It was late in the evening, and I was in my room reading a book. My roommates and the other children were downstairs partying. The orphanage decided to throw a little party to celebrate the winter break. I was too tired to join them, but I did take some of the food upstairs with me. What can I say, I'm a fatty. I had actually planned on taking a nap after arriving from school, but Mr. Sandman was avoiding me. Thankfully, training was cancel today. I was too tired to do anything. I spent all last weekend and this week staying up all night studying for my finals, and lost lots of sleep, and I have a mission this weekend to make it up. Suddenly nature called. So I put my book to the side and rush to the restroom.

After finishing my business in the bathroom, I shut the lights off and close the door, making my way back to my bed. I'd pass the mirror on the wall on my way to the bed. For some odd reason something in the mirror caught my attention, so I walk backward back to it. Looking at my features in the mirror.

I already knew that I looked more like my biological father than my biological mom. How I know? You might ask me. Well… remember when I mention that I met her for the first time when I was thirteen? While she was spitting mean and hurtful thing toward me. I was looking over at her. At first, I didn't believe that she was really my mom, since I didn't see any resemblance with her, until I saw that she had big lips as mine. You know those big, juicy, pumped lips that chicks would kill to have by getting lips injections treatments. Those kind, but natural; that the only appearance looks wise that I got from my mom.

My dad on the other hand, having most of his features. I can kind of make an image in my head of what he looks like. Me having green eyes and red hair, I've already assume that my father had to have some Irish. I have his huge forehead and a big ear, thankfully my hair covers them. I'm sure I have his nose, which was big and pointy, but it fit my face. I have a very masculine jawline that I use to be self-conscious about, but as years pass by I got use to it.

I bit my lip, suddenly thinking about my father. Sometime I wonder if he was still alive or dead already. If he made it into the mainstream wrestling business, or did he go after a different career. Did he live by himself or did he have a wife and children. Even though I didn't know my father personal, the little information that I do know about him. He has earned the name dumbass. If he was dumb to sleep with my crack headed mother, he has to be one.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of "Beyond Belief" by Epica coming from my phone. I walk over to the bed, and grab my phone, wondering who was calling me. I wasn't expecting any phone calls today. When I look to see who it was, I was extremely surprised, it was Mrs. Washington.

I wonder why the hell she was calling me. Don't get me wrong, Mrs. Washington is pretty cool, none the less very ghetto fabulous and fierce if you ask me. But it was very rare to get a phone call from her or her husband. If training was cancel, they got the other trainers to contact us. Usually, if you got a called from either of them, you were in some deep shit.

I figure that if she was calling me so randomly during the day, it must be something serious. I don't remember doing anything wrong, so I decided to answer it.

So why's Booker T's wifey calling Angel, is it good new or bad news or is she calling her to check up on her. What you think? Review!