I'm In Love With A Monster

Chapter One

Smoke slips from my lips, floating away in a cloud of its own, the nicotine calming my body, the cool breeze of the winter sending a chill down my spine. I discard my smoke upon the freezing concrete under my feet, smothering the embers with the sole of my combat boots. My choice of pants, ripped black skinny jeans, was a bad idea, the chilling winter breeze licks at the exposed skin, making me shiver, my teeth chattering. The only warmth coming from my excellent choice of wearing a hoodie, my purple ‘Everlast’ hoodie, my sister having bought it for me a few months back. I adjust the black beanie upon my head, the colour matching my skinny jeans, the purple ‘Everlast’ lettering tying in my hoodie to my outfit.

Jazz scurries over, little puffs of smoke like substance falls from her lips as she breaths out. The chill becoming evident, her hands are shoved in the pocket of her heavy winter coat. I sigh, coming back to the reality of my new life. Jazz doesn't say a word, she hands me a mint and my berry body spray. I pop the mint in my mouth, letting it take the smell of smoke from my breath, I spray myself heavily, enjoying the amazing smell that lingers.

I hand the can of deodorant back, a evil smirk falling onto my lips, I sprint towards the staircase, looking back I catch Jazz rolling her eyes, following after me, probably already regretting agreeing to be my manager.

Reaching the waiting within minutes, a proud smile falling onto my lips easily. Jazz finally makes it into the waiting room, her legs trembling slight, her breathing ragged and uneven. I chuckle lightly, helping Jazz to the same couch as last time, shaking my head at her non existent stamina, making my way over to the reception desk. I ring the same bell, once again purposely scaring the same bitchy receptionist. She looks up, glaring once she sees me standing in front of her, I smirk knowing she wishes I would just disappear already.

“How may I help you?” She asks through gritted, her jaw clenched shut, I try not to laugh at how ridiculous she looks. 

“I have a meeting with Simon Cowell,” I chuckle, not being able to hold it any longer, she rolls her eyes.

“And your name is?” She sass, I just laugh harder.

“You obviously aren't good with name,” I chuckle, pissing her off even more, I speak seriously,”Kingsley Taylor is the name.”

She just huffs, annoyed at my lack of maturity, I smirk, making my way over to my unfit manager. Jazz sit is trying to suck oxygen in her lungs, her arms are now hanging over her head, her best attempt to open up her lungs. I chuckle lightly, sitting beside her, earning a seriously pissed off glare. 

“I think you need to work out or something otherwise you will never keep up with me,” I laugh, earning myself a warning glare.

She nudges my shoulder, rolling her eyes and glaring at me in the same pissed off way as the receptionist. I chuckle, knowing she already know I'm right. Working out in a gym would really help her stamina, she will never catch her breath with me otherwise.

I didn't grow up like most kids, I had responsibility from the moment my father walked out on us, I was three when he left. I cared for my little sister, I was five when that responsibility fell to me. I was forced to work, I was fourteen, I worked long nights, spending long days in school. The money I earnt, it never went far enough, most nights we were left to go hungry, it had been that way since my father walk out. I learnt when the hunger pains set in to exercise, putting my weak body to the limit, the pain from hours of exercising was more bearable than that of hunger’s. 

“Kingsley Taylor?” Simon voice calls, filling my eardrums, bluntly ripping me away from old memories.

I lift Jazz to her feet, her legs still trembling like jelly, I roll my eyes, guiding her over to Simon. He stands holding the door open with his back, a smile featured on his lips, his face glowing, probably from all the anti aging cream he uses. He extends his closed fist out, awaiting my signature ‘handshake’ you could call it, I smile, bumping my fist against his, the perfect greeting. Simon’s gaze moves from me to my still panting manager, his perfectly shaped eyebrow lifts, silently asking me what her problem was.