The Only Exception // l.p.

Chapter 2

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An hour into my practice I heard the door open and shut over my blaring music. That door is really loud...

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't know someone was here.." The accent was think and clearly not American. Maybe it was British or Scottish. I turned around to see a man about 19 or 20 standing in front of me. My hand reached over to my music and turned down my music.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked flipping my bangs out of my eyes and crossing my sweaty arms.

"Little harsh on words are we?" He said as he sat a bag down.

"I do as I please." I retorted standing my ground. "What is a pretty boy like you doing so far away from home?"

"I travel the world."

I raised an eyebrow switching the weight from my right foot to my left foot.

"I'm in a boyband.." He continued hoping I would catch on.

"One Direction?"

I shook my head. It sounded familiar. Like girly girl familiar. "So. You're a pretty rich boy huh? What are you doing in a gym in New York City? I thought pretty rich boys didn't like to sweat." He was now shirtless and wrapping his wrists and hands.

"I thought girls wore pink nail polish and makeup." He shot back.

Ooohhh.

Two can play at that game honey.

"Really? That's such a horrible comeback. And for your information, I'm not a preppy schoolgirl who wears makeup, paints their nails pink, obsesses over a stupid wanna be boy band, and is afraid to get in a little fight. When I fight, I fight like a man. I don't do any of that sissy shit. It shows that you're weak, and you don't know how to fight." By now I was in his face. "I've been fighting for a good nine damn years, and you can bet your fucking bottom dollar that I've never lost a damn match. I may be small. I may appear weak, but if you even think to lay a hand on me you'll end up on the floor with broken ribs, a broken nose, a few missing teeth, and maybe a broken arm." His eyes were almost out of his eye sockets as I backed away grabbing my iPod and heading towards the punching bag.

"Make sure you lock up after you leave. The key is under the mat outside the door. If you're going to be training or whatever here you need to have a spare key." I reached the punching bag and then turned around to see the shaved headed man sitting there looking at me. "Oh, and you should know that I don't play nice with other people." I sent him a smirk as I continued my training. This guy wouldn't last a day if he trained with me.

"What do you mean a stupid wanna be boy band?" The man finally asked as he walked over to me.

"You heard me." I replied not caring to look over at him.

"So you don't like our music?" He continued to ask.

"No. The only music I like is Eminem's music, and Hollywood Undead's music. Why in hell would you think that I'd listen to that shitty music? All they do is sing about their stupid fans, and making them feel beautiful when truthfully they probably don't even think they are."

"Excuse me? Every single fan of ours is beautiful in their own way! We love each and every one of them!" He yelled.

"Did you just yell at me?" I asked raising both of my eye brows. "No one yells at me. EVER!"

"Oh so someone can't yell at you, but you can sure yell at them?"

"Yeah. This is my gym. No one barges in thinking they can just practice. Well I'm sorry to ruin your day little boy, but that shit isn't happening in my gym. And there isn't going to be any rich sissy fighting either. So you can either follow my rules, you you can get the fucking HELL out of my gym." The man looked at me in the same expression as earlier. "Make your choice. Make it now and make it clear before all of this bottled up anger explodes and I start doing stuff I probably wished I hadn't." I roared.

"I'll follow your rules." He whispered.

"What? Did I not say make your choice CLEAR?!"

"I said I'll follow your rules." He said a little louder.

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I have a fight to prepare for." I said as I sat down on a mat and started doing sit-ups.

"My names Liam." The man stated. Liam? Who names their kid Liam? Then again who names their kid Bambi?

"Cool." I replied already on my 25th sit-up.

"Aren't you gonna tell me yours?" He questioned as he walked over to the punching bag on the other side of the room and started punching it. I watched him for a brief second and I saw his muscles flex every time his fist came in contact with the leather covered bag. It amazed me how buff he was and only looking to be around 19 or 20.

"Bambi." I whispered so quietly that I didn't even hear.

"Hmm?" He asked.

"My name." I said.

"What about it?"

"It's B-Bambi." I replied feeling embarrassed.

"I take it you like to be called something else?" I nodded once he looked a me.

"Bam." I said continuing my sit-ups.

Maybe Liam wasn't such a bad guy.

I mean he does box.

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~ DependsOnForever