WildMoore One-Shots

I just want you to look at me (and see that I can be worth your love)

She's what people call a perfectionist.

If it isn't perfect she doesn't like it, which is strange since her whole life isn't perfect.

She doesn't have the perfect friends. She, for sure, doesn't have the perfect family.

Her whole life is the definition of a dump.

So why is she obsessed with perfection?

Maybe it's the word, it sounds too good. When she hears perfect, she immediately smiles because it means good.

It means someone did something right.

just perfect.

•

"Go again!"

Sophie grimaced, her hand cramping, as she kept her fingers placed on the exact spot for the last two hours. A hand on the left side of the ball, and the other underneath it, her wrist and arms ached from the countless she had sent it out for a shot.

"Again!" Her father shouts when she misses again.

He threw the ball toward her chest, and she caught it with a wince, he was getting more frustrated than her. Sophie shook her head, "Daddy, my hand hurts."

Her father laughed at the sight of her misty eyes and quivering lips, he looked at her like his player, not his daughter, "Honestly, I don't care if your ass hurt, Sophie, we will continue to shoot until you make a perfect twenty in a row."

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

If they weren't perfect.

They weren't good enough.

•

What is so amusing about being in the hood?

It's not amazing.

It's not funny to see dopeheads running down their street or hearing police sirens and gunshots every night before bed.

It's tiring but sometimes it is what they have to do to survive.

Other people do it because it's fun to dress up and play pretend, and it gives them a rush they never had.

She drilled the ball down the court, rushing towards the side of the net, practicing her layup. Last game she played, she had missed three of them, she wasn't supposed to miss any of them. Although the other team was down 15 points, in her head those mistakes could've lost them the game.

"Girl, I said that shit in the morning, leave that alone."

Sophie looked up to see a boy and a girl walking into the court, hitting each other, while they argued.

"I ain't 'bout to leave nothing alone, and don't call me no damn girl."

The Jets.

Sophie shook her head, they were always arguing about something. A stranger would believe they were enemies, and not siblings, with the way they talked to each other.

She tilted her head towards them, specifically the boy. Marquis was the prime example of someone doing it when they didn't have to.

He wants to be a gangster because what? daddy issues? It's the most stupid but the most used reason. He didn't have someone to show him how to be a man, to teach him the rights and wrongs.

His dad was an old white man who didn't like to come to the ghetto. Franklin was a shitty example of a father, but he was there.

He tried kind of.