The Boxer And The Ballerina

2. "Is This Right Hook?"

2. "Is This Right Hook?"  - Each chapter title will be a quote within the chapter!

It wasn't about being happy or un happy. She just didn't want to be her anymore. And him... He just wanted to know what was missing?

tonight, they'd each get a taste of what they were looking for.

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|Alex's Pov|

"Mom? Dad?" I say as I walk into our house.

"Mr. Alex, welcome home! your mother has instructed me to make you dinner. what would you like?" Belinda, our maid asks as soon as I step inside.

"It's fine Belinda. where is my mother?" I ask. "She's at the country club, along with your father. they'll be home late- their having a council meeting. tonight." Belinda says. I drop my duffle at the door, "How was.. Ballet." She smiles, picking up my duffle bag. I roll my eyes, 'You're not funny!" I smile, going for the steps.

"Would you like this stuff washed?" Belinda asks

"Yes." I say louder as I walk up my familiar stair case.

Everything felt so different, even though it's not. I was just here yesterday- but that was only for a second. now, I was finally 'MOVING BACK IN'

Our family portraits still lined the walls of the upstairs hallway, the carpet on the ground was still a bright red, and gold chandeliers with crystals hanging from them were strategically placed along the ceiling.

I came across my closed bedroom door. I remember the day I left, I closed it. Had it been closed this whole time? I was furious that night, telling everyone to 'stay the fuck out of my room." - Did they listen to me?

I walked in. . .

things were exactly how I left them, my bed was unmade, a balled up piece of paper still laid beside my trashcan, and my computer desk seemed to be collecting dust.

I walked over to it- swiping my hand across the dark wood and throwing the dust out into the air. I pulled out the blue computer chair that was tucked  underneath the desk, plopping in much like I use to when I came home from school.

I'd sit her, I'd do some homework, I crumble up some papers and work on my free throw, trying to aim for the trash can that was across the room.

Though nothing changed in here.. It felt off.

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|Steph's Pov|

People think my calf muscles are so strong because I'm a dancer, when really- it's because I speed walk, home. every night.

I get so scared out here despite the fact that this is where i'v lived for a good 2 years now.

This is what people at my school would call, "The Bad Side Of Town." - "The Hood" - "The Ghetto"

And indeed it was.

It was never hard to point out the prostitutes who stood on the side of the streets, or maybe they leaned up against buildings with their arms crossed and a foot kicked up. As I walked across the street from them, cars would stop. they'd get in. and they'd be off.

it reminded me of my mom.

she wasn't a prostitute.

but it's what I imagine she did, the day she - ah- the day she left.