" They're words. They mean whatever you interpret."
Elara Valenti, a seventeen year old girl just trying to get by. Well, get by killing, fighting, arrests and abuse.
Elara was taken at the mere age of two from her family, the Valenti's.
Or, the It...
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Elara. A cheerful, happy individual. That's what my name means. Ironic, isn't it? I mean, what cheerful, happy individual would be abused, street race, underground fight and look for trouble?
I walked into the bar which is a disguise for the fighting ring down below. Also a place for fighters to get drinks.
"ID?" A man asked, looking at me like I didn't belong here. I smirked, grabbing my Viper ID and flashing it to him. His eyes widened as he nodded. "Please enter," he said, his voice a bit more high pitched this time.
I smirked and walked through the door that led to the fighting below. The smell of blood, sweat and alcohol filled my senses. I love that smell. I inflict that smell.
Noah is supposed to meet me here. He'll warm me up for my fight tonight. I walked to the back rooms which one of them I owned for getting changed, wrapping my hands and everything in between.
I grabbed my keys for the room and unlocked it, locking it behind me. Noah was sitting on the couch and got up as he saw me. "Hey Viper," he said, sauntering over to me and wrapping his large arms around my upper body.
Usually, I don't like people touching me, but Noah makes me feel safe. I love his hugs. I relaxed into his embrace and wrapped my arms around his torso, my head resting on his upper chest. I inhaled the scent of his cologne. "Hey Striker," I mumbled into his chest.
Viper is my fighting name. Striker is his.
After a minute, we pulled out of the hug. He rested his hands on my shoulders, looking me over. "They only got a couple hits on me," I mumbled, referring to Scarlett and Jason.
Noah had a small, sad smile. "Are you ready to fight?" He asked.
"Yep, let me just change and cover some things up," I said. This morning I didn't have time to cover my bruises so now was the time.
I walked to the back of the room and took off my sweatpants, my leggings underneath. Then I took off my sweatshirt, sports bra underneath. When I turned around, I saw Noah staring at my ribs specifically. "What?" I asked.
"Your ribs..." he said quietly, his features now soft. I looked in the mirror in front of me. Something I hate doing. But I did anyway. My ribs were a mural of black, purple, green and blue.
"It's fine," I said, switching my emotions off. I grabbed my makeup and began covering the faint strangle marks on my neck. Then I did my ribs and other visible bruises and scars as well. I kept my Viper tattoo uncovered though.
"Let's go warm up," Noah said, grabbing the hand wraps and any other necessary things. I nodded and followed him out of the room, locking it behind me after I pulled up my mask so I was unrecognizable.
We walked to the little gym area where people were sparing, punching on the punching bags or stretching and warming up. I followed suit and started stretching.
