Dancing With The Devil

the devil is back

«Best way to not get your heart broken, is to pretend you don't have one»- Charlie Sheen

Song: Heartless- The Weekend
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A year later Evelyn is going back to Italy, but this time it's not for a boxing match.

"Boarding flight 284 to Sicily, Italy"

I looked down at my shaking hands. A year later and flying on a plane still scared the shit out of me. My eyes fell on the tattoo I had gotten with Dad after I came home from winning the world championship, a week before he died. He had gotten the exact same, it was very simple. It just said «champ» in his handwriting. I felt one single tear fall down my cheek. I quickly brushed it away and after that one moment of vulnerability I felt the rage surge back into me. I was gonna get revenge. Whatever it took.

As I walked to the gate, I remembered how dad had checked up on me last year when I was taking the exact same route. I felt a sting in my chest thinking about how this time I wouldn't be getting any texts. I remember I had gotten a text from Maddy back then as well, but her texting me now was even more unlikely than my dead dad coming back to wish me luck. After she and Scott went behind my back to fuck while I was at the most important match of my carrier, I hadn't talked to either of them. I just sometimes see their moms posting stupid ass shit on Facebook  like "Maddy has never been happier" or "Scott and his beautiful girlfriend". Fuckers

I go on my phone to put it on airplane mode and see that I had in fact gotten a text. Although it wasn't a «good luck with the flight» typa' text. It was from an unknown number, and it just said:

"Black Mercedes G-wagon waiting to pick you up at the airport at 5 PM, Italian time"

While I was reading the message another one popped up, from the same number

"The ball starts at 9 PM sharp, look your best. Everything you need will be in the hotel room".

I felt the adrenaline rush through me because of the messages from whoever the mafia had assigned to send me my instructions. Today was the day I had been waiting for. I was finally getting revenge for what happened to my best friend in the whole world, my dad. A year ago, a mission like this would've scared me to death, and I would've kept thinking about all the possible consequences. But as I watched the spider net of light that was New York city getting smaller and smaller while rushing 500 mph into the air I knew that there was nothing left for me here, I didn't care what happened. I had lost the only three people I cared about and if people thought I was heartless last year; they should see me now.

After my mental breakdown when my dad died, that lasted about 6 months, Jackie, one of the girls I work with had slipped me a note with an adress, a time and a date, telling me that it was gonna help me grieve. She was kind of right, but not in the way I thought. I had shown up to the adress, just to see what it was about. It was a big warehouse. I thought Jackie was pulling a prank on me but then, a woman in black sunglasses and two guards had come out of the building and invited me inside. I went in even though I was practically shitting my pants, What was I thinking? Going inside a warehouse with some random people in suits. But as I look back, I'm glad I did.

They told me how my dad had been involved in the mafia, that they knew who had killed him and that I could get revenge if I wanted to. I was so shocked and had so many questions, and thought I was gonna pass out when they asked me to join their mafia, I thought that was only the type of shit that happend in movies. But now I know, it's very fucking real.

Ever since that day I have been training with them after school and work, and I had gotten pretty fucking good. I now knew how to fire a gun, throw knives and even though I already knew how to fight, I had become even better. I had also learned how to ride a motorcycle and drive a car. I was still drinking almost every night and had been diagnosed with insomia. But atleast now I had something to live for. The feeling of revenge. I hadn't seen the woman who met me since that very first day. I found that weird but I guess the leader probably doesn't participate much in the training.

Then finally they thought I was ready for the mission and called me yesterday to tell me I was leaving in the morning. I was SO ready.

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At the airport the G-wagon was waiting for me like planned. The driver was a tall man probably in his mid-thirties wearing an all-black suit and black sunglasses. He didn't speak to me at all on the drive from the airport to the hotel.

I checked into the hotel and went up to my room. On the bed laid the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was red satin with a split on the side and had a V-neck. Next to the dress laid, NO THERES NO WAY?! Red.fucking.bottoms. My dream shoes. The only heels I would ever agree to wear, I wonder if they knew? I took off my Jordan Obsidians and put the heels on straight away, walking them in a little wouldn't hurt, would it? I noticed something else laying on the bed, next to the dress. A mask? Not one of those surgical blue ones but a masquerade ball typa mask. I didn't know it was a masquerade ball? Well, I guess that would make the mission a bit easier.

I did my makeup while blasting Nicki Minaj on my speaker. When I was done, I put on the gorgeous dress.  I didn't bother to put on the mask just yet. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I actually looked really good. My hair fell elegantly over my shoulders and complimented my face shape, my eyeshadow and facial makeup looked perfect, my lips were red like the dress. The dress, that was the best part, it looked even better on, it hugged my curves perfectly but at the same time didn't give away too much. It sat perfectly on my body type and as I looked at myself, I felt pretty again...

I used to like how I looked, but ever since my dad died I just hadn't given a fuck and I never put any effort into looking good anymore. I stared into my eyes to say my affirmations. It wasn't a boxing match today, but I really needed them. But as I looked into my clear blue eyes, I noticed that something was off. I had done the eyeliner really carefully and it turned out good, so that couldn't be the case.

I leaned closer to the mirror and stared at my eyes. The eyes that used to be so full of determination, lust and passion were now just so... empty. They were staring back at me with absolutely no emotion, just empty and cold. Maybe that wasn't so weird, considering that's how I felt. Empty, cold, and vindictive. Suddenly I was back to focusing on the mission again. Today, I swore to fucking Aphrodite: that.fucker.will.pay.