4 | Rise Up

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So sorry for the super lengthy chapter and that you all had to wait so long for it. I literally have zero-five internet (no joke). It's also why I haven't replied to literally any comments for the past several days.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one!

♬ ✥*

Serenity.

"So, you got thrown out of the building?" My best friend popped her head up as she organised clothes hanging on the rack.

Amara owned a small vintage clothing shop down the street from where she lived. It was still in the same neighbourhood. She claimed that she could never leave this place because she loved it so much. I honestly didn't blame her. We resided in a beautiful location, which was also an incredibly relaxing area in the city.

She and I met in preschool, and since then, we've practically been inseparable. That was up until I moved to Calgary for dance school. I'd visit whenever I got the chance, and she did the same for me. I'd graduated a year earlier, but when it came for Mars to go to university, her dreams disappeared for a while, and she took a year off. Amara was the one who created and sewn many of my dance outfits and leotards. It was a passion that she carried and I reminded her of how much she loved fashion and keeping up trends. After that, she went to a great design university in the city.

When she graduated, she bought the shop that she worked at for several years as a part-time cashier. The woman that owned the place was getting older and planned on selling it eventually, so Amara wanted to jump at the opportunity — and she did.

We both had a passion for something, and it was a beautiful thing. She and I were always there for each other. We squealed when we found out when we had our firsts — our kisses, dates, heartbreaks, first-times, and so much more. I also had to stop her on several occasions when I was bullied growing up. She was the popular girl in high school out of the two of us, but she couldn't care less about cliques or any type of hierarchy systems that went on.

She was truly the best friend that anyone could ask for.

"Pretty much, yeah," I said whilst wrapping an olive-toned scarf around a mannequin. The colour reminded me of a certain man's eyes.

A man who I needed an investment from.

"You know, all I can picture is when Uncle Phil throws Jazz's ass out on the front lawn." She giggled, and it only made me laugh.

"You love that show." I shook my head, bringing the tip of my tongue to the corner of my lips in amusement.

"Who doesn't?"

"Touché." I pointed at her in agreement. She was just about to burst into rapping the theme song when we got interrupted by a sound.

"Hi, welcome to Ever-Mode. I'm Amara, let me know if you need any help," she called out to a customer who'd just walked through the doors, the chime rang letting her know. She then went to fold a cardigan on the table ahead of her. "So what's your plan now?"

"Um..." I trailed off, biting my bottom lip with a sly smile. "...sneak into the building."

My friend kept her laugh at a minimum, in attempt to contain her amusement. "You're willing to risk that? What if this time he gets the cops involved?"

"Yes and I don't think so," I answered, fiddling my fingers together as I leaned against a clothing rack. "I mean, Mr Styles doesn't seem like he's that cruel. Sure, he's Mr CEO, but I don't think he'd risk anyone knowing that he threw a girl out for trespassing." 

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