**WARNING** This chapter contains drug use, violence, and mature language

💫ANGEL💫

"I'M SO CONFUSED, ANGEL." Lee spoke over the phone as she multitasked around her house. I could hear shuffling and banging of pots in the background.

"Confused about what?"

"I thought you left to become a new version of yourself."

"Did." I sighed, pausing my game.

"Seems like the only good that's coming out of it is that you're sober. Why haven't you started meeting new people, exploring the city, making new friends? You know, the normal things a twenty-year-old college student does?"

"I don't know. Just not feeling up to it. And I'm not sober. I still smoke. I just let go of alcohol and that other crap."

"I say you go knock on the purple-headed neighbor's door and ask her to show you around." Of course I made the mistake of oversharing about my day to day with her. And, of course, she was going to remind me why I regretted it.

"I say you mind your business and worry about yourself. What are you getting into this weekend?"

"Nope! Don't change the subject. Go talk to her."

"Lee, why don't you go talk to her? I'm good on that. I'm focusing on school right now."

"Please! A dude like you doesn't even need college. I mean unless you're going to be a doctor or something."

"I need school. I need this."

"You need to get laid."

"Lee." I laughed.

In the middle of our conversation, there was a gentle knock at my door. I hesitated a bit, unsure who could be on the other side. I didn't order any food and surely wasn't expecting anyone. Rummaging through my memory of the day, I tried to recall any moment that would bring someone to my door at this time of night. Before I could finish my thought, the same gentle knock sounded off like a muffled alarm whose purpose was to awaken me from my useless daydream.

"Shit. Someone's at my door. Call you back." I quickly hung up on Lee as I rushed to the door. Opening the door without asking who was there, I was bum rushed by the lavender-haired monster of a neighbor. "What the fuck?"

"Shhh." She slammed the door behind herself, pushing her back up against the door as if someone was going to come in behind her. Looking at her, she was frantic, afraid even. She breathed in so deeply, sucking in all of the fresh air in my apartment. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she smelled of gin, smoke, and bad decisions. I wanted to kick her out the moment she slammed the door, but she needed help. Even an ignorant jerk like myself could see that.

"What?" I finally asked.

"He's following me. I knew I shouldn't have talked to this freaking loser. He followed me home. Oh my gosh! That means now he'll always know where I live? He's going to kill me." Frantically panting, she melted to the floor, hair messy, makeup running, clothes ripped. She was in serious trouble.

"Slow down on the dramatics. What happened?"

"I was fooling around at these parties. They were like exclusive, invite-only type of parties. There were these guys that were kind of big time. I knew they were trouble, and I avoided them. But tonight, I talked to one. Everything was going fine until he started asking weird questions. So, I bailed. I stayed and partied with my friends for a bit. It wasn't until I decided to walk the two blocks home that I realized I wasn't on my path alone. He followed me home."

I heard the floor in front of my door creak. It always made a loud crunching sound when people passed by. We both grew silent as I watched the light in the crack at the bottom of the door go dark. He was standing in front of my door. We made eye contact, her and I, her face was curled up in the most hideous way. Wet. Stained. Smeared. I didn't want her there any longer than she needed to be.

"Move." I commanded, pulling her up from the door and pushing her to the side.

"No! Please." She whispered, grabbing at my hands so I wouldn't open the door.

"Don't touch me." I barked. I opened the door to find a medium built, short, blonde guy searching the halls, his ear up to the door in front of mine. When he realized I was standing there, he faced me with a mischievous grin. I didn't say a word, leaning on the door frame.

"Sup man."

I nodded.

"You seen a purple haired whore running through these halls?"

"Nope, just a blonde one." I smirked, shaking my head. I knew he was too slow to catch on.

"Nah. I'm not into blondes. She won't do me any good. I need that one with the purple hair."

"What's she to you, man?"

"Oh, so you do know her?" Now I had his attention, smiling his devilish smile as he motioned towards me. "She in there? You hitting that?"

"Back up, bro." I pushed him back into the door across from mine, giving us both some much needed distance. "Look, man. Whatever you have going on is not my business, but..."

"You right. It's not your business. So, tell the little bitch to come on out."

"She's an adult. You're an adult. Everyone is free to make their own choices. Whatever choice you choose tonight, right here at my door, will determine your tomorrow." I stepped out of my doorway and closed my door behind me.

"You wanna—" He stopped to laughed, lowering his head but looking up at me from beneath his brow. Typical. He was going to try to sneak a punch.

I was right, after about five more seconds, the dude launched out at me. I dodged his highly predictable right hook, countering with a right jab and left hook. He stumbled backwards and shook it off. Once I saw he wanted more, I flashed a pleasurable smile. The kind the devil flashes when he's conned his way into the mind of an innocent, convincing them to do their worst. Game on!

By the time I was done with this loser, there was a puddle of blood all over the floor, and an unrecognizable man on top of it. I spat in his direction, disgusted with the asshole who thought he was so entitled to the fruits of the world that he could have his way with any woman.

"Open the door." I shouted, knowing she was standing there by the shadow cast at the bottom opening.

"Oh my god." She gasped, peering behind me at the mess I made. "Holy—"

"Happy now? Not even a month into the place and I'll probably be in jail."

"I didn't know. I didn't mean for. I—"

"You should change your hair. Its drawing the wrong kind of attention." I brushed past her and made my way to the bathroom. Standing at the sink, I avoided my own reflection, staring down at my bloody knuckles. It was a sight I was too use to seeing. In fact, I'd taken the skin off my knuckles so many times, I was surprised they still bled.

"Do you have a first aid kit?"

I turned to look back at her. "You're still here?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"Does it look like I need your help?"

I was better off left alone. I didn't need a doctor or to be doctored on. I washed my knuckles off and wrapped them with scotch tape. She watched my every move with her judgmental stare.

"Seriously? Tape?"

"Works every time." I groaned, brushing past her and making my way to the couch. She followed.

"What's your name anyway."

"How often do you find yourself in a guy's apartment this long without even knowing their name?"

"What?" She hissed. "You know, you're rude."

"You're annoying. You, and that—" I looked up and wiggled my fingers on top of her head. "Hair."

She laughed, "You really hate it that much?"

"I think you'd look nice with regular hair."

"Whoever said I aimed to look nice?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure you weren't aiming to look ridiculous."

"You're mean. How'd you get like this anyway? Did some girl break your heart and you mended it with ice and thorns?"

"Relax." I huffed, turning the tv on to drown out her outlandish voice.

"What do you do for fun?" She flopped down next to me.

"Live."

"Honey, this ain't living."

"What do you know?"

"I know that you're depressed or just depressing. What makes you smile? What makes you laugh? Do you dance? Well, I know you don't drink. Do you smoke?"

"Yup. Everyday."

"Finally! I have weed." She began digging in her bag and pulled out a packet filled with candy.

"That's not weed." I laughed, noticing that she finally got my attention.

"Oh. This is so much better. Here." She handed me what looked like a gummy worm by placing it to my mouth.

I hesitated, looking at her suspiciously as she held it to my lips. Staring her in her eyes, I waited for her to say more. Instead, she smacked her teeth and inched closer to me, never taking her eyes from mine. So close that I could feel her minty breath sweep across my lips, she replaced her fingers with her teeth. Seductively taking in the other end of the worm into her mouth, Ms. Lavender winked and smiled, and I must admit, it did something to me. I figured she was ready for me to take the other end into mine. So, finally, I did. When we met in the middle, I bit off my side and turned my head.

"You're no fun." She laughed, folding her arms and pouting like a child.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Nineteen." She smiled, proudly. "My name is Vanessa. V for short."

"Angel."

"Not quite. I'm a bit on the bad side of things."

"No." I laughed. "My name."

"Ah! He has a name. And boy, it did not age well."

I laughed at her corny joke. But I'll be the first to admit there was nothing angelic about me. Not in my mind or my spirit or my heart. I was filled with darkness. I was hardly ever happy. There was no light in me most of the time. I wasn't always like this. Two years ago, I watched my soulmate give up on herself and the world. I watched the light deteriorate from her soul day after day until there was nothing left. And then. She jumped.

"Has it hit you yet?" V was sitting on the floor in front of me as I stared at the ceiling from the couch. We'd been sitting in silence for a good twenty minutes, because I refused to talk.

"Nope."

"Impossible." She snorted. "Maybe we just need to get your blood pumping. You got a speaker?"

"What?"

"Bluetooth speaker? Sound system? You know, twenty first century electronics?"

"Funny. Yeah. I've got one." I stood up and immediately got light-headed. Feeling like I was walking on clouds, I made it to my bedroom and sat on my bed. "Shit." I whispered to myself. V was right, it was starting to kick in. As I peered around the room, bursts of color began to swirl around me. I was mesmerized by the artificial feeling of joy that ran through my veins. It sent chills through my entire body.

"It kicked in!" I heard her sang from the doorway of my room.

"Speaker's over there." I pointed to the floating stand underneath the fifty inch I had mounted on my wall.

"It's rude to point, Angel. Didn't anyone ever tell you that."

"It's rude to mock, V. Strike two." I laughed.

"Oh, I have strikes?" She giggled. "Let's see. How many strikes until I'm out? And what is 'out', exactly?"

"Out means out of my damn apartment. And you get three."

"No fair." She pouted.

"Speaker." I snapped my fingers, reminding her of her mission.

Within minutes, she was blasting ridiculous mixes from Marshmallow. I knew she was no good. A typical, raving, party girl. That's all she was and all she would be. But I had to admit to myself, whatever mission she was on when it comes to me, she was throwing a little glitter on my monotony.

"Get up! Dance with me." She smiled, swaying her hips, and displaying a wide smile.

The colors in the room danced with the beat of the music. The hi-hats were yellow, the bass was dark blue, the strings were green, the horns were red. So many colors filled the room and before I knew it, I was enjoying her company.

"Oh my! Hell is about to freeze!" I heard her shout. "I have to capture this moment." Within seconds, she pulled out her phone and started recording. "Reporting live from the dungeon of sorrow! I just got Angel, Lucifer's long-lost cousin, to almost smile."

"Alright." I stood to my feet. "Strike three. Get out!" Rushing over to her, I placed both hands on V's shoulders, turning her towards my bedroom door so I could lead her out of my room and my apartment. She'd spent enough time torturing my gloomy "dungeon" with her vibrant energy. To be honest, it was the last thing I needed.

"Ooh, such strong hands. I like that in a man." She was mocking me, making a joke out of every move I made and word I spoke. I despised her. "Wait." She turned to face me. "Are you gay?"

"No."

"Aren't you attracted to me?"

"No."

"Ok, so then you're gay."

"No. I'm not gay."

"Prove it."

I stopped pushing her towards the door, stopping right in front of the couch. I imagined myself ripping her clothes off and bending her over the coffee table, showing her exactly how much of a man I was. But what did I have to prove?

***Author's Words****

You've just been introduced to Angel. What do you think of our leading male?

Yes, I know, he needs work. A lot of work lol. But that's the part I wanted to capture. Getting to know this mess of a man will be fun...tempting...I can't wait for you to read more.

GET READY TO MEET OUR LEADING LADY, GISELLE!!!!

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