From hatred to love. Trust turns to betrayal.
The story of the leader of a troublemaker group called the Jets and a lonely girl who has lived her life in hiding with little to no one knowing who she truly is.
Riff Lorton; leader of the Jets.
...
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Amelia's feet landed on the wooden floor as she twirled with elegance. She hummed to the soft tunes of her self-written music that she created just to kill her boredom. She swayed her hands and kicked up her legs. Her eyes were closed, focused on the choreography she invented in mere seconds. One step after another.
It ended when her leg caught itself on her loveseat. She shrieked and dropped to the ground with a thud. She turned herself, facing the dull yellow ceiling and let out a sigh.
"I have no friends," she pouted to herself.
She sat up and read the silent apartment that she calls her house. She pulled herself up and head towards the window. She pushed up the window and looked out. The bright sun shone down on her, and she squinted her eyes staring up into the sky.
Now, why did I do that?
Amelia lived alone in a two-room apartment. One room was hers and the other used to be her mother's before she passed. The kitchen was placed nicely next to the front door. It was small but efficient for one person.
The walls were plain yellow, the same as the ceiling. Photo frames of her and her mother decorated the dull walls, brightening the room a little.
It was hard after her mother passed. She was alone at 13, staying in a large (not so large) home. She was never one to make close friends even though many would love to but she could only push herself to have acquaintances.
After her mother passed, she never had a place to call home. The apartment was just a house. Empty house. What used to be lively became apathetic. The yellow walls which used to be her favourite colour became her most hated colour but she let it remain because it reminded her of the one person who raised her. Who went through all the trouble to move into New York as a single mother with a seven-year-old child.
They were lucky that Amelia's mother had a set of parents who left them fortunes before they passed. It was just enough to purchase and own an apartment. The repainting and redesigning was all the effort of Amelia's mother, which was another reason why Amelia never wanted to change or move anything.
Amelia stepped out of her memories and walled towards the room. She figured that instead of spending her rest day cooped up at home, she should take a walk. She slipped on a nice dress for the afternoon and put on her classic black heels. She stepped out of the house and locked her apartment with her key. Taking a trip down the stairs and out on the pavement.
She strolled down the pavement and looked at the moving traffic. Women in dresses walk hand in hand. Shop owner entertaining a woman who's buying groceries. This is life in New York.
She busied herself watching others when she crashed into a hard surface. She shifted her head to look at what she had made contact with and froze in her steps upon realising it was a person.
