It was an extremely cold day in the core of Chicago. Christmas and New Year had past, and everything was slowly but surely going back to normal. The pandemonium was halted until next year, and it was back to work for the adults, and back to school for the kids.
Phillip Jack Brooks was a resident in a small apartment in downtown Chicago. To the unknown he was motionless. He was arrogant and selfish. But no one really knew him. He didn't let people know him.
He'd grew up around agro and violence, and it had ticked on to his adult life. What must people wouldn't expect, was it was his father who influenced the bad way of life he lived. His mother died in childbirth with his little sister, just when he was eight years old. Which brought him on to his little sister, Elise. She had upped and left the minute it was legal for her to leave home. She couldn't stand living with him and their father. They barely let her breathe. Despite being bad men, they both done their best to make sure their little sister wasn't harmed.
Now, you would think he and his father was as tight as a son and father could be, but they actually weren't. In fact, Punk blamed his father for the failure in his life. When he lost his mother, he lost stability, and a bright future. His father took him under his wing, showed him how to be a 'real man' as his father so adequately would put it. He couldn't really go back now. He never stayed in school. He'd never been in a relationship. He didn't know how to act upon meeting new people. His father had ruined him, and the tension between them grew thicker every day.
"You heard from Elise?" Punk asked, a childhood nickname his mother gave him, that he insisted everyone called him, and everyone did call him Punk, apart from his father.
"Her and Toni moved house a few weeks ago." His father, Jack (hence his middle name), spoke in a low toned voice.
Of course, Punks little sister left home a good few years ago. Now she was living in a secure house with her four year old daughter, working a sturdy job.
"You should really lay off the watchers." Punk admitted, "You know if she finds out she'll go ape shit." Punk laughed as Jack nodded.
"Just like your mother would." Jack admitted with a smile.
Their way of life was evil. There wasn't really a name to give what they done. He supposed the closest they got to was being Hitmen. Just with less murdering.
When he wasn't working, if that's what you'd even call it, he was either in his apartment or out with his friends, or sometimes his father would invite himself over uninvited.
When he looked in the mirror, he never really saw a bad man inside of himself. He may have been pretty arrogant and horrid, but he wasn't bad. His father, he was the definition of a bad man.
It hadn't occurred to him how such a bad man like his father, was landed with such a sweet woman like his mother. He may have been young, but he still remembered his mothers hugs, and the perfume she'd wear. She'd always tell him she had his back, no matter what. Her death couldn't have been helped, and no one was to blame. She haemorrhaged and died a tragic death. There was nothing more to it.
"When do you want me down at Invictus?" Punk asked, sitting on his couch in sweats whilst his father paced up and down, calling different people and workers. Because in this game, this unsafe life, people they seen on a daily basis were just workers. Befriending co workers in this type of work was just a recipe for disaster. That's what his father told him anyway.
"6pm. Sharp." Jack said.
"Are you opening tonight?" Punk asked.
"At 7." Jack nodded, "But I want you down early. Gotta sort out a few people. Might need your help." Jack said.
Of course, Jack was an older man, barely in his prime. Although he was rather young to have a thirty three year old son. He and his late wife had their children very early. In fact, he was just eighteen when he had Punk. Sometimes, he'd have to get Punk to handle the more physical tasks as he wasn't much of a spring chicken anymore.
"Ok." Punk nodded.
His father had poisoned him the minute his mom shut her eyes forever. He wanted him to carry on this legacy, if that was what you'd even call it. He wanted to teach him this way of life, and now that he knew it, now that he was aware of everything you had to be in this business, he couldn't really escape it.
A little bit away from Punk and his father, was the remaining end of the small family, Elise, Punk's sister and Jack's daughter. She was very much like her mother in a way that she hated what Punk and Jack were. Of course she still loved them, but she refused to be around them anymore.
She lived in her own house with her four year old daughter, Toni. She'd gotten knocked up the minute she left Punk and Jack, which wasn't planned, and she supposed it proved that she did need her father and brother protecting her, but she wanted to prove to everyone and them that she was able to handle herself and a child.
Four years later, and she was doing just fine on her own. She worked for the radio, and her daughter went to Kindergarten. It was a simple life compared to what she would have been sucked into with her brother and father. She was glad she got away when she did.
"Hey, baby did you have fun?" Elise asked, crouching down and holding her daughter by her little waist as she nodded, picking her up from the ballet class she took twice a week. She loved ballet and dance, a lot like her. She just never got the chance to do anything about it as her father and brother never really took interest. All they done was protect her from absolutely everything, and barely let her breathe. She understood them looking out for her, but it was ridiculous.
"Yeah." Toni nodded, she'd been going to the ballet class for a few months now. She was in amongst girls her age, and she just loved her teacher. All she ever talked about was Miss Mendez.
"Will we get your coat and bag and get going? I'm gonna make your favourite for dinner." She smiled as Toni nodded with excitement, running away to the corner to get her bag and coat, and to change her shoes.
"Hey..." Elise heard a small voice from beside her, turning around and spotting the teacher who she'd spoke to a few times, not often.
"Hi, is everything ok?" Elise asked.
"Yeah." The teacher nodded, "Toni is doing great in class. We have a recital coming up and I'd love to have her do her own routine. Do you think she would be ok with it?" The elegant teacher asked politely as Elise smiled.
"She'd love that." Elise said, "In fact, she'll be over the moon." She looked over to Toni who was dancing her way over to her from the corner.
"Well practice starts next week." The teacher smiled, "I think she'll be brilliant." She nodded as Toni joined her mother, smiling up at Miss Mendez.
"Yeah." Elise agreed, running her fingers through her daughters hair with a smile, "Thank you." She nodded to the teacher, heading off with Toni whilst the other girls left also, leaving the teacher in the studio to tidy up and head off herself.
April Jeanette Mendez was a highly qualified ballet teacher who took pleasure in teaching classes to young, teen and older girls six days a week. She loved teaching the younger girls the most, it was a lot more relaxing and it was amazing to see such young spirits take a passion to the sport she had at the same age.
She'd grown up not similar to many people. Her mother and father were tragically killed when she was just eight years old, and so her big sister had taken care of her ever since. It was her mother who encouraged her passion for ballet, and ever since she died, she was determined to take it further, and teach others.
She lived alone in an apartment not far from the studio she taught in. She'd dated here and there, but she'd never took interest in anyone that much where she felt like they were that typical 'one'
In her spare time she enjoyed to indulge in art and visit different museums, which was surprising as she didn't look like a typical art geek. Despite her beauty, she actually didn't have any friends. The only person she spoke to on a regular basis was her sister and occasionally the parents of her students. But she didn't have any high school friends or just friends in general that she hung around with. She was very much alone, but she was used to it.
She looked like a typical ballet teacher. She was slim and bendy with an incredible body that got her into trouble a lot when out in parks and alleys after dark. Her hair was a dark brown colour that contrasted with her caramel skin. She was born in Puerto Rico, but moved to the states shortly after she was born. Her entire family were of a Puerto Rican heritage, and she was fluent in Spanish. But it only ever slipped out when she was angry.
She tidied the studio which had mirrors everywhere as well as a spectacular flooring to dance on. The studio and company for that matter was all hers. She started it and it had now turned into something wonderful. She was the only teacher there, which did make it hard and sometimes exhausting to spread herself out, but she always made sure her students were getting taught something new every day.
She walked to and from the studio everyday. She had sat her driving test and passed, but not only did she find it stupid to spend a large amount of money on a car, she actually didn't mind walking, she loved it actually.
She got home every night at the same time, round about 6 and cooked herself a homely meal. She enjoyed cooking too, adding that to the list of the few things she enjoyed doing. But putting aside her elegance and her passions, sometimes all she wanted to do was sit on the couch with a tub of ice cream and watch TV all day in sweats. She was still human.
She was content with her life for the moment. She surrounded herself by things she loved, so never to get down or negative. She pushed away the negativity in her life. She felt that was the best way to live life.
Back with Punk and his father at their night club in downtown Chicago, Invictus… Jack had rounded up all his crew to have a discussion before they opened up for the night. Punk sat on bar stool behind his father alongside his friends, Dean and Sami, watching as his father ladled into their gang. He supposed they were the classic example of the old Chicago gangs. Despite it seeming easy, it actually was hard to be a part of. It was life or death, and his father was the decision of that.
"Tom, get your ass up!" Jack yelled as one of the guys stood up from a seat, walking over to Jack and nodding, "Because of you, we're at war now. You lot know that if you fail me, I fail Dennis and guess what? If I die, you're all next." He looked at them all, "You guys know we don't just go out, carelessly and attack." He spat.
"I'm sorry, Sir… I thought you wanted the job done." Tom explained.
"I did. But in secrecy. You know how we do things around here." Jack croaked, "You're a fucking idiot." He shook his head, fondling around in his back jean pocket as Punk watched closely, sharing intense stares with Dean and Sami as his father suddenly turned to him.
"Deal with him." Jack said, placing the gun in his hand and walking away through the back of the nightclub as Punk looked over at Tom. Just a young guy like himself, shaking in his boots as he stood up.
His fathers orders were final. He had no choice but to load the gun up and watch everyone turn away…
A/N; And there you go! Not so typical good girl, bad guy story coming up for you guys. It's hard thinking of plots when I've already gone through so much stories, but I hope you'll enjoy this one. Please review and let me know what you guys think?
