intimidated. Crossing his own arms and glowering over him, Danny was unmoving. 

"It's not 'getting in your way', it's stopping harassment. Get that through your head, Freddy." There is a beat of silence and then Freddy's eyebrows raise slowly, a shit-eating grin spreading itself across his face. He must have seen something in Danny's eyes that you couldn't.

"Oh, I see. Is that what's going on here?" A bud of confusion drops into the pit of your stomach; Danny's shoulders tense for a quick second before he forces them to relax again. "Well, Dan, I hate to say it, but... I really think they want something with me. I think me and (Y/N) would be a hit." Freddy takes a teasing step closer, nose-to-nose with Danny now, "I would have taken them back home, offered some alcohol, and... well, I think your imagination can do the rest." Danny's jaw had tightened up, his hands balling into white-knuckled fists. 

"They wouldn't want that." His words are strained and monotone. You can tell he's covering up raw fury with an icy calmness. 

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think if they got even a taste of what I can do they'd be all over me. But, well, there's always a chance that they wouldn't- why don't we ask them themselves?" Freddy took a step to the side, his glittering eyes connecting with yours and drawing out an uncomfortable shudder. "What do you say? Would you take a ride on the Freddy train if you were offered a ticket, kitten-?" 

Danny sends Freddy to the ground with a punch across the face that draws startled gasps from everybody around you. The hollow crack of his fist against Freddy's head thudded around in your mind for the entire duration of the silence that followed; and then Freddy was letting out a furious cry and leaping to his feet, rushing for Danny and tackling him to the ground. 

"Hey! Hey no, stop!" The words spit themselves out of your throat as onlookers gather, muttering behind their hands or watching in frightened silence. You surge forwards as Freddy traps Danny beneath him with a surprising strength, pulling one arm back and slamming it forwards in a crushing blow- a spray of blood flies from Danny's nose. Just as you manage to grab Freddy by the back of the shirt Danny is rearing forwards, and you stumble away as he throws Freddy off of him and rolls to clamber back to his feet. His teeth are bared, his hair wild, a stream of blood running a trail of scarlet down his lips and to his chin. you can tell that he is out for blood. "Danny, Danny don't-" Your words fall on deaf ears and both Danny and Freddy lock into battle once more. They fight viciously, like lions, devastating punch after devastating punch, relentless in their efforts to take one another out. Danny took a second blow to the cheek, splitting it. Freddy took a hit to the stomach and staggered a single step backwards before pushing back in. You notice now that the crowd has doubled in size; people were cheering. 

"Randy- Randy! What are you doing?! Call the police!" You hear the one who must own the bowling alley scold, and turn quickly to see Randy grinning, watching the fight go down with his phone out. As soon as he's told off he clicks it away and goes to dial 911. You have got to get Danny out of here. For a reason you can't place right now in the midst of your panic, you feel like you absolutely cannot let him get arrested. Bracing yourself, you throw yourself back into the fray, hearing the voices of your friends shouting concerns that you can't decipher through all the rest of the noise. Danny and Freddy have started swearing at one another every chance they get; your head begins to pound with all of the shouting and chaos. Freddy swings out an arm but Danny catches it, returning his own punch to his enemies chin and then ducking low to dodge a second swing aimed for his head. 

"Stop it, both of you!" You raise your voice so high your throat stings with the words, which only end up making the situation works. Freddy's gaze catches yours and he winks yet again, Danny seeing the action clear as day and letting out a furious cry as his strength is renewed and his anger is doubled. Freddy doesn't see him coming, and he's on the ground, trapped beneath Danny, before he can even process it; a second later, the beating starts, blow after blow after blow. "Danny! Danny, no get off!" You know that your words won't work so you decide to save your breath. Instead of shouting, you rush for Danny and go to hook your arms underneath his either arm, catching an elbow to the face that sends splinters of pain through your head and makes you eye tear up. Ignoring it and gritting your teeth, you ignore the risk of harm and snap your arms around Danny's torso, using all of the strength in your limbs to rip him backwards and away. He throws one more punch at Freddy and it skims the air just above his nose. At the loss of contact Danny realizes what's happening, that he's being detained, and he turns his aggression towards you.

"Get the fuck off of me! Leave me the fuck alone or I swear to God I'll beat you into the fucking ground!" You ignore his threats and continue to drag him backwards, away from Freddy, who was climbing to his feet and swaying heavily from side to side. Danny was kicking and writhing and you knew you wouldn't be able to outdo him in strength for long; once his initial rage passed he would get smart again, and then he would do just as he had threatened moments before. 

"Danny, stop, for the love of God we have to go! The police are coming, they're going to-" You flinch away from a flailing fist, "They're going to arrest you!" That gets through to him. Danny freezes up, swallows hard, and then the reality of the situation hits him. He's just beat the shit out of one of his friends in a public setting, and the police were on their way. He stops his thrashing, beginning to tremble.

"Oh, fuck, oh no-" he's been thrown into a panic in front of all the people he has a reputation with. His gaze dances around, one person to the next, and he steels himself, putting on a calm, icy mask and breaking out of your grasp with ease. He whirls on you. "Don't you fucking touch me," He spits, staggering a step backwards, "You never interfere with my fights. Ever." Distant sirens touch your ears, and it seems Danny has heard them too. He spots the emergency exit and races for it, wiping the blood from his face as he does so. You turn to look in the direction of your friends, and then Freddy, and then, without another moment's thought, you run towards the emergency exit to pursue the boy who'd just gotten in a fight for you. 

(A/N): I really like this chapter I think :] Thoughts?