Dahlia cracked her eyes open and squinted them as the sun uninvited into her room through cracks in the shades. Reluctantly she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed as she rubbed her face only to flinch when she felt a sudden pain. She glanced over beside her to see her washed up Indie wrestler boyfriend still passed out from last nights episode of drinking and fighting and she grimaced at him. As she got up and exited her room to get to the bathroom her apartment was in complete disarray.
"Fuck sakes." She said in annoyance as she made her way through the mess, which she'd have to clean up after work, and entered the bathroom. She leaned on the sink as she took in her reflection, make-up smeared and a nice shiner gracing her right eye as she let out a sigh, grabbing her make-up bag and fixing herself up as her eyeliner dipped lower than usually to cover to mark. Her white blond hair fell in shambles around her face as she pulled a brush through and gave herself two messy braids that framed both sides of her face. As she left the bathroom she was craving a cigarette and seen the pack she'd bought yesterday laying on the coffee table, among other things, but when she picked it up it was empty.
"That cock smith." She said as the irritation set in. She brought the empty pack with her into the room as she threw it at her sleeping boyfriends form making him stir. She currently worked two jobs just to keep food on the table and a roof over their head while he lazed around all day and went to the gym occasionally. Her day job was an assistant for an editor and her second one was a Valet for Nick, which he'd roped her into once she'd gotten involved with him.
"Fuck off I have a match tonight." He said and she rolled her eyes.
"And I have to go to work with no cigarettes along with a nice bruise under my eye." She said back to him sarcastically making him turn and look at her.
"You had one job to do Dahlia, and that was to keep the ref distracted so I could get in a cheap shot but you couldn't even do that so you got what was coming to you." He replied and she held back her anger.
"When are things going to get better?" She asked him in a low tone as she stood with her fingers tapping on the top of her dresser that was situated by the bed.
"Speak up, I hate it when you mumble." He said and she picked up one of her hair clips and threw it at him as she turned.
"I said when are things going to get better?! That's all I've been hearing but nothing is getting better! We struggle every god damn day of every month and all you do is spend money on booze that you end up pissing out the next fucking morning!" She yelled as he leapt from the bed and pushed her against the wall, his hand on her throat. At one point she would shake in fear over reactions like this, but she got so used to it that she wasn't even fazed anymore and just glared.
"I bust my ass off in that ring every night you unappreciative bitch. I could have left you in Jersey, scrubbing toilets and tubs as a chambermaid but I didn't. I took pity on you and brought you wit me but had I known the hell you'd put me through I'd have left you there!" He yelled pushing his face closer to hers. She shoved against him repeatedly until his grip loosened and he released her.
"I really wish you would have because at least then I only had to work one job and know I could depend on getting a cheque for the work I do. These guys owe both of us for two months and a bunch of other people." She said and he wiped his hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down as he sat on the bed with his hands clasped together and pressed to his lips.
"We'll get our break yet. I have an appointment with some talent scouts and hopefully it goes somewhere this time." He said as he recalled the last time he'd put forth effort only to get nothing in return.
"I sure as hell hope so because I am so done with this life, with us, that I'm ready to walk away." She said as she pulled open her dresser drawer and pulled out her black ripped leggings and a black tank that hung past her hips.
"Then just fucking leave Dahlia. I always hear that but you never actually go and now it's just fucking annoying and I wish you would leave." He spat at her.
"And when I do leave you're going to realize that you're nothing without me. I make your life better here and in the fucking ring." She said back as she pulled her clothes on.
"Really? You think your ring persona "Black Dahlia" is that important? Well she's not and I can do just fine without you so don't even bother showing up tonight." He said and she was fine with that.
"Good I need a fucking break from you and that bullshit excuse for a company anyway." She said pulling on her black knee high boots before leaving her apartment with a slam of the door. She need a cigarette badly so she stopped at a convenience store along her way to work to grab a pack before she killed someone. Dahlia was every bit the same person in real life as she was in the ring, bitter, mean and miserable. It wasn't who she was before Nick, but slowly the transformation took place starting with her make-up. As the abuse got worse, her make-up got darker and thicker. Then it was her clothes that slowly faded to black, and finally her attitude as she got sick and tired of everything all together. All she had to do was make it through the day, that was what she kept telling herself day after day to try and make her situation a little more bearable as she put up with an unbearable man.