Through Hard Times. (Fantastic Foursome Fanfiction)

Odd Bar

Dedicated to Rose182!! First follower!! You awesome guuuuuurl!!

(I'm not sure how this site works yet, but I think it worked hitting the "Dedicate" Button, but thought I'd put it here, just in case!!!)

HOPE YOU LIKE IT

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“Melanie, I—” I held my hand up to silence him.

“No.” He stepped closer to me but I maneuvered around him and into the elevator.

“Please, Mel, ju—”

“Melanie.” I corrected. Only my friends can call me Mel. He doesn’t get that right. Not until he decides what he really wants. I pressed the button to take me to the lobby floor, but Daryl just got back in the elevator with me.

“Daryl, just leave. Please.” I said, trying to keep my voice cold and flat. He has to make the decision to get help. I cannot make it for him, no matter how much I really want to. The elevator doors closed and I swore under my breath.

“Just let me explain.” He begged. I shook my head,

“No, Daryl! There’s nothing left to explain. I know what happened; you don’t need to explain anything.”

“Then why won’t you take me back? I told you the truth, I was honest with you!” He yelled, running a hand through his hair.

“Honest with me?” I whispered, staring at the elevator doors, “After how long, Daryl?”

“I couldn’t stand being a disappointment to you…” He muttered, stepping in front of me,

“And what do you think you are to me now?” I spat, trying to keep my tears at bay. I looked him dead in the eyes, “If you would’ve been honest with me at the beginning, then we could’ve stopped all of this!” I waved my arms around me, “And regardless of the fact that you waited so long to tell me, after you did, you don’t even want to get help!” The doors opened and I shoved past him, shaking my head in disgust as tears slid down my cheeks. “I’ll be by later to get my stuff.” He just doesn’t get it. I stormed out of the building and started jogging down the street, trying to find the fight gym again.

I don’t plan on fighting, don’t worry, I just like sitting there. I don’t know why. Ever since I started going when I was 14, I’ve always been able to think best there.

I ran down the road for a couple minutes until I finally saw it. I shoved open the doors and went in, ignoring the front desk guy. He called something to me, probably insulting, but I just blocked him out and sat on a nearby bench, trying to collect my thoughts.

But, of course, I couldn’t. Coach walked up to me and sat down, giving me a small smile.

“Hey there, Mel,” He said. I finally took this time to actually look at him. He had short length black hair and swirling gray eyes that seemed to shine through you, look into your soul. He didn’t even look much older than me, maybe 28 or 29, although he was largely built. I wonder how he became a MMA coach.

“Hey, uh…” I prompted, trying to get his name,

“Alexio, but you can just call me Alex,” He held his hand out to me, I smiled and took it. At least he’s not a prick, like most of the guys here.

“Nice to me you.” I said politely, letting go of his hand. Alexio… “Is that Greek?”

“Yes. My mother was Greek and my father was British. I look like my mom, mostly, but I was raised here, thus the English accent.” He said with a perfect smile, “But how’ve you been?” He asked, looking away from me, surveying the gym.