Who knew bad boys did ballet...?

~Chapter One 'Happy Birthday?!' ~

"Mum?" I asked walking down the stairs to our humble home. My mum wasn't home often and when she was it was a mess. Dealing with her was a mess. "Mother...?" Maybe I'm hearing things, maybe I'm just t- I was pulled from my thoughts by a hollow laugh. It made me want to recoil and smack her at the same time. It was the kind of laugh that demanded authority but also proved just how much she loathed the person it was aimed at. I froze in my steps. She was standing there, with my phone, reading my messages.

"Darling, who is this 'Ryan' boy?" She asked, using a sickeningly sweet voice. I cringed inwardly, asking myself why she was being so nice and why she had my phone in the first place. I walked fully into the 'cozy' living room and looked at who was sitting next to her. The breath caught in my throat and I could feel tears prick my eyes. So many thoughts raced my mind why is he here? What is he doing? Why would she bring him here?

"D-Dad?" I managed to get out. I sounded pathetic. Like a broken little girl. Like the broken little girl he left me to be. His face snapped up to me and he smirked. I felt sick to my stomach. Get yourself together, he left. You're stronger now. You're allowed  to be happy now. "James." I stated. His smirk dropped for a minute before it was replaced by a full blown smile. At this moment I was entirely too close to puking. He got off the couch and walked towards me. He stopped when there was a foot in between us.

"Carson" he started. His eyes held an emotion I could only describe as pity. He pitied me. He should. That bastard left me with the wretched woman I had to call my biological mother. He left us so that he could start another family with a woman who was roughly 8 years older than me. That was a year ago. I haven't spoken to him since but I had actually missed him. He was my dad, I spent 15 years with the man. "Look at you. You're so much bigger then you used to be..." He trailed off. Guilt flashed in his eyes before he could mask it.

"Before you left. Yeah. People tend to change after a while." I finished for him, circling him like a vulture. I was glaring at him. He looked at me like I was fragile. I wasn't fragile. "Why are you back here? Did the bimbo finally see that you were nothing more then an overgrown baby? Are you just visiting? How many kids do yo-" I was cut off by my 'mother'. Great.

"Who's Ryan?" She snapped. Jumping to James' defense. She was by his side in a no time at all, smiling sweetly, like an angel. I had to fight to not roll my eyes. Why don't you just check, you're the one with my phone. "That's not a bad idea. Who knew you were good for something" she sent me quick smirk over her shoulder as she sauntered to the couch, obviously swaying her hips for attention whore her head snapped up to me and my eyes widened shit. Fuck. Damn. She sent me a hard glare "watch your fucking mouth you ungrateful brat. You will not cuss in my house" she lectured. I was pissed now.

"This stopped being your house when you stopped coming home for weeks at a time, this stopped being your house when you came home and verbally abused me, this stopped being your goddamn house the second you laid a fucking finger on me. I pay the bills here. You drink. You're gone, I go grocery shopping. When was the last time you stepped into this hellhole before James got here? Hmm? What's that Lydia? An entire fucking month ago. I provide everything for this fucking house. Don't try to act like a 'decent parent' just because he's here." I shouted at my mother. I could feel the tears roll off my cheeks from my frustration.

I crossed my arms and shut my eyes in a measly attempt to calm down. I looked up and counted to three 1...2...3... I looked down and counted again 4...5...6... I straightened my head and finished counting 7...8...9... Exhaling the 10 I opened my eyes again only to see a hand rushing to my face. Before I knew what had happened she was beneath me muttering apologies as I punched her. An entire fucking year. This sort of thing had been happening since he left. He needs to come home. Don't get me wrong. Our relationship was bittersweet. Meaning I chose to tolerate him but I would never look at him, Much less converse with him, while he continued to look at me like a stranger. All this time I had not raised a hand to my mother. I am not a violent person, even if I acted otherwise. I had my guard up at all times, I was a bitch. An entire year of her hitting me, spitting on me, throwing curses at me. "Carson" I heard a faint voice yell. I kept punching. I was so angry. So upset. "Carson!" The voice yelled again. A little louder this time, I continued to ignore it. "CARSON" it was clear this time. I looked up at my 'father', he looked terrified. I let go of my mothers hair and got up from the ground where I had pinned her. Her face was a bloody mess. I guess now would be as good a time as any to describe what this sad excuse for a mother looked like.

She was fairly tall for a woman, she was 5'9 with beach blonde hair and thin, sharp features. She had a slim face and high cheekbones, a button nose was placed in the center, you know, the type of nose every girl wants. The nose of the girls from The Fosters. Callie I think her name was, almond shaped eyes with bright, fierce blue orbs were next on the 'what you need to be a model' she had impossibly long eyelashes, the kind you'd probably only achieve by wearing falsies. The only thing lacking in the beauty department for her were her lips. They were pencil thin but that was nothing that a little over lining couldn't fix. She was actually a model. And a really shitty mother. A now bleeding, unconscious mother.

I suppose you'd want to know what James looks like, right? Okay. He also had blue eyes but his were more pale. His face was a little more full for a guy but not enough to make him look like Pete Wentz. He had plump lips and a strong jawline. He had a little bit of stubble. Not enough to make him have a beard but more then a five o'clock shadow. He has puppy dog eyes 24/7 so it's no wonder he was used to getting what he wanted. He liked to tell stories about his Highschool years. How he ran the town and so on and so forth.

I wiped the blood from my lip. Even if I wasn't completely aware of what was happening I still could feel the warm liquid trickling slowly down my lip and the metallic taste in my mouth. "Don't fucking call me that" I said cool as I looked at James "my name is Emily" Before you guys get confused, no I'm not trans, I didn't used to be a boy, that's my middle name. Emily Carson Peters. My dad always used to call me by my middle name, rather than my first. Even if it wasn't my real name. It was a boy name. I guess he wanted a son. Oops I think sarcastically I wanted a functioning family and look at what I got, i looked at Lydia then back at James looks like we're both ass out of luck I shrugged and walked to the bathroom.

When I got back my mom was sitting in the couch with an ice pack stuck to her face. She glared at me and grabbed her phone shit. She then proceeded to call the police fantastic. They were here 15 minutes after she hung up and grabbed all three of us. Yeah. Happy birthday Em. I laughed bitterly. Great.

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And that's Chapter one. I'm really sorry about what happened with the other book. At the time I had started it everything was fine and then a bunch of things happened that I'd rather not talk about. But I'm back now and I'm writing again. Which is something I haven't done in like over a year. I've missed this. I'm sorry again. <3