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♥ talisa ♥

TOUGH. THERE HAD always been something so alluring to me by that word. Strength. Power. Pushing on. When I was younger, a heroic woman used to come to mind.

It was the girl that nobody messed with because they knew she wasn't going to take any of your crap. The one who would easily cut you into two like a soft blade on a string.

Not to be messed with.

Feminine but strong. Rough. And definitely not just here for the pretty things.

And of course, fiercely loyal.

I clenched my hands into tight fists that were trembling with a repetitive jilt, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair was ruined, strewn everywhere with knots as if I'd rolled down a bloody hill.

Screw you, Lexi.

I'd spent too many hours curling it with a ridiculous iron just to impress him and none of it had paid off.

The shit girls do that boys don't even notice.

On my hand, besides the silver dragon ring that I always wore, were three raw red ugly burn marks from my earlier attempts. "This is why I bloody straighten my hair instead of curl."

My eyebrows pulled into a straight line as I thought of how in control and powerful he looked from beginning to end, sculpted as if he were a marble statue fallen from Olympus itself. I played the scene from an hour ago back thought my mind.

'You look beautiful.'

He was like that unreachable monarch that everybody wanted but nobody could reach.

Knitting my eyebrows together, I glanced at my reflection. "Apart from you. You're there, Talisa. He's yours and you're his. He wants you and you want him."

Stop lying to yo-

I gritted my teeth at the thought of Louisa, realising that I never really got an answer. Why the hell was she back?

Pursing my lips, I held them in front of me watching how the long dangerously thin fingers, that I'd been patronised numerous times should be one to grace a violin and not form a fist, shook from side to side in an uncontrollable tremor.

Girl's don't fight, honey.

Why can't she dance like her cousins?

She's diffe-

The shake was with an intensity I'd never had before and I clutched the rim of the white sink in front of me tightly to stop it.

Dammit, I want something to punch. Real bad.

I glanced at the watch around my wrist.

8.48 pm.

The gym shuts at 10. You can still catch an hour.

Before I could think, I left the bathroom that was connected to my room and put on my workout wear, ripping of the bottle green dress with imminent loathing. I never wanted to see that thing again.

Scowling, I pressed it into a tight small ball and threw the four grand worth of fabric in the bin.

It only took fifteen minutes to drive there but it felt like a mere minute with everything going through my mind. The man working at the desk recognised me and let me in without a word. It was a good thing considering I'd left my card in my room in the rush.

After putting my valuables in the locker, I looked at the large mirror, tying up my hair into a high ponytail inspecting myself.

I looked good. Tall. Slim. A lightly dusted pair of abs imprinted on my stomach under my sports bra. Longer than life legs that looked even longer in the tight black leggings.

That was when my attention fell upon the elasticated waistband briefly, noticing how it was beginning to get a little loose. Volatile anger pushed through me as I stormed towards the main area, walking past the upper body training area.

A group of men, probably seven years older than me were eying me up and staring at my body with devouring eyes. I didn't have time or patience to bother with them at the start but then a low wolf-whistle filled the air.

Oh boy. You've damn well had it.

Turning on my heel, I went straight up to the man, lazily reclining on the tricep dip equipment, my eyes giving him a stare strong enough to burn a hole through his fat bald head.

"Go on then."

He sat up straighter in surprise.

"Did you have something to bloody say to me?"

My voice was like razors scraping through his throat leaving him stuttering. "U-Uh-"

The green of my eyes bore into him so strongly that it was almost painful whilst my lip curled in disgust, "I'm fucking waiting."

"No," he said, mouth falling open and stunned. "No. No, I didn't."

A few silent beats passed.

"Well, that's lucky for you, isn't it?" I bit in a glower, already beginning to walk towards the large red bags. "Why don't you go back to lying down and letting the fact that you're in a gym pump your false belief that you're a man.

"Because the way you're acting, you're certainly not."

They didn't bother me again, probably fearful that I'd leave them butchered.

The red gloves fit me familiarly and within seconds, I lost it. I was pummelling the punch bag continuously, a furious snarl on my mouth as a soft sheen of glistening sweat began to form on my body. Again and again, my arms battered at it shoving it too and fro. It felt like the harder I hit, counter-intuitively, the more everything I was holding onto was slipping away from me.

After 8 long minutes, I took a step away and heaved loudly for air, doubling over at the waist. Air. I needed air. A cold liquid trickled down my back and strands of dark damp brown hair clung to my forehead.

Nothing's going to change, Talisa. You've worked hard to get where you are. You promised yourself you would make something of yourself despite everything. You promised. You said you'd always fight back. You were going to prove to them that you can.

In seconds, I was back on again for round two, this time Louisa coming to mind. I shook my head furiously, grunting as I boxed aggressively. "Why did she have to ruin everything? Things were going so damn well."

It's not too late. It's not too late. It's not too late. It's not too late...

The image of her standing at the door, hair in a low bun and make-up effortlessly perfect came to mind. I swung forward with my left hand, a thousand thoughts whizzing around in my mind.

Some fake friend.

'We can deal with this together,' she had told me. Lied to me. 'I'll help you get out of this. Like you've always helped me. I'll be your rock through this just like how you've always been mine. I promise.'

I punched even harder, my lungs unable to keep up with the intensity at which my heart was beating. It felt like it was going to give out. My head was spinning, everything fuzzy but I didn't care. I fought harder.

What had I not done for her? I'd done so much for her and she didn't even-

She proved to be just like the rest of them, Talisa. Judging you for something you can't control and refusing to trust you when it came to crunch. Narrow-minded. The same biases and everything.

Something clicked.

That's why she always liked Ashlei better. With her fair skin and pretty blonde hair and-

Forget it. You're better off without her.

I stumbled backwards, heart beating too fast and things going hazy. My chest was moving at hundred miles per hour and I gasped for air, holding onto the bag for support. Everything tilted around me as my pulse was so strong that it thudded in my ears. Everything was black for a moment.

Sweating and with a scowl still imprinted in my face, I turned towards the large floor length mirror across the gym wall.

That was when I noticed a familiar individual in the background who looked as if he'd been intently watching me for hours.

Our eyes locked on each other at the same time and he fearfully looked away, pretending he hasn't seen me. I rolled my eyes, about to drop it when he began staring again. A part of me was glad for the distraction from everything exploding in my head.

"You." His grip on the rowing machine slipped in fear at my voice. "What are you doing here?"

He was wearing a white sport tank top and shorts that shone against his chocolate skin. "I-I came to-"

There was a slight French accent in his voice as he nervously looked down. I noticed how the tight short curls at the front of his head had been neatly shaved into a rectangular shape that complemented his square head. I arched an eyebrow.

"-I came to swim."

"Swim. In the gym area?"

His black eyes widened as he vigorously shook his head, "Non! I mean gym. I came to the gym. To work out. Not swim." He began flexing his left bicep in a gesture. "Muscles."

Frowning at his slight weirdness, I turned around. The idiot seemed to have instantaneously forgotten that there was a mirror opposite him and immediately started watching me as soon as he thought I could no longer see.

A second later he moved onto the cycling machine which was directly beside the boxing area that I'd began round three in.

After three minutes of a singular audience, I snapped out again. After all, ignoring things never worked well for me. Tackling them head on usually got the job done faster.

"Dammit. You know I can see you. In the mirror."

He pretended he didn't hear me.

What the hell's wrong with this guy?

Feeling a wave of frustrated, I rapidly pulled off the gloves and glared at him. "For God's sake. Who even are you?" I said with contempt, a tide of irritation running through me when that same distorted fear in his eyes grew even brighter. It wasn't just fear. It had another emotion that I couldn't quite decipher.

This was beginning to piss me off.

I was used to people being afraid of me but most of the time they got the hint when I glared at them. This guy seemed unable to process that, for he continued magically gazing at me in awe.

"P-Pierre. I am Pierre. Pierre Lafayette," the man began, sticking out his hand for me to shake it. "My name is Pierre Lafayette, Madame. Pierre Lafayette-"

"Okay, I got it. Jeez, you said that like five times," I bit with an eye roll, my green eyes darting around the empty gym. Pulling my ponytail which had begun slipping, tighter, I gave him a one over and ignored his outstretched hand.

Talking a gulp of water from my bottle, I muttered under my breath. "I asked for an answer, not a tape-recorded. I get it."

His pearly white teeth shone as he opened his mouth to say something but shut it immediately after reconsidering.

I took a deep breath, not because I was trying to calm my temper but because I was so out of breath that I thought my heart was going to explode from working out too much. There was still such a strong feeling of anger and although I hated to say it, worry, rampaging through my body. I was so furious that my body didn't know what to do with all the vexation.

"Pierre, frankly I'm not the best person to be around right now so you might wanna leave."

Stress levels rising even higher, I began punching again but this time around stopped in less than thirty seconds when I felt the same gaze surveying me.

Did he have nothing better to do with his life?

Words that people had said to me today suddenly came flooding back to me.

Lexi seemed to think that I was desperate for being in the spotlight. I laughed bitterly as I smashed the punching bag so hard that the string it was hung by quivered.

How wrong.

The attention was never ever what I cared about.

It was only him.

The fact Lexi thought I was obsessed with being in the limelight was probably more of a reflection of her wishes. I wouldn't have been surprised. I could still remember how she clawed her way into our circle, set upon climbing the ranks.

Let's not forget her deal with Logan a while back in hope of gaining the crown.

But tonight had shown me that Lexi wasn't the only one who seemed to think being Queen was what mattered to me. Prince and other people at Forteaux thought so too.

My structured face scowled and I felt my knuckles going red as I brutally butchered my hands.

Well, it just proved how little they knew about me. However, I wasn't surprised. Never in my seven years at Forteaux did I expect them to understand me and it had never mattered either. After all, I had Louisa who knew me better than myself and one person standing beside you meant more than an army.

Clearly, I had been wrong.

Very wrong.

Screw this.

Pulling off the velcro of the globes aggressively, I chucked them on the floor and spoke to myself. "Too polite, Talisa. Didn't get the message across."

Whipping my head behind me, I took a menacing step forward towards the man that was a few inches taller than me. He shrank back. My light eyes locked with his dark ones and he looked like he'd been paralysed. "Okay let me rephrase that. Get out of my damn eyeline Pierre before you become my next punching bag. Understand?"

He scrambled away in seconds.

But in the wrong direction. I bit my tongue to stop a scream, instead choosing to let out a shaky breath and rub my forehead. Oh, for heaven's sake.

"Pierre. That's the wrong way. The exit's to the left."

"Oh. Merci."

When I opened my eyes again, nothing but an empty gym met me. 

hope you enjoyed the chapter! i have one request; quick note, i'd really appreciate it if you tried to be non-judgemental about all the character. i said this at the start of TPOG but i know that was a while ago so i'll repeat it.

lots of (nearly all) the characters make mistakes and bad decisions and that's a key part of the story! so please try to see things from every individual's perspective rather than from just your favourite character's point of view. try putting yourself in other people's shoes and see things from their eyes. if you really try to empathise with each and every person's plight, things will make a lot more sense.

thank you,
kiwiandkoalas x

♥ 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫! ♥