Lost Again [Revised]

~+~One~+~

She chuckled along with him, patting him on the back and she slipped off the counter. "Will do, Bobby. Will you be there tonight?" She asked hopefully.

He frowned, a stern expression on his face. "No, probably not, but I'll see what I can do. Who knows, I might be able to see the aftermath of it all. I planned to visit him instead."

She smiled sadly, bad thoughts interrupting her already annoyed mood. "Hey, no worries. Don't rush here. Make sure to tell him I said hi and I miss him," Cerise muttered.

The corners of Bobby's eyes welled with tears, but he withheld them. Cerise knew he wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Not now. Not at the bar. She gave the old man a hug, whispering, "It's going to be alright. You've always got me and my little sisters."

He chuckled quietly, "I know and I'm very grateful for that. Thank you, Cerise. For taking me in your care."

"Don't worry about it, old man. I'm always here for you. You're more of a dad than my own pathetic excuse of a father," she growled out, her angering returning at the mention of her actual birth father.

Bobby pulled back with a small laugh, "Alright that's enough sadness. You have a fight to prepare for. Get yourself down there, girl. I wish you the best of luck."

Cerise waved her hand in front of her with a scoff. "Please, the other girl is the only one who needs luck. I've got skill on my side," she retorted with a laugh. Bobby rolled his baby blue eyes at her response, the smile fixated on his thin lips.

He suddenly turned serious, the smile replaced with a concerned frown. "Seriously, Cerise, you're like a daughter to me. Be careful in there."

She smiled carelessly. "I will Bobby, don't worry. I always am," she responded, her cold personality slipping through at the thought of pummeling the other girl until she was rendered unconscious.

"Alright, go on then. Don't let me stop you," Bobby muttered. He exited the kitchen and placed himself in the middle of the bar so he could serve to those who wanted to get wasted for the night.

Once Bobby left and was attending to his customers, she left the kitchen and headed down the hall. There was door at the end of the hallway with a sign above it saying, 'STAFF ONLY' in big black print.

The door opened easily and shut tightly behind her as she continued walking towards the back of the room. Midway through, she stopped in front of a painting to the left, hidden by empty boxes. Removing it from its place, she set it aside, knowing Jasper or Bobby would put it back up before anyone noticed it. They always did. Rarely, someone other than Cerise, Bobby, Jasper or the actual staff would come into the staff room. That's why the door to The Dome was there. If anyone other than her, Jasper or Bobby wanted to enter The Dome, there was a back entrance hidden behind trash barrels.

Cerise trudged down the stairs, her anger rising ever so slowly as she neared the entrance to The Dome.

No one knew why it was called that because it wasn't even shaped like a dome. It was just a giant square with a fighting ring in the middle. It just stuck from when it was first titled its name. The Dome was a home to all of the underground fighters, wanting to battle against others. It was a sanctuary to all that needed to fight.

Cerise turned right into another doorway. But instead of it being the typical wooden door, it was littered with beads of all colors. On top of the door read, 'Death's Angel'. Bobby's sloppy hand-writing made Cerise chuckle as she moved the beads away and entered the room.

It wasn't anything special. Just a mirror - for inspecting new cuts or bruises - a table for her First-Aid kit and trinkets, a punching bag and weights for working out, and a mattress with a small blanket lazily placed on top of it. Lightly painted dark purple walls adorned her eyesight as she reminisced on how long it took to actually do that. Cerise shook her head and pulled the cord connecting to the single light bulb above her.

She pushed herself on her knees and reached under the bed. Cerise grabbed the gym bag she was searching for and unzipped it. Her black tank-top, dark blue shorts and black hood were right where she left them. Taking them out, she quickly took off what she was wearing and put her replacement clothes on.

Cerise placed her precious leather jacket on the corner of the full-length mirror. She smiled as she pulled her brown hair into a tighter ponytail. Her barren feet guided her to the nightstand and she taped her wrists up carefully.

After a few minutes of lifting weight and attacking the punching bag she cast one last look at the mirror and left, prepared to fight this mystery girl that was so determined to beat her as well.

Except this girl wasn't going to win, Cerise was and she was completely one-hundred percent positive about that.

A/N: Obviously, i'm not the best writer and i'm not that good at all actually so please pardon any grammar mistakes and spelling and all that. It will be fixed eventually. Thanks!

~Morgan