Chapter 1, part 1. The world breaks you so it can remake you.

Varrior Munro woke with a smile on his face, for the first time in a long while. Today was the one month anniversary of his relationship with one of the prettiest girls he had ever met. Taylor Coulson was the girl of his dreams. It was because of her that he didn't mind the bright light of the sun lightening his dark brown, almost black eyes.

His smile widened as he thought of her long brown hair, large grey eyes, perfectly symmetrical diamond shaped face, her kissable heart shaped pink lips–at the thought of them, butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He recalled the first time they kissed.

He had been completely caught off guard and nearly ruined the moment but when he took her beautiful face within his hands and slowly massaged her lips with his, everything fell into place and everything felt right.

He glanced at his bedside table towards the clock that laid on it. The time read 7:30 which meant that he had 1 hour to prepare for their brunch at 10. Varrior had planned the perfect anniversary date by the beach which was where they first met.

He sat upright in his bed, swinging his legs over the side. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to get rid of the temporary blurriness in his left eye. He gave up after blinking several times but it stayed.

He stood and quickly made his bed as neatly as he possibly could. He took up all the pieces of clothing scattered across the floor and yawned as he went to stand before the full length mirror in his room.

He wasn't much to look at. He had wild black curly hair that stopped just over his eyebrows. He had a square jaw and hooded eyes. His lips were perfectly proportioned. He wasn't pretty but Taylor had called him cute a lot and his mom always said that he was her handsome boy. He would always respond with, 'it's because of your good genes' making his mom blush. His mom was mixed, half black and half asian.

His older brother had taken after their Korean grandfather while he had taken after his grandmother but everyone knew that Varrior Munro was the splitting image of his father Lucius Munroe, his mysterious estranged father, who never forgot his birthday but also never bothered to show his face.

Varrior's mom didn't talk about him much so after a while Varrior stopped asking. He had a closet full of expensive gifts that he would wear on special occasions and today was a special occasion.

He entered the closet and grabbed his latest gift, a pair of really neat Jordan's. He was almost reluctant to wear them but he decided that looking good for Taylor was worth it. He also grabbed his gift for her and his favourite jacket.

He went to his bathroom and undressed, trying not to let his insecurities get the best of him. Varrior was not the most in shape teenage boy. He didn't have muscles running all over his body. He was just a few inches from being 6ft which made him look scrawny. Growing up Varrior didn't used to eat a lot. He would throw up his food uncontrollably when he was little.

It was due to this why when he was in middle school he would get bullied profoundly and at times they would call him, cursed. Parents of his classmates would whisper that his mother had slept with one of the Princes of hell. Varrior didn't like the people of Knoxville very much. They loved to gossip and spread lies.

Varrior sighed, deciding to set aside such dark thoughts. Today was going to be a good day.

He showered quickly and got dressed and then went towards the small kitchen in the small apartment he shared with his mom. He began to gather the ingredients to make the sandwiches for himself and Taylor. He kept on reminding himself of all the foods she liked versus those she disliked.

"Good morning, you're up earlier than usual on a Saturday," his mom said walking into the kitchen, moving carefully between the couch and coffee table.

"Good morning, mom. Today is actually a very special day. It's our one month anniversary…Taylor and I," he said nervously, slicing a whole sandwich diagonally.

"Oh, big day! Where are you taking her?" His mom said, grabbing one of the sandwiches on the plate. He didn't mind because he had made that one for her.

"Where we first met by the beach and after I'm thinking maybe she can come over," he said slowly and hesitantly, watching his mother from the corner of his eyes as she moved to stand behind him.

She hummed. "So that's why your room is looking cleaner than it usually does," she noted with a nod.

As Varrior placed the last sandwich in the plastic container, he ran his hand over the low cut hair at the back of his head that tickled the palm of his hands. He felt his cheeks burn and he couldn't help the sheepish smile that fell on his lips.

"Just remember to keep it down and the door open. I don't want to be a grandma just yet," his mother said, staring directly into his eyes. "Appa, would freak," she whispered quietly under her breath.

"Ma, we weren't going to do anything like that," he whined, embarrassed by the accusations.

"Heed my warnings," his mother sang as she walked from the room and went back to her studio. His mother was an artist. She designed many popular tattoos and her work was one of a kind and was hanging over a few celebrities' beds.

He chuckled and grabbed the container, placing it into a picnic basket that was filled with biscuits and cookies. He grabbed two water bottles and put them inside as well. It was 7:55 when he finally left the apartment.

The house where he lived was in a housing scheme that belonged to a very influential family in Knoxville. They were very friendly but were also very private. The house belonged to Arturo, the mechanic who lived down stairs. He didn't communicate much with Varrior and his mother but Varrior liked to think that they had an unspoken friendship because Arturo had fixed his bike when Varrior had fallen from it trying to get away from one of his bullies that lived in the scheme.

The people who lived in the scheme were very weird and it was because of this why Arturo had warned Varrior and his mother to stay inside during the night time. For a while Varrior had wondered why they didn't move but just as the situation with his father, he stopped asking when business started getting good for his mother.

He left one of the sandwiches wrapped in a paper towel on the table in the garage as he went to get his bicycle. It was also a gift from his dad. He wondered what the mysterious man would give him for his 16th birthday which was coming soon. He hoped that he would get a car but didn't want anything too expensive, afraid his mother would send it back. She flipped when his dad had given him a laptop for his 14th birthday.

Varrior huffed, hopping on his bike and pedalling down the quiet road, passing by suburban style houses as he did. It didn't take him long to reach the beach. It took him an hour to set up his perfect date.

And then he waited. He checked his watch every 5 minutes as he sat on the blanket that had cardboard underneath it. He waited and waited and then he waited some more. He cursed himself for leaving his phone at home.

He finally stood to leave when the sun was at its peak in the sky. He packed up his things and walked further down the beach, stopping by a gazebo to munch sadly on his sandwiches. She probably didn't thought of it as a big deal. It was just a month, no biggie but that didn't stop his heart from shattering.

How could she forget!? His jaw twitched in anger. Throwing his half eaten sandwich aside, he leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees, running his slender fingers through his hair. He took deep breaths as he attempted to settle his frantically beating heart and his dangerously rising emotions.

Varrior had issues with anger. Issues that were birthed from his absent father and the bullying he endured for years by his older sibling, his neighbours and the kids he grew around. He had been to therapy several times to sort out his emotions but he always felt like the man was also judging him.

Judging him for not having a father figure in his life, judging him for who his birth father was. He would get anger over how quickly people choose to hate when they heard mention of his last name. They treated him as if he wasn't human, as if he wasn't just a boy.

Taylor didn't treat him as such, she treated him as he was, as he deserved to be treated. Taylor was very new to town and Varrior was the first person that greeted her. He felt warmth in his chest in the wake of her smile. She was the most beautiful girl in the world.

~~You've probably guessed it but he was whipped, like egg whites in those souffle pancakes.