A Lost Creation

Tantrum

You start thundering down the stairs the second the clock reaches eight thirty, the exact time that Dabi had told you his big meeting would be over.
Well, they had all been at the meeting, leaving you completely alone for two hours for the first time since leaving home and being on the streets. It had been weird, even if you could hear the slight murmuring downstairs from your room.
You had spent the first hour or so drawing, actually finally making use of the sketchbook that Giran had bought you a little while ago. It was mostly because he kept asking you to use it, claiming that the imperfections you may create would be good to look at the better you get, eventually promising that if you ended up messing up this sketchbook, he'd get you a brand new one.

Eventually, the drawing got boring, particularly during the colouring in, which became mundane and repetitive, so you gave up. Instead, you chose to lay on your side on top of your bed and watch the clock, waiting for the end of his meeting, gripping your teddy tightly in your arms.

The further down the stairs you get, the louder the voices coming from the bar sound. It sounded busy today, maybe more than just the usual seven of you.
You're surprised at the volume of noise coming from the bar. Usually Shigaraki would get a little snappy with people if it got a little too noisy, he liked things to be quiet for some reason.
When you finally enter the bar, you realize that it really was busy. There were new people everywhere, mostly male. A few of them were a lot bigger, and a lot more well built than you'd like. The sight makes you anxious nearly instantly, and you duck behind Kurogiri nervously.

"Miss Star." He greets, wringing out a towel. "What's the matter?"

"Where's Dabi?" You ask quietly, looking around, but struggling to find him amongst all the new, tall, people that were currently in the room.

"He's over by the jukebox, dear." Kurogiri informs you. "Would you like some juice? A snack?"

You shake your head, heading off towards the jukebox, knowing that finding Dabi would provide you with some comfort. You always felt a little safer with him nearby.
You manage to make your way through the busy bar without drawing too much attention to yourself, noticing everyone you knew had kind of huddled together.
When you spot Dabi, you stop dead in your tracks, your eyes widening in panic.

Dabi was leaning against the jukebox, something you were quite used to witnessing when he wanted to smoke. But the issue wasn't necessarily him, he looked as unbothered as always, his glacial eyes half-lidded, and his face set in a stoic expression.
The problem was who he was with.
Blonde, short hair, tall and muscular, with a large, red scar running down over one eye. He even had that cocky smirk that you knew so well from before still. He was chatting to Dabi animatedly, laughing even when Dabi didn't.
Before you can back off, away from Dabi, away from Imasuji, back to an area of safety and comfort before you begin panicking and making a scene and breaking the fourth rule, Dabi catches your eye, cracking a smirk and motioning for you to come over.

You shake your head a little bit, taking a small step back, only to freeze in place when Imasuji catches you in his gaze, a confused look crossing over his face before that horrible, smug grin is back on his face.

"What's the matter, Star?" Spinner asks, suddenly behind you.

That was almost worse, knowing that you were about to freak out any minute now and Spinner was the closest one to you.

"Star?" Imasuji asks with a derisive snort. "Aw, you got a whore name, jus' like your mama."

The blood rushes to your ears, and the whole room seems to go silent aside from the sound of your heartbeat in your own head.
Spinner pulls you close to him, in a move that was likely meant to be comforting, but sets off all kinds of alarms in your head, your arms moving before you could really think about it to shove him away.
He grunts a little at the shove, as you do it with a lot more force than you would have intended to if you weren't panicking. But he doesn't try to touch you again, instead putting his hands up in the air in a motion of surrender, offering a quiet apology.