Trapezoid (The Base)

Chapter 1

Okay, this is the first thing I've ever posted here on wattpad, so there's no reason to stone me! Hahaha!

It was seven o'clock -the usual time for Levi Steven's evening walk. It was a nice summer Friday. The gentle breeze blew his dark brown hair. Families were eating out and some were having a movie night. It looked like everyone was so happy and care-free. If they only knew what went on oceans away. But then again, they did. Men lost their lives so they could live like this. For their peace and safety, others got chaos, danger, injury, and maybe even death.

He knew this all too well. He was a soldier. The reason he was sent back home was because of an injury by a sniper helicopter. This had been his second time. The first one around gave him the name Sniper-and so had his skill. He'd lost his buddy, Chris, a few moments after the second. Ever since then, coming back to normal life, he'd seen how much people cared about the men who lost their lives-nothing.

Life on the front-lines was hard and filled with horror and lose-but why did he miss it? Somehow on the field, he felt he was paying back for Chris death. But here it haunted him, knowing he was partly responsible for it. He felt a fire of rage that never cooled. He kept it locked in, but he needed to get it out. He had just come out of rehabilitation, but it looked like it hadn't worked.

Even by that, the service was indirectly saying he was being released from duty. And how the heck did they think he was going to be able to live normally? Fighting was like the air he breathed now. He liked it. His body was always kept in incredible shape, and he was still too young to retire at the age of twenty-five. It all did not make any sense.

A man in black bumped into him from behind. He seemed jittery and nervous. His eyes flashed, as if startled, when he met Levi's hard deep blue eyes. "Are you okay sir?"

"Yes," he stuttered. Levi noticed the man's hand was under his black leather jacket. Black figure against the white shirt had accidentally peeped out. He entered the Fifty's dinner followed by three other guys. Something was wrong. Dangerously wrong.

.....................................................

This was the weekend rush. The place was buzzing with the sound of patrons and music from the '50s. Lisa poured yet another cup of coffee for the same over-stressed student. And why on earth did the waitresses have to wear heels? "Hey, Circus Lady!" an impatient person called from a corner table.

Circus Lady-the name given to her on account of her history with the circus as an acrobat. Travelling all over with the circus had been fun, but once they'd bumped into this town, she had chosen to settle. After all, she'd been with them for over eight years and it was getting a bit stressful. So after her twenty-first birthday, she wanted a change-and she got this. She loved it. But at times she wanted more than just days that seemed to roll into each other. Maybe she'd look for a different job-but for now she was needed right here.

Four men entered. They didn't head for a table. Understandably so. The place was jammed. She'd help them out, but first she need to deliver these orders to the kitchen.

She sighed. This was the place with a bit of peace-just cooks, the sound of cooking and the smell of fast food and no customer noises and Elvis Presley's voice. "Orders are ready Miss Troy," Jay said, a teenager with braces just having a job to save up for a motorcycle.

She smiled and sighed, "Thank you."

He shook his head. "Poor Cinderella."

She snorted, placing four plates on both her arms, "I have dark hair and eyes for crying out loud!"