(Trigger Warning: Violence, homophobic slurs)
[Hyde POV]
"This is a really great festival," Donna laughed as we walked back to the cars.
"Yeah, Hyde. It's really strange that you're the one who did all this," Eric looked at me suspiciously.
Jackie held my hand and said, "Eric, don't bother Steven. Like, don't even talk to him. In fact, stop hanging out with him, since you're going to lower his popularity with every word you utter."
Eric threw his hands up in disbelief. "I'm not that unpopular."
Fez laughed and said, "Yeah, Eric. You should really learn to stay in your place."
Kelso snickered and said, "Yeah. The only one who can speak to Hyde now is me. And maybe Donna."
"Why maybe?" Donna shot a glare at Kelso.
Suddenly, I heard yelling from behind me.
"You're dead meat, Hyde!"
Chad, furious and drunk, swung a tire iron at me. I pushed Jackie to the side, where she crashed into Eric and both of them fell to the ground.
I swerved backward to avoid the tire iron, and my body reacted instinctively. The stuntman's knowledge helped me figure out the best way to counterattack.
Kicking his legs after he missed the swing, he staggered and fell flat on the gravel ground.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
I swung my leg and kicked him in the stomach. He winced in pain and groaned pitifully.
"Oi! You Hollywood boy."
Some other drunken guys shouted at me. "You disco faggot."
My blood rushed to my brain.
"What the fuck did you call me?" I walked toward him angrily, but Kelso and Fez grabbed my shirt quickly.
"Hyde! Calm down." Kelso pointed at the gang of people there: dangerous‑looking guys in leather jackets, carrying knives and beer bottles. A group of bikers stood near the edge of the parking lot beside a pickup truck. Leather jackets. Long hair. Half‑drunk and loud enough that nearby people were already backing away from them.
One of them spat on the ground.
"Ruined a perfectly good rock show with that disco crap."
Another laughed.
"Festival's getting soft."
I exhaled slowly.
Donna grabbed my sleeve immediately. "Hyde. Ignore them."
One of them, a tall, 6′4″ guy with muscular arms and a beer belly, threw a beer can at me.
Someone whispered, "You fucking faggot. Calling a nigger up there to ruin the mood."
"You got something to say?" I asked flatly. "Or you're too pussy and have to hide behind your girl squad? No balls to say it in front of my face?" I taunted them.
"What the fuck—" Donna mouthed.
The CCTV near the area caught the altercation. A group of thirty staff members, all mechanics and blue‑collar guys, rushed to the area.
The biker spread his arms dramatically, laughing and mocking me with his friends.
"If you have a problem with the festival," I said calmly, "come say it properly."
The biker laughed. "Oh? Or what?"
I stared at him for a second before shrugging. "Or stop bitching forever."
"Boss!" Jeff called me urgently.
"No. Stay there." I pointed at Jeff. "I can handle these pussies myself."
The biker's smile vanished instantly. "Watch your mouth, pretty boy."
"No. I'm the pretty boy," Kelso interjected.
Everyone turned to him in confusion.
"What? I just need to make that clear." Kelso shrank back quickly.
"Or what?" I repeated, taunting the man. "Come on. I'm feeling generous today. If you want to fight, then let's fight. Don't just talk like a bunch of Jackies at cheerleading camp."
"Hey!" Jackie yelped, offended.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, you queer faggot?!" The biker shoved me hard in the chest.
The second his hand touched me, the crowd exploded. Not only the staff members, but drunk concertgoers also came to watch the show.
I slipped underneath the punch instinctively and drove my fist straight into his ribs, hard enough to make the air leave his lungs in one ugly choking noise.
The crowd screamed.
The biker stumbled backward against a parked car.
Then another guy rushed me from the side. This one was worse: older, stockier, with a military haircut. He didn't swing wildly. He grabbed my shirt, trying to tackle me onto the gravel road. I took a few steps back to stabilize myself.
We slammed into the side of a truck hard enough to shake it violently. Pain shot through my shoulder, but it excited me instead.
The guy immediately drove his forearm toward my throat while trying to pin me against the vehicle.
Army guy. Or at least trained.
I pushed his elbow deeper, causing him to lose balance. Then I headbutted his nose.
My forehead bled, but the guy's nose broke.
CRACK.
The guy recoiled instantly. Blood exploded across his mustache.
"Come on. Who's the pussy now?" I punched him and kicked him in the stomach. He slammed down to the ground.
Then boots hit my ribs. Hard. A third biker.
He grabbed my shirt and literally hauled me upward before punching me directly across the mouth.
My vision flashed white. The crowd roared. I tasted blood immediately.
The giant biker grinned through yellow teeth.
"There we go!"
He swung again.
I ducked under it barely and hammered two quick punches into his stomach before driving my shoulder directly into his chest.
The guy didn't fall.
"Jesus Christ," Eric shouted. He wanted to intervene, but Tyrell and Jeff stopped him. My workers also blocked Fez and Donna—who had picked up a rock from the ground.
But Kelso managed to squirrel past the blockade.
"Hyde!" Kelso joined in and tackled the guy from the side. The guy slammed his elbow on Kelso's back and threw him aside.
"Kelso, don't get in," I warned him, wiped my bloodied mouth, and waited for the guy to swing at me.
I got into his range and avoided his punch, counterattacking with a clean hit to his jaw. He stumbled, just barely.
I turned into a spinning kick and kicked him right in the face. His eyes rolled back and he dropped to the ground.
Someone thrust a knife at me. I managed to catch it before it reached my abdomen.
"You want to kill me? You fucker?!" I gritted my teeth and dislocated his shoulder.
"AHH!" He shouted in pain. I kicked him right in the balls, adding to his misery.
"NO WAY!"
I looked up briefly as I heard the familiar voice. David Lee Roth was standing on top of a van, shouting, "KICK HIS ASS, Mr. Hyde!!" He made a rock sign, also sticking out his tongue.
Even the rock fans were confused by it.
"What the fuck?"
Their identity crisis hit them like a truck when their own idols disowned them. Even Eddie Van Halen looked horrified beside him while the road crew desperately tried dragging them backward.
The giant biker charged me again.
I slipped sideways this time and drove him directly into the side mirror of a truck. The mirror snapped clean off.
He hit me anyway. A brutal hook directly across my face.
Blood poured instantly down my mouth. The crowd collectively winced.
I smiled anyway with my bloody teeth.
The biker stared at me strangely after that, like maybe he expected me to stay down.
Instead I spat blood onto the pavement and stepped forward again.
"Come on. I don't think you all have had enough, right?" I walked toward them, and they took a step back instinctively.
"So let's fight till the end." I opened my hands wide to welcome the challenger.
"This motherfucker is really crazy." Eddie Van Halen looked at me with disbelief. David Lee Roth threw his fist to support me. "Yeah! This is what I'm talking about!"
That's when the sirens finally arrived. Police lights flooded the parking lot in red and blue as officers stormed through the crowd screaming for everyone to get on the ground.
"Cops! Run!" Kelso shouted. The crowd dispersed quickly.
The fight finally broke apart slowly.
"Ah, damn." I crouched down. "My head is spinning."
Breathing heavily, I wiped blood from my mouth while people around us shouted over each other. Jackie quickly rushed toward me. "Steven! What the hell were you thinking?" She scolded me. "You're really hurt."
"Yeah, Hyde. You need to go to the hospital, right now," Donna said urgently.
"I'm fine," I waved off their concerns. "I just need some aspirin."
"You need to get your head X‑rayed, that's what. See if there's still some brain in there," Eric said, his tone really angry.
Timmy, the weird kid, suddenly shouted from afar. "HYDE WHOOPED THEIR ASSES!"
People began joining him.
"That dude's crazy!"
"Holy shit!"
"Hyde stood up for the disco people."
"So Hyde is pro‑queer people?"
I heard the muttering and was really confused by it.
"Let's get you home," Jackie said as she propped me up, slinging my hand on her shoulder. "And get you all cleaned up."
"You are still trying to take advantage of me in this situation? You're relentless," I teased, covering my body.
Jackie got mad and kicked my shin.
"Ow—" I yelped.
"Jackie! Don't do that to a patient!" Donna scolded her and took over.
"He's the one who got on my nerves," Jackie whined. "I wasn't thinking when I kicked him."
The police came by and saw Chad on the ground. They asked me, "Sir, is he one of the guys who attacked you?"
"What—Oh. No." I lied casually. "He tried to help and got knocked out. Can you send him to the hospital for me?"
"Oh. Okay." The officer accepted it casually.
Eric whispered to me, "Why did you do that? He tried to beat you up with a tire iron."
"I slept with his wife," I blurted out.
Eric, Donna, Kelso, Fez, and Jackie froze.
"You did what?!" Eric exclaimed, flabbergasted.
…
Mrs. Forman pressed a cold pack against my cheek.
I winced immediately.
"Oh, don't you 'ow' me, Steven Hyde," she snapped. "You were fighting grown men in a parking lot!"
Her voice was high and frantic. She was still extremely anxious after hearing about the fight. She'd nearly dragged me to the hospital herself, but once she checked that nothing was broken, she calmed down a little.
"I was winning," I muttered weakly.
"You were being crazy!!" she shot back instantly.
Eric pointed dramatically toward me from the couch. "He got hit by, like, twelve guys!"
"It wasn't twelve," I corrected him. "Only like… five. Wait. Seven…"
"There was a knife," Fez added casually.
Mrs. Forman froze completely.
"A KNIFE?!"
I rubbed my face in frustration and groaned, "Fez. Why would you say that?"
"He caught it!" Kelso added proudly. "Like a ninja!"
"That is NOT helping, Michael!" Jackie yelled.
Fez nodded enthusiastically. "It was honestly one of the coolest things I have ever seen."
Mrs. Forman looked genuinely horrified now. "Why are you all acting like this was football?!"
"Well…" Eric thought about it for a second. "There's a reason people watch boxing."
Mrs. Forman grabbed my chin gently and turned my face toward the lamp.
"Oh my God…" She sighed softly. "Your eye is swelling already."
"Looks kinda cool," Kelso admitted.
"Michael," Jackie warned him again.
"Sorry."
The room quieted a little.
"I'm gonna—I'm going to go get you some aspirin." Mrs. Forman hurried upstairs.
The second she disappeared, Eric leaned closer to me.
"So…" He lowered his voice. "Are you going to tell us about the wife?"
Everybody immediately moved closer.
I sighed tiredly. "I didn't know she was Chad's wife. Also, I thought they had some open relationship thing going on."
"Why would you think that?" Donna asked angrily.
"Because she told me," I replied nonchalantly. "And Chad's apparently sleeping with her aunt, so their whole relationship is messed up."
"If they're in an open relationship, why would he try to beat you up?" Eric asked, confused.
Kelso grinned immediately.
"I don't think he cares about his wife sleeping with someone else." He pointed at me. "He just cares that she slept with you."
Sometimes Kelso could be terrifyingly accurate about this stuff.
"What?" Donna looked confused.
Kelso explained, "Just think about it. If Eric was sleeping with somebody, you wouldn't want him sleeping with a Playboy model. You'd want him sleeping with an uggo."
"Someone non‑threatening," Jackie nodded knowingly. "Someone you know you're better than."
"Yeah," Kelso nodded.
"You guys are sick," Donna groaned, slightly disgusted.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore." I sighed tiredly. "I just want to sleep. And maybe put more ice on my face."
I stood up and started walking toward the basement.
Unfortunately, everybody followed me.
"Hey, maybe this'll make the news tomorrow," Kelso chuckled.
"Yes," Eric nodded seriously. "And then somebody'll make a movie about it."
Donna snorted. "Why would he need someone else to do it? He can literally make the movie himself."
"That's—" Eric paused.
"…Oh my God. That's actually true."
I rolled my eyes.
"Can you idiots just go home already?"
"It's only ten‑thirty," Eric yawned suddenly. "The concert ended way too early."
He paused. "Actually, never mind. I've been outside since this morning."
"Yeah, I'm exhausted too." Jackie yawned before suddenly turning toward me. "Hyde, can I crash in your room tonight?"
Kelso looked completely betrayed.
"What?! Why do you want to sleep with him?!"
"I'm not sleeping with him, Michael!" Jackie snapped.
Donna suddenly spoke up.
"I actually think Jackie should stay with Hyde tonight."
Kelso looked horrified. "Why? What kind of plot is this?"
"No plot." Donna rolled her eyes. "Somebody should keep an eye on him in case he has a concussion or passes out or something."
"That's true," I admitted. "But Jackie doesn't need to do it. Forman can just sleep in my room."
"Hyde, I am NOT sleeping in your room—"
"My room has air conditioning."
Eric immediately changed his tone. "…Okay. I'll watch over you tonight."
I looked toward Jackie and smirked. "Nice try."
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
"This isn't over," she pointed at me. "One way or another, you're going to be mine."
Donna yawned and said, "I'm just going to go back home now. Goodnight." She was the first to leave.
Red came down the stairs, his face full of worry. "Steven, I heard what happened."
"Don't worry, Red. He won the fight," Kelso laughed.
Red glared at him, which made him shrink back.
"Does this have anything to do with your father?" Red asked me.
"No." I shook my head. "Just some guys messing around. I knew if I backed down, they might interfere with the festival tomorrow too. So I had to fight them."
Red sighed heavily.
"I'm beefing up security tomorrow so you don't have to do stupid crap like this again."
"Red—"
"No objections." He pointed at me. "Your face is swollen already."
Then he turned toward Eric.
"Eric, go get a large bowl. Fill it with water and ice."
Eric nodded immediately and hurried upstairs.
Red looked back at me.
"Steven, you're going to dunk your face in it for at least ten minutes."
Kelso laughed.
"That actually sounds kinda fun."
Red slowly turned toward everybody else.
"All of you who aren't bruised up or living here, get out. Otherwise I'm making you wait in line to dunk your faces too."
Kelso and Fez looked at each other in panic before immediately rushing toward the door.
"Bye!"
Jackie stayed behind stubbornly.
"Mr. Forman, you have to save his face. He barely has any prettiness left already. We can't let it get ruined."
"You too. Out." Red pointed toward the door without hesitation.
Jackie threw her hands up dramatically and started walking away.
Before she could leave completely, I grabbed her wrist gently.
"Red, can you give her a ride home? It's already late," I asked calmly. "Or I'll have to do it."
Red sighed in defeat. "Fine. Jackie, let's go." Then he pointed at me again. "Steven, keep dunking your face until I get back."
"Okay," I agreed easily.
Eric came back with a large bowl of ice water. I dunked my face in it for over twenty minutes just to get the swelling down.
"I'm just going to go to sleep now." I yawned, feeling extremely tired. It didn't take me long before I passed out on my bed.
…
The second day of the festival. I still had cold patches on my cheek, and my body was sore.
While I was walking around, I noticed the gazes people were giving me.
It wasn't the same gaze as before. This was something more primal. More feral.
I wonder why last night happened. I thought as I tried to find the answer.
ChatGPT gave me a clue about the whole thing, but I found a more complete explanation through a YouTube video, mostly through a Saturday Night Fever analysis video.
{"Disco started in underground clubs. Black artists. Latino communities. Gay clubs. Dance culture. Places where people who felt unwanted could go and just exist for a night."
"Then it became massive. Too massive."
"That created problems. Companies commercialized it. Radio stations spammed it endlessly. Suddenly disco was everywhere. Fashion. Movies. Clubs. Television."
"Eventually, rock fans started treating it like an invasion."}
I listened quietly while the YouTuber dissected the culture surrounding disco.
{"Disco represented a completely different culture. Different people. Different values. Different identities."
"Rock crowds started treating disco like the enemy. And beneath a lot of those 'disco sucks' chants, there was usually something uglier hiding underneath."
"Racism. Homophobia. Misogyny. Macho insecurity."}
Then she showed footage from a few years in the future: people burning disco records publicly. They chanted "Disco Is Dead" and reveled in the fact that the movement had gone awry.
Honestly? That looked completely insane.
"I guess shoving disco into a rock concert overnight wasn't exactly a peaceful idea," I muttered to myself.
The video continued.
{"When Saturday Night Fever came out, it changed everything."
"The main character was a straight Italian‑American guy who loved dancing. That made mainstream white male audiences relate to disco culture in a way they hadn't before."
"The movie softened a lot of the hostility surrounding disco."}
Then the YouTuber went on a ten‑minute rant about white people.
At that point, I got what I wanted and closed the video.
"Hey, Hyde!"
I turned and saw a few people with afros and snazzy clothes waving at me.
I waved back awkwardly.
'Did I just become an icon or something here? What exactly happened after the fight last night?'
All I knew was that the stares were making me really uncomfortable.
(Read up to chapter 170 on my patreon.
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