He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses.
When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets...
a/n: basically. the sad isn't over. sorry?? I actually cried writing this...
but it needed to be done, please don't kill me.
i love you all
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10 years ago age 11 in the house on the street
I was dirty. I had just come home from school and I hated learning anything educational. I was only in the sixth grade, but I was failing almost everything but my electives.
School wasn't my strong suit, I was more artistical. I was a tall, lanky boy with curly brown hair and glasses. The nerd facade wasn't proving anything based on my grades, I wasn't naturally school smart, nor did I care.
I was just trying to make it through my hell of a life.
"Harry dear, come down for dinner please." My sweet mother called from her place behind the sall, nasty kitchen stove. Nothing in this house was nice. It was stingy and gross, a place I could never call home. I found my home in people.
"Yes, Mother." And I walked down the steps as silently as possible, trying not to make much noise and upset my father.
The kitchen smelled as flavorful as possible when all we had were canned tomatoes and some half frozen vegetables because the freezer broke earlier today and most of the food was spoiled. My body was in the kitchen at no time, the last thing I ate was the one serving school cafeteria food for breakfast and lunch. Thank God it was a weekday, or I would've gone hungry on the weekends.
"We have some tomatoes and veggies again, baby. Can you get out the bowls? Be careful, some of the edges are chipped." My mother asked me, the bowls were chipped because they were older and cheaper than me. My father doesn't take care of the things around the house.
"Yes ma'am." I respond quietly, the bags under my eyes larger than normal as I haven't slept in a couple days and the showers get shorter and shorter due to the hefty water bill we were facing.
I step up on the tips of my toes trying to reach the bowls, successfully grabbing them gently and setting them down lightly on the counter by the simmering pot of mush.
I was thankful though, my mom went to work everyday to support us the best she could. She made sure I had food on my plate as best as she could. If I had to skip a couple meals to save her a few dollars, then I would gladly do so.
I placed the reusable forks next to the stack of bowls by my mother, indicating that I was done and was waiting to do something else that could help.
She looks at me with a soft and tired smile, the bags under her eyes matching mine. "Harry dear, could you go get your sister for me? I'll try and get your father."
