Miranda's POV
My phone buzzes and catches my attention I see who texted me; Justin.
*texts*
J- Hey lets hang?
Me- Yeah I actually need to talk to you about something
J- Oh damn sounds serious. Everything alright?
Me- Yeah everything's fine I just need to talk.
J- I'll be over in a few.
I toss my phone across the couch and continue watching American Horror Story. I pause the show to get something to eat, as I'm walking to the fridge there's a knock at my door.
I look threw the peep hole and see its Justin and I open the door. He smiles putting his hands around my waist pulling me closer.
"Hey beautiful." He says kissing my forehead.
"Hi." I pull away from his grasp. He walks in and takes a seat on the couch.
"So what'd you want to talk about?"
"I feel like you're not telling me something." I say quietly staring at the bruise he has on his leg.
"Why do you think I'm hiding something from you?" He chuckles.
"Well I went to 'your place' yesterday and you weren't there because it's not your place." I say as I crack my fingers.
"Ohh that..." Justin says running his hands through his hair.
"Tell me why you lied." I say bluntly.
"It's complicated okay..."
"I don't care I deserve to know." I snap.
"My name isn't actually Justin Braxton it's Gale Constantine and I'm not from Ohio I've lived in California my whole life in the foster care system."
"Why would you lie to me about that?" I ask sitting next to him.
"I just thought you wouldn't want to talk to me if you knew I wasn't like the rest..." Gale says pinching his arm.
"You really thought I would care about something like that? I like you for you, I don't care if you come from a wealthy family or not." I take his hand and hold it in my little ones.
"That night I met you at that party I wanted to impress you and I just automatically thought you were a rich girl from Beverly Hills or something.."
"Far from it, I'm from a small town in New Jersey I used to live with my alcoholic mother and my whore of a sister, I met Grayson my life changed he helped me find my dad. I wanted to know who he was and well now I live with him, he moved us out to LA. I don't have the perfect life either." I look at our intertwined hands. I lean in and give him a peck, "you for you." I remind him.
-Miranda
