ஜ Madison's P.O.V ஜ
I turned by head to look out the window, sun shining brightly as I poured myself some wheat cereal. That's all we ate, healthy food. I gets boring after a while. On special occasions, -Sundays after Church- My dad and I go to the ice cream place. We sit and talk about what we learned at Church, and laugh, chat about boxing, too.
I heard my dad practically scarfing down his breakfast behind me. I turned to face him, just as he swallowed a huge bite.
"Hungry, are you?" I asked, my British accent was very thick. We lived in Doncaster, England. The best place on earth.
"Well, I've got to meet my new trainee today. Gotta hurry." He replied, accent just as thick as mine.
"Yeah?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I was my dads manager. Sort of, I was actually a back-up for his real manager, Miller. Miler was a nice guy, dark, as dark as night hair. Piercing blue eyes that'd make a girl fall over, and pass out. Pearly white teeth, and the way he dressed was so adorable. He was not that much older than me. What sucks is that we could never try and date. And what sucks the most? He is actually gay. To be exact, he's twenty-six, Miller. The man was probably the best looking guy in Doncaster, so I thought.
"Yeah," he replied, shoving another spoon full of wheat cereal into his mouth. "Miller got em', Louis Tomlinson is the lads name. Supposedly real good, the lad lost one fight, and the manager wants him trained by me! Not like I'm complainin' puts money in my pocket!" He cooed, a large grin spread across his face.
I began to study my fathers face. Brown, short hair. Not to short though, he could spike it if he wanted too. But, that's make him look very weird. His smile was wide, stretched out across his face. He had a bit of a darker skin tone, but it matched him.
He then looked back down at his almost finished breakfast, just as I put the milk away and sat down. I began to eat.
"Say, ya comin' with me?" My father asked, stuffing the last spoonful into his mouth. His gaze locked on me, waiting for an answer.
"Of course! But, I gotta run some errands first, but ill be there when you guys begin to train." I said, nodding my head. His eyes lit up, before nodding to himself.
"Yeah, I oughtta be startin' maybe, four-thirty. Alright?" He asked, checking the clock in the stove. "Right now it's ten." He added, gaze turning back to me.
I nodded, again. "Yeah, yeah. I just have to buy a couple things from the store." I said, finishing up my bowl of cereal.
My father stood, and I just noticed he was already dressed in his boxing clothes. He picked up a bag full of things he needed to train, and said, "I'll be off, see you at four!"
"Thirty! Four thirty!" I replied as he walked out the door with a low chuckle. My father had left his bowl in the counter, thanks, dad. I picked it up, and set it into the sink. Then, I walked up the stairs to get ready.
ஜ Louis' P.O.V. ஜ
I swallowed hard, a lump my throat. Stupid manager. Stupid trainer. Stupid boxing. Stupid guy, why'd you have to beat me? That little..
My door bell rang. I had just realized I was sitting in my couch doing absolutely nothing. I should be getting into my boxing outfit. I stood, looking at the door.
"One moment!" I shouted loudly, walking into my room where I peeled my pajamas off and got into some shorts, and a t-shirt. I grabbed my sport bag, and opened the door. There stood Mark. My boxing trainer.
Wonderful.
"Hey, Im Mark, you must be Louis." He said. I nodded.
"Yeah, Im Louis." I said, holding back my glare.
