The day has been relatively normal. I haven't seen Blake in about two days with our schedules constantly clashing. She had school while I had free time, then when she had free time I had school or training sessions for boxing. It was a complete mess and I missed her a lot.
It was still strange for me to be so attached to someone like this. I don't even know when I realized I liked her or when she even caught my full attention.
I like you as much as birds like to fly.
That's what I told her and I meant every word.
When I first met her she was a new pretty face behind the familiar bar that I thought about fucking every time I saw her.
Then I followed her to the bookstore and she was completely captivating. Like her book. Her golden blonde hair and the way it flowed as she walked, the small bounce in her step when she walked towards something that caught her interest, her straight teeth and gorgeous smile.
Everything about her.
She was my addiction and fuck I needed to get high.
The beach was a very important part of our relationship, whatever it was. She learned things about me that nobody else knew. She learned the real me. The part of me that sits and paints because I find it calming and stress relieving. The part of me that digs my toes in the sand just to watch it sift through the space in between each toe.
The part of me I want her to see.
The only bad part is, I have a whole other side to me.
The killer, the monster, the drug dealer, the criminal, the murderer.
I physically can't have her know that about me. That's not who I truly am. I hope she won't run from me.
For your eyes only, Blake, I show you my heart.
I have a training session in about thirty minutes and I feel like jogging all the way to the gym to get an extra workout. My gym has a ring in it that I use, so I can't use the campus one because it doesn't have the necessities. My gym is about 4 miles away from my apartment complex so I'll just up my speed for my regular mile time to get there on time.
I lace up my running shoes, while I wear regular black workout shorts and a tight dri fit black shirt that shows off every muscle in my torso. I throw my boxing gear and wrap my hands into a running backpack that I can easily travel with. Usually, I leave my boxing gear in my locker at the gym but I had to bring it home to properly clean everything.
I had won my last boxing match that Grant, Anna, and Blake had come to see. It was an easy match, my skill level being way higher than my competitor, considering that one was a volunteer and the only fighting experience he had was probably getting beat up for fucking another guy's girl.
Blake watched from the bar, Anna darling was captivated by my every move, Grant sat there with a proud look on his face. He was proud of me.
Some people never were.
We had a fun night that night. We all got wasted, Grant and Anna had some fun to themselves, after that, Blake got off. We all took some time dancing and maybe Blake and I even grinded a bit.
Typical.
Her body flowing against mine in complete sync as he ass rubs against my rock hard-
Harry. Get it together.
Moving swiftly on.
Blake and I didn't sleep together in her bed at her apartment like usual that night because she had classes the next day and didn't want to wake me in the morning. She knew I would be sleeping in late.
Without a second thought, I open my door and step out into the apartment hallway. I lock my door behind me before I start trotting down the steps and onto the solid concrete.
The day wasn't as hot as usual but it was definitely sweat producing heat. I dressed in black to attract more heat to burn more calories.
If I drink my weight in beer I have to burn off the calories. People should know this by now.
I start pacing myself as I head out onto the sidewalk, my steps picking up faster and faster. I try to keep my steps light and quick, just as I do in the ring. I don't want to burn off most of my energy on the run over there.
I usually go on jogs between three to seven miles, depending on my day. Sometimes I'll push it to ten if I need to get something off my mind or I'm feeling antsy, but I usually only do about five mile runs.
I used to run a lot back when I did marathons in highschool. I trained and trained for them, using running and exercise as an outlet to get away from the abuse that was my father.
I didn't even fucking like running that much.
That's probably what drew his eye to me when the club owner needed a regular fighter for business. I got into regular fights because I attracted trouble, I was athletically inclined, my stamina was through the roofs, and I was his son.
The sidewalk concrete of campus is passing under my feet as I run quickly through the streets, passing by apartment complexes and local restaurants. The red brick buildings flood my peripheral vision as I run past them, sometimes the glint in a window catching the corner of my eye. Each step of mine, pulsing all the way through my legs and back to my lungs. I can almost feel the blood rushing through my system.
Running has always put a pause on all my stressful thoughts, giving me a small bit of peace through my day. But today my thoughts only bounced back to Blake and what she is to me.
Does she think of me ever? Because I sure think of her a hell of a lot. I wouldn't go as far as to call her my girlfriend, but she is definitely not a friend, unless friends make each other come.... on a regular basis then.... yes?
I mean, I do know she likes me but what does that confession intel with her, cause I sure as hell like Grant but I'm not stirring his tea with a cum coated spoon.
This is like I'm in highschool with a crush on my table neighbor holy fuck.
I need to get a grip.
She is a girl, you are a boy. You guys fuck. Stop over thinking it. She can't be your girlfriend, it's too dangerous.
I quickly shake my head of the dirty thought, not wanting to get a hard on while running just by thinking about that night with Blake. It's then that I decide to speed up my pace and leave this internal debate for another time.
In a quick decision, I decided to drown out my questions with music as I hastily pulled out my earbuds, connected them to my phone and shuffled a playlist titled "Blue".
The playlist I made for her, consisting of a few of my favorite songs from records she owns in her huge collection.
I know. I'm a sap that has a crush on a girl.
Sue me.
I'm sure multiple people have playlists dedicated to me because I'm just that elite.
The song Come On Eileen vibrates through my headphones making me hold in a laugh just imagining Blue dancing around to the upbeat song.
Before the playlist ends I glance up and realize the gym is just around the corner from where I am right now, causing me to sprint the last 100 feet to finally arrive at the entrance. I scurry through the door, the small chime of the bell letting everyone know of my arrival. Pulling my earbuds out and placing them back in my small bag, I retrieve my membership quickly handing it over to the lady at the front desk panting out a small "thank you". This made me realize how hard I went on my run. My shallow breaths make an effort to calm down my heart rate before I even have to get in the ring.
Time passed, I got my gear ready, I wrapped my hands and threw on some gloves today which I sometimes don't do.
I warmed up on the punching bag for a good fifteen minutes, doing simple combinations between my casual punching techniques.
X, my trainer, comes out from the locker room with his gear and pads on, indicating I should step into the ring and it's time to start.
"Get your ass in here, Styles, I ain't got all day." He yells from the middle of the ring looking bored.
"I pay you, remember?" I scoff with an eye roll. I don't necessarily hate X. I definitely respect him, just not his choice of friends.
"No you don't. Your daddy pays me. Now get your ass over here and start punching."
"Hmph." I grump like a child and walk over to him stepping inside the ring.
"Start with a jab cross then work your way into an uppercut combo." He demands with a thick deep voice and my muscles start flexing, ready to punch.
I get all my anger and aggression out on the pads in the ring. Every thought, every emotion, every piece of anxiety leaves my body as my eyes zone in on my target. Which today, happens to be the pad.
The past few days have been a bit strange. I've been going about my normal routine, but having this weird inclination that there are eyes watching me at all times.
I move into more complex combos of punches on the pad while X holds it. My feet move faster and quicker around the ring, moving my body to the best stance possible.
Boxing was not only a sport but an art. You have to be precise in every movement or you will lose every fight.
Good thing I don't lose or I'd be dead.
Jab, jab cross, uppercut, cross jab.
I stop my movements when I hear a loud groan from X, he drops his pads and rolls his eyes. His hands now on his hips.
"Fucking hurry up, you're going slower than usual,
dick." He huffs, annoyed with having to be here, like always.
"Fuck you, nobody likes you anyway." I shoot back, my eyes firm and my fingers clenched.
"Okay." He shrugs off like it was nothing more than a juvenile mean comment, "I don't care."
Oh-
We didn't talk much for the rest of training, I was worn out by the end of it. I step out of the ring quickly and towards the locker room to take a quick shower and freshen up.
I didn't spend much time in the shower, just a quick rinse off until I could use my quality one back at my apartment. With my hair dripping wet and the water droplets cascading down my forehead, I change into some clean clothes to hurry out of the gym.
I was so done for the day. I lowkey hate working out.
I step out of the gym, in clean clothes from my locker after my quick shower, I take out my phone to order a small uber.
It was close by, so I pack up all my gym material, stuffing it back into my locker and heading out the door to the gym. I push open the swinging doors and onto the sidewalk where my uber was already waiting.
"Hey man. Styles?" The guy asks from the front seat as I slide into the back.
"That's me." I agree, taking a deep breath out of exhaustion. I rest my head back against his seat.
"Where are we headed?" He asks, taking the car out of park as I buckled my seatbelt.
"Chargers Fight Club." I state heavily, my body being so tired already. My muscles are aching and my legs almost want to shake like they are spasming.
"We will be there in five." The man tells me. All I did in response was nod and let my head fall back on the seat, just wanting to silently close my eyes, but knowing I shouldn't.
All this drug cartel stuff makes you paranoid as fuck.
When I regained full consciousness, even with my eyes remaining open, we were at Chargers. I yawned a bit out of exhaustion and got out of the car, thanking the driver. I didn't need to pay directly, my card was linked to my account.
Walking through the familiar club doors, I head towards the back near Connor's office to pick up my paycheck for the last few weeks.
I step into his office to find nobody there, his chair spinning in a circle like he had just gotten out of it. I sigh to myself, now having to find my paycheck myself in his unorganized mess of papers.
I flip through the stacks on his desk till I find my envelope, addressed with my name. The envelope being thick and filled with more than a check which is unusual.
I spot a sticky note pad laying on his desk, and grabbing a pen to write him a note.
Picked up my check, thanks man. -H.
Then grabbing my shit and walking out of the club. I don't know if Blue was supposed to work tonight, but if she was, I would stop by and visit her. Hopefully, I'll get some entertainment out of our conversations like always.
She was everything I've ever wanted. She was kind and caring, she was strong and independent, but at the same time she depended on me in ways I never thought of before.
It wasn't as if her happiness was linked to me, rather that I just made it so much more spectacular, which I never felt I could as a child.
I wasn't raised to think that.
My mother tried to give me the life I always deserved but never once did the good outway the bad in my childhood.
The daunting figure that lorded over us was casting the darkest of shadows in what should've been such a happy life.
She was going to hate me once she found out about me and my lifestyle and I can't bear the thought of such a wonderful soul hating me.
I have almost made it back to my apartment when I start to jog again, about to finish the last half mile I had to walk.
I have worked out so much today it hurts.
I make my way up my apartment complex staircase, pulling my keys from my pocket as I get to my door. When I go to place the key in the key hole, I freeze instantly.
My fucking door is unlocked and cracked open.
"What the fuck?" I whisper under my breath with my eyebrows pinched together. My heart starts beating a little faster, my mind filtering through every possible person who could have access to my apartment.
I really need to fucking move into a bigger and more secure house. I have the money for it, I've been thinking about it for a while. This might just be the last straw.
I hesitantly push open my door, and cautiously step inside, internally cursing myself for not bringing my gun with me. My eyes scan around the room, looking for anything missing or a possible intruder, but nothing seems to be out of place.
I must have just missed them.
I make no noise with my steps, hoping to hear anything and everything.
I walk into my room, looking in every door and corner, prepared to fight. Nothing had made my heart pound any further until I stepped into my bathroom.
That was when my heart almost stopped.
There, written on the mirror in what seemed to be red lipstick was,
"Welcome to Wonderland."
A/N: well....shit.