𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 (𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐨𝐜)

>an old friend<

By the end of the week, I was done with everything and everyone. I didn't want to be on set anymore now that David and I are love interests. I didn't want to be home either because he was there also, some of the time with Elle doing God knows what. I didn't even bother to ask.
I needed to get out and clear my head for a bit. Life was chaotic at the moment and I just needed some personal time. I packed up my dance bag, called studios to see if they would let me come in, and when I found one, I left. I walked out of my room and almost made it to the front door when David stopped me.
"Going somewhere?"

"Yes, somewhere away from you actually, but why do you care?"

"I was just wondering. You don't need to make a big deal out of it Brooke!"

"Right, like you didn't need to play with my feelings, but you did so anyways!!"

"Well, if you actually listened to me for once you would know I have apologized over and over again to you."

I didn't say anything and quite honestly, I didn't think I had to. Looking at him made me sick. I hate players and he knows that. Yet, he still plays me anyway. Boys suck.
I rolled my eyes and walked out. End of conversation. I slammed the door behind me, not caring who heard me do so. I walked out to Mrs. Moscow's car. She said I could use it whenever I needed. I hopped in and drove off to the studio.

woah, a time jump, no way! who's shocked? lol anyways this is after she's done dancing.

I called it a day after about 3 hours. Okay, I'll admit it, I have bad tendencies to dance until my body collapses. It's not good for me, but would you rather me overdose on crack? I didn't think so.
I walked out to the car and unlocked it. Before I go in, I noticed a note tucked into the windshield. I grabbed it and unfolded it. It read:

You are quite the dancer. It was amazing to watch you. The elegance and grace you have is immaculate. I hope to see you dance again soon.
An Old Friend.

"An old friend," who in the world wrote this. I looked around to see if anyone was looking at me, but the parking lot was empty. Looking back at the note I noticed something peculiar, the hand writing was slanted and messy. How was I even able to read it in the first place?
Than it hit me. I looked around again to see if anyone was watching me. Still no one. I got into the car and locked the doors. My heart was racing and I was panicking. There is no way he's back. He can't be, right? He was locked up when I was 7.
There was no way my father was back.