I'm carrying Tamsin up the stairs and I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck I was doing here. Why do I fucking care what she does with her life? Tamsin was becoming a pain in the ass. I see the way she looks at me and trust me; it doesn't bug me for a second what the hell she thinks in that crazy little head of hers.

But what the hell was I doing here?

I'm pissed. I'm pissed at her and I'm pissed at myself. This girl didn't drink, and she took in alcohol like water. Now, she was drunk.

Did I mention I'm pissed off?

I'm grumbling my frustration while I put her to bed. I dropped her down on the bed before I realized that I might have to tuck her in. Lifting her up while I moved the comforter around her. When I was able to cover her body, I straightened.

"Stop being so grumpy," she slurred.

I couldn't resist rolling my goddamn eyes.

"You're an idiot."

That got me a good shove in the stomach, but it did little other than push her back onto the bed. Then she covered her face with her hands and I heard sniffling! Sniffling! Oh my fucking god. I rubbed a hand over my face in frustration. I should just leave her in her misery.

"I hate you," she grumbled.

"No, you don't."

"Yeah? How would you know?"

"You don't hate me, because you consider me as a friend." I reminded her.

Her brown eyes fluttered open. She gazed at me with drunken, unshed, tear-glistening eyes. Her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and bow-shaped lips puckered.

Tamsin is a beautiful girl. Although nothing about her strikes as unique, she is a beautiful girl. When I look at her, I get pulled into those wide-eyed brown eyes. Those wide eyes look innocent, but they look upon me with judgement. Maybe that's why I knew her in the past, but never really know her. I hated the look in her eyes.

Tamsin interrupted my thoughts when her hand reached out to take hold of mine. She linked her arms through mine and yanked me down onto the bed. I fell on it awkwardly. Half of my body off the bed and the other half on the bed.

I looked and saw her looking back at me. A small smile appeared on her face. With her free hand, she slapped my face. I placed a hand over her hand to stop her from beating me up.

"So cute." I frowned immediately.

"Cute?" I grumbled.

Her smile widened, and she scooted closer to me. Our nose would brush against each other if she moved another two inches.

"You, Kai McGrath, are not cute." I nodded my head in agreement. I am not cute.

"You are hot, like not just hot hot. You are dangerously hot." I raised an eyebrow. Her hand was still on my face, but her fingers were free to move. She rubbed her thumb on my lower lip and ran her finger over my brow.

A second later, she slapped her fingers over my lips.

"Shhhhh...don't tell him I said that. He can be an egotistical jerk." Then she giggled and flopped back down on the bed. "But he is dreamy..."

Her expression changed to one of horrification and she covered her face with her hands again.

"Oh god, what am I saying?"

I shook my head. This girl should never drink. She was even more indecisive than when she was sober.

"I like Dean, not him."

Dean.

Even the name sounds like a dumbass. I don't know why she likes him, but then again, I guess I could see why she likes him. He was a good boy. Someone anybody could see would have a successful future. Dean was like Tamsin. They both were perfect.

I glanced down at Tamsin and noticed she had fallen asleep. My eyes trailed over her facial features. There was just something about her that reminds me of those little dolls in the store aisles. It could be the bow-shaped lips, or the big doe-y eyes. I am not entirely sure.

Without thinking, my hand shot forward, and I cradled one side of her face. My thumb brushed up against her cheek. They were red and rosy, and her eyes were bloodshot from all the alcohol she took so fast.

Then my eyes stopped at her lips.

I kissed this girl. What the hell was I thinking?

When I saw her in Dean's arms on the dance floor, a sense of irritation fell over me. An unsettling feeling burned deep within the pits of my stomach. Every inch of my body wanted to punch that look off Dean's face.

When I saw how content Tamsin looked, I felt... I don't know what I felt. So, I stood by and watched like an idiot. Sipping my drink and sneaking looks in their direction.

Then I saw Ava approach them and I waited. I waited to see what she would do, and I waited to see what Dean would say. Would he defend Tamsin?

My body tensed when I saw Ava wanted to beat Tamsin up. The situation heated up quickly and I could have easily avoided this by not coming here. I could have spent my time at an underground fight or betting cash in a hidden street race out of town.

Yet, I'm fucking here with a bunch of pricks with sticks up their asses.

Again, what the fuck am I doing here?

My thumb was still touching her lips as I looked down at her. I don't know why I saved her or even interfered in their business. I should have let Tamsin handle her shit on her own. Hell, she wanted Dean. So, she's gotta deal with Dean's bitches. Why was it my fault? Why was any of this my business? Why the hell did I kiss her and liked it?

Pissed that she put me in this situation, I stood up from the bed and walked a step back. I needed the space. To clear my head and to put all the blame on her. All of this was her fault. She got drunk because she wanted to. She came here because she just needed to see Dean. I came here because...fuck! I came here because I couldn't fucking stand the thought of her being around these motherfuckers.

I hated that I care.

It worked well when I didn't.

I should really leave. She should be okay by herself now. I'll just lock the door so no one could get in.

I really needed to punch something and I know the perfect place to go. I walked to the door and checked to see if it had a lock. There was a lock on the door that could be opened with a key. I assumed Avery had the keys to her bedroom. Before closing the door, I turned the lock. I made sure to check if I locked it before I walked off.

When I walked downstairs, I searched for Avery. I found her in the living room dealing with Ava. In terms of equal qualities and status, Ava matched Avery. Avery's parents were rich motherfuckers, and no one wanted to mess with Avery. Ava might have the looks, but Avery was one fierce girl. She doesn't take a lot of shit. I could see that Ava had no choice but to leave the party after being kicked out publicly by the host.

I watched an angry Ava stomped out of the house and dragging Dean along with her. Avery saw me a second later and walked up to me.

"How is she?" she asked.

"She's fine. Sleeping upstairs right now. I locked your door. So, I hope you have the key to your room."

"I do. Thank you for taking her upstairs."

I nodded my head. "I'm gonna head out."

"You aren't going to stay and party?"

"No. I got things to do."

"You didn't have things to do earlier..." she hinted.

My jaw ticked, and I scratched my jawline.

"Yeah, well, now I do."

She nodded her head even though it looked like she didn't believe a single shit that I just said.

"Thanks for coming and helping me out. I appreciate it. I'll give her hell tomorrow for you."

"I appreciate it," I responded the same back.

I left the party and headed to my bike. Throwing my leg over my bike, I reached for my helmet and put it on. Once I started my bike, I revved off and out of the street.

It took me a good thirty minutes before I arrived at the location. I parked my bike in the usual parking spot before walking up to the bouncer. When he saw me, he nodded his head in my direction before opening the door for me.

I walked inside and down the dark hallway. The dark hallway led to a small foyer that looked like an old, run-down motel check-in desk. Across from the entrance was an elevator that led down to the underground fight. I walked inside before hitting the basement button.

When the elevator door opened, a different loud noise blocked the elevator music. All you could hear was the loud shouting and roars of gamblers and fighters. The smell of cigarettes and sweat drenched the air.

The gray brick walls had multiple pictures of fighters, boxers, and challengers stuck to it. In some sections of the wall, there was graffiti written all over it. There were a total of four rings and in each one there were fighters already fighting.

I walked up to the man managing the fight tonight. He was happy to see me and patted me on the back.

"You're just in time. Max's fight is about to finish. You could take up the challenger who wins."

And that was how my night went. I worked off the aggression and stress that was rippling through my body. I wanted for one night to forget all the pains and obligations that holds me back. Pain was something I was familiar with.

When I think about what was waiting for me back out there, it frustrated me. It drained me mentally and physically.

Reality was exhausting and sometimes I wonder if I was strong enough to handle all the obstacles and life challenges thrown at me. I talk as if I have gone through hundreds of years of torture, but it sure felt like it.

By the time I finished the fight, I had a bruises and cuts on my face and body. It was past midnight and way into the early hours of the morning.

When I made it home, I noticed the TV was still on. I opened the front door and noticed that my dad was passed out drunk on the sofa. The TV was still running. I threw my keys in the key tray before walking into the living room to turn off the TV.

It woke my dad up. He grumbled and huffed. I turned to see him shaking off his sleep. When he looked up and saw me, his eyes narrowed angrily.

"Where you been, boy?"

"Out with some friends."

"Did you get me whiskey?"

I looked down and clenched my jaw.

"No."

"What you say?" He took a step towards me.

"I said no."

He backhanded me. I felt the sting, but stood my ground.

"Why the fuck were you out with your friends if you didn't come back with some whiskey?" he roared.

"I didn't stop by the store," I told him honestly.

He moved to grab me around my shirt and pulled me close. I could still smell the alcohol on his breath.

"You listen to me, boy. Go grab me something to drink right now or I'll show you what's coming." My dad shoved me away from him.

It was late, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep, but I knew it wouldn't end until I do what he asked. I nodded my head and walked back to my keys. I grabbed them before walking out of the house.

Walking fast down the steps, I jumped on my bike and revved off. Pain still throbbed in my right cheek. I'm pretty sure it would bruise up tomorrow, but it wasn't anything new for the school. They knew I was a troubled boy, but no one knows what happens behind the door.

My dad is part of the police force. In the public's face, he hides his drinking addiction pretty well. At night, he becomes someone I don't know. A father in name that shares similar look and height, but a stranger to me.

To grab something for him, I had to drive far and out of town. Otherwise, they would know that I wasn't 21 yet. When I reached the gas station, I parked my bike and walked inside. Stuffing my keys in my pocket, I headed for the bathroom. Inside, I slammed the door shut before punching the walls and door. No sound came out of my mouth as I screamed. I fell back against the wall and slid down onto the cold floor. I hid my face and focused on my breathing.

I stopped crying.

I stopped crying after I realized crying didn't help.

I stopped crying when I realized that crying didn't change my fate. Things were still the same. People weren't going to change. My dad was going to continue to drink himself drunk every night. There was no way I would be able to escape this fate because even though my dad was a drunk, he was still my dad.

My thoughts weren't the same. They were all over the place. Sometimes I hated him, but I knew I still loved my old man. He was the only family I had left. After...after what happened, nothing was ever the same again. I guess, I could blame myself for the situation that I was in.

So I breathe and try to calm the turmoil inside of me.

I made an angry hissing sound before covering my mouth with my palm and looked up at the dirty ceiling of the bathroom.

It took me more than a minute to recover. Once I believe I was okay, I stood up and walked to the mirror. A bruise built on my cheek, but luckily I was in the underground fight tonight. It was an excuse I could use. I splashed cold water on my face before gripping the sides of the sink. Closing my eyes, I wanted to find a happy place and for some odd reason; I saw Tamsin sleeping form. Passed out drunk without a care in the world.

My breathing steadied, and I opened my eyes.

Walking out of the bathroom, I grabbed the drink my dad wanted before going to the register and handing them my fake ID. The lady behind the desk took it without asking questions.

I made it home after two hours. When I got inside, my dad was again asleep on the sofa. I put my keys away again before walking over to where he was sleeping. Looking down at him, sleeping like a baby. I felt dead inside.

Bending down, I sat the paper covered glass bottle on the coffee table before walking down the small hallway into my bedroom. I closed the door and locked it. My dad would wake up soon for work. He won't bother checking on me. He'll pretend I'm not here.

I decided not to go to work today. Instead, I crawled into bed and fell asleep. Sleeping off the night and day.