Arron had been drinking and having fun with how everyone- no matter if they seemed to be drinking or not- was all acting the fool. His eyes passed over every girl in the club, but when Aria was on stage he couldn't help but watch her. She was a damn good performer. Sure, she could piss him off with her high thoughts of her romantic life and how he was some shallow p.o.s. Then there were the times that she was goofy and appealing and everything he could appreciate.
Seeing the explosion of reaction from her made his heart pump faster. Anger and arguments instantly sent a kind of giddy excitation running through his veins. His body always prepared to jump into a fight. But then she ran off.
Arron followed behind; his drunken state returning to a buzz at the fact that she was not happy. Rounding the corner in the alley, he heard the beginnings of tearing trying to be bitten back. "Aria?" He asked cautiously. He peeked over the boxes she was hiding behind, ready for her to throw a punch at him.