I stepped out for some air and a smoke. And there he was.
Snot ran out of his nose joining the stream his tears made. He begged the bouncer for someone's phone number. I assume it was someone who could have saved him because I have never seen a grown man beg that hard.
We came downstairs after the music was turned off and the drugs wore off. They were already beating on him. 30 on 1. We stood the appropriate distance away.
The mamak owners packed all the tables and chairs up in under 5 minutes. I guess they've been through this a lot.
A piece of the helmet they were using to beat him slid on the asphalt and came to rest 5 feet from me. It staggered me when I realized how much force it would take to break a motorcycle helmet.
I remember thinking as the ambulance drove away that he must be dead because they didn't turn the sirens on.