I like have zero resistance against new plots and love me more #AJPunk with that said...

Happy reading and review if you like it :)


Mid July 2004

"…love you mum" she flew past her mother, her lips barely grazing the cheek before she was gone in a whirl of dark hair, fluttering fluffy white and a bouncy gym bag.

"Love you too sweet-"the rest of the sentence laid frozen on Sophia`s lips as she watched her youngest daughter slam the front door shut behind her not waiting to hear her mother`s replay. She shook her head, hair the same shade as April`s bouncing with the movement. The sewing machine she had was setup in front of a big window and she watched ,foot pressing on the paddle, as April crossed over the street to the other side; waving around to kids who were playing with an old ball before she rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

"She gone?" her eldest daughter came through the doorway that separated the kitchen from the small living room, an apple in hand and a magazine in the other. She nodded bunching the fabric together to sew, the shiny material was enticing under the direct sunlight, the green and purple meshed well together and she knew it will look more beautiful once Vanessa put it on for her graduation prom next week.

"Yeah, she barely hangs at home anymore. Always practicing and giving me a headache with the music she hears all the time"

"Leave her be Nessa, this is the only thing that is making your sister happy these days, with your brother gone in the army, your father working three jobs, this is her escape"

"What`s the point Ma? We`ll be out in the streets if we don't pay the mortgage payment next month, and we`ll have to move again. All I see is she is sitting herself up for heartbreak"

Sighing, her foot stilled and her shoulders slumped as if an invisible heavy weight was pressing on them and Sophia looked well into her sixties rather than late thirties.

"I am sorry Ma, I didn't mean to upset you. It`s just things are tense right now and once I graduate I will be able to find a full time job and help with things around here. I don't want the little brat sad that`s all" she wrapped her arms around her mother`s neck, pressing a firm kiss to her round caramel cheek, the same tone as April`s who was the spitting image of her mother while she and Chris took more after their father.

"I know sweetheart, and she loves you too. She was able to get some cash working at a local place, three blocks from here. Who do you think bought the fabric for your dress and those shoes?"

"April bought those?" chocked, she felt her eyes sting with something.

"Yeah. You see we are all here a team. You, April, me and your father"


The large steel door whined in protest as she pushed hard to close it, it sounded in serious need of oiling, but that was the least of her problems with this place. It was dank, humid and dusty. It echoed a lot since it was bare with little to no furniture. An old beat up coach that was pushed to the far wall, a chair with a broken leg laid upside down and an old steel table. That was it which suited her needs just fine.

This old warehouse has been her home away from home for the last five months, when she discovered it by chance and after asking around, the building was supposed to be torn down years and years ago but no one wanted the hassle. From outside it was littered with graffiti, some of them were silly while others were colored beautifully and drawn artistically. After a week of trying to clean it from the inside to a manageable degree, the floor that had piles of dust was spotless and now covered in old mismatched rugs and old stiff gym mats from her school. So now she had a really big open space to practice with no interruptions, no yelling about closing the school`s gym , where she could twirl and twirl to her heart`s content.

The steel table was big enough to set all her stuff on it. A mirror, a clear plastic bag with two halves of a sandwich, a large bottle of water, her jump rope and her small stereo. The bag could fit underneath where she put her regular clothes.

She gathered her hair, twisting the locks and securing them in place in a neat tight bun. She put her jacket atop of the open bag before taking the jump rope to begin her routine warm up. She did a 100 jump before doing some stretches and back flips trying to get her muscles to relax and warmed up for her practice. She pulled the jogging pants that threatened to swallow her, she pulled the fluffy white 3 layers of tulle over her legs and settled it high on her waist. Her small pearly trusty and worn pointe shoes were next as she twisted the satin wraps around her ankles before securing it. She walked laughing to where the small stereo was, she couldn't get over how ridiculous she must look trying to walk normally in a ballet shoes with feet pointing to different directions.

Soon the music filled the four walls of the warehouse and she lost herself in a haze of twirls, jumps, spins, splits and feelings like always. Ballet was her escape from the harsh reality she lived in, where she was the main actress, the story and the storyteller and this old condemned warehouse was here grand stage.


He scratched his hybrid locks, black roots and golden blonde long locks that lay in disarray over his forehead, around his ears ; the tips touching his shoulders. He looked at the address on the paper in his hand and around for a sign tha...ah there.

Now he was more confused than ever. It seemed like he was at the right address but the fuck?

Will this warehouse that looked ready to fall at any seconds was going to be the center for their house shows in Jersey? No this must be a prank that Colt was behind.

"Excuse-" he watched as a young woman who couldn't be more than 20 scurry around after she took one look at him. He knew he looked like a kid who was high on drugs among other suspicious materials. The tattoos on his arms and the lip ring and she probably thought he was in a gang or something.

Shrugging, he walked to the steel rusty door, noting it was ajar and seemed to leak some god awful classical music. He pushed with a little grunt as it gave away under his strength, the music becoming louder and louder and he really got the feeling that he wasn't alone in this creepy old warehouse.

It would make sense if it was a prank. Them insisting he go check it out, the music, and the feeling he was starting to get. Expecting Colt and the rest of ROH crew to jump and surprise him he walked further into the room only to find something he didn't think he would stumble upon in his stay in Jersey... or ever.

A butterfly. And as cheesy as that sounded he couldn't find another word to describe it..her.. it. She really did look like a butterfly going from flower to flower barely touching the petals as this girl`s feet barely grazed the ground; her legs twisted, turned, her body moving seamlessly in the open area like that butterfly flying freely in an open field.

She couldn't be more than fifteen with how small she looked, but again appearances were deceiving if he learned anything while on the road. Small tendrils escaped that mean tight bun framing her face and sticking to her sweaty neck, that suggested she was doing this for a while now. Her hands were flowing with much ease as the rest of her body screaming hard work and years of perfecting the moves, her face was set in concentration barely paying attention to the surroundings around her. With the type of neighborhood this was and the danger that loomed the poorer sections of the city, it was dangerous to be out on your own after dark, especially a young beautiful woman such as this one.

Why in the hell was he feeling this protective over a complete stranger?

Deciding he had enough, he walked to the where the music was playing hitting the stop button and turned around to face her.

She was in mid twirl when the melodic tunes halted and she turned, probably the old device had finally had enough and decided to die on her mid practice. She jumped, eyes wide as she saw a 6 ft something man with tattoos covering his arms was looking at her bemused by her reaction.

"Who are you?"

"Good question. Who are you?"

Dread filled her and she felt her stomach drop. Was he here to hurt her? rape her? kill her? or all of the above.

"Relax doll face if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so a long time ago" he saw the fear fill her haz.. no dark brown eyes as he got closer to her and she matched him stepping back and away from him.

"So what are you a ballerina or something?" the music, the moves and the outfit all suggested that.

"What do you want? what are you doing here?"

"I was told this is an old abandoned warehouse not a ballet studio" he knew it wasn't one, no matter how poor the neighborhood was they could certainly afford to make it more suitable.

"It isn't, I just practice here. Are you an inspector with the city council?"

He motioned to himself "Sweetheart do I look like I work in the city`s council?" she probably deemed him harmless as she moved around, putting her jacket on, slipping her ballet shoes and taking large sips of water.

"Then what are you doing here?" breathless she wiped her sweaty forehead, thankful her cheeks were already flushed and the blush of having him watch her with those olive green orbs would be passed from hours of dancing.

"The city had let us borrow this place as a temporary place of business while we are in town"

"What sort of business?"

"What is this 20 questions?" this kid certainly got balls and gut "Wrestling"

"So what are you the water boy? you fetch them towels and run errands?"

He felt his temper rise, and his fist clenching "Actually I wrestle. Pretty good too" he said through clenched teeth. Why did he feel the need to prove his worth to her?

"OK, whatever helps you sleep at night. So how long you`ll be in town?" she started throwing her stuff in her bag, slipping her jeans under the skirt, her chucks following. She shouldered her bag, going to unplug the stereo. Her mum was bound to worry anyway.

"Hard to say. Sorry to put you out"

"Oh don't worry I am sure we can work something out. There is big enough room for a bunch of angry men and a poor struggling ballerina. Maybe I can open shows for you."

"What do you know about wrestling anyways?" the answer she was going to give reminded her of her brother who used to sit hours with her telling her all he knew about wrestling.

"I know a lot more than you think, champ" she passed him, noting how tall he was and how much bulkier this close up.

"So I guess we`ll be seeing you around then" She turned around, giving the nameless stranger a small smile.

"Maybe."


Thoughts?