Angel's feet moved across the floor as if they were attached to the carpet and became separated once she leapt into the air. The music pulsated throughout the young dancer's body like the warm blood running through her veins. Angel moved like one body performing a lonely solo, waltzing in graceful circles. She twirled like the ballerina she was but had the energy like a spunky jazz dancer, her feet as energized as that of tap dancing, her limbs breaking, locking, and popping like a hip-hop dancer straight from the streets. She danced to the music only she could hear, breathing the words to her own song that only she could sing and only those who looked in her point of view would be able to hear and understand her melody. The taps of her feet planting on the floor matched the thumps of her heart hammering against her chest. Her feet kept moving, never halting, never faltering. She moved as if there were couples dancing along with her, as if she were switching partners to perform a different style of dance from ballet to jazz, modern to hip-hop, salsa to tango, everything she was taught. Her movements were often described as a play that everyone always came to watch, the way she would express the emotion with her face and her movements were the words being spoken to her audience. Sooner than expected, Michael joined the lonely girl in the living room where the furniture had been pushed up against the walls to make room for her performance. Just as radiant as her, he danced along with the rhythm that she followed. Their souls were bright, almost glowing as they moved as one body, one being, like their hearts were entwined into one.

When her movements stopped, he stopped and they both stood completely still, smiling gently once they heard the imaginary applause of their audience tossing them bouquets of roses.

"The auditions are coming up," Angel panted, resting her hands on her hips.

"Are you nervous?" Michael asked glancing over at her.

"Sorta. I really need to step it up though. Could you do me a really small favor?" Michael's face broke into a radiant smile.

"Sure. What is it?" She extracted a folded sheet of paper from the couch then handed it to him.

"Could you go to Benny's Corner to pick up a few things. I'm kind of scared of that place. Usually, Jackie goes there because he's so big and strong and all and I can't-?!"

"I'll do it. You just keep practicing." Angel smiled and placed a warm, tender kiss on his cheek, causing chills to ride up from his ankles all the way up to the nape of his neck.

"Thanks, Michael. Your the best!" Smiling gently, he nodded and started out of the room.

Roylin Pryce walked into the abandoned warehouse as a new man, a skip in his step and a merry smile on his cocoa face. He had called a meeting for the Vipers, the boys who had been through the same things as him, the ones that shared his background and went through the same situations as him. He loved them very much but now, it was time for them to change, for the better, for Angel's pride and his own. Once he entered through the rattling door, everyone greeted him with warm smiles and pats-on-the-backs. Leroy stood to one side, frowning glumly as if he had just been condemned. Roylin didn't take notice of him or his depression, didn't even consider his mere presence.

"I came to split us up." The words shocked all in the room. Even Roylin himself was startled by his words and the bitter silence that ate at him pained his heart. The murmurs started up.

"Your splitting the gang?" Leroy asked, his hushed voice cold. Roylin nodded, his words dying in his tightened throat.

"Why man?" Curtis asked cutting in.

"Cuz bein' bad ain't so good as it used to be," he replied simply.

"Whatcha sayin', man?" Fetch asked.

"I'm sayin' dat the Vipers are through. If y'all wanna make up y'all own gang and start a new one den fine, but I ain't gonna be a part of it." Roylin turned to leave but was held back by a strong hand yanking him back by his shoulder, their cold breath lingering on his neck.

"You know the penalty fo' leavin'." He shuddered slightly, responding with one shaky nod and an answer hanging on his tongue.

"I accept." Instantly, Curtis and Fetch restrained Roylin by his arms, urging for Leroy to begin the proceedings as the new leader of the Vipers. Swallowing dryly, braced himself for the upcoming blow. Leroy's first punch landed on Roylin's taut stomach, causing him to grunt in pain. It was strong enough to knock all of the air out of his lungs. Curtis and Fetch shoved Roylin to the floor and rushed forward to beat him, spit on him, punch, kick scratch, and mock him. The incessant blows were powerful, taking a small portion of his life with each merciless touch. Through his swollen eyes, he could see Leroy staring at him from the corner of the room, his teeth biting down on his lip and his fists clenched. Shaking his head, he slipped away into the shadows. Roylin wasn't sure why he decided to do this, why he wanted to split up the gang so suddenly without thinking about it. He began to wonder if this was worth it.

Of course it is... He thought to himself.

He had forgotten his reason for wanting to change. It was for Angel to be proud of him, to make him feel the warm sensation of pride, so he could feel worthy to be in her presence. He wanted her to be proud of him. Even though the pain didn't seem like it was going to end, Roylin remained silent because he knew that in the end, it would all pay off. He wanted to run, to run to Angel and cry on her lap like Michael had did that day.

It was a crisp, spring morning and Roylin was meandering the streets of Brooklyn with the face of a man who was going to his hanging, his fists jammed into the pockets of his worn out jeans and his face shrouded with darkness from the hood he wore over his head. He spotted Angel sitting on her knees on the porch of her home, a peaceful expression settled over her delicate features. Her ebony hair was in two curly pigtails that day, tied with red pom poms that gave her a youthful essence about her. Smiling daintily, she reached over for a shirt and began to fold it leisurely as if she were meant to be careful. He felt his heart race once she turned to wave at him and his response was a slight toss of his head, his scowl still present. It was the first time they had ever interacted with each other. To him, she was nothing more than a student he saw occasionally at Palmdale. At that time, he cared nothing of her, seeing her as any other girl in the world but the more he saw her with that cheeky smile on her face, he grew more fond of her, constantly flirting with her to win her affection. He thought maybe if he could make her happy, he would be able to take away her sadness and put an end to it but it never seemed to work out for him. Michael was always the one there for her when Roylin was nowhere in sight. He hated himself for that and he hated Michael for winning something that he wanted.

Wanting to talk to her, Roylin took a step towards her then abruptly stopped once he saw Michael emerge from the front door, his face soaked with tears. Angel's head snapped up and their eyes locked.

Eyes smiling sadly... He thought to himself once he saw those pained emerald eyes.

He didn't know what was wrong with Michael that day but he knew that it must have been bad because him, a Rebel, one of the most intimidating thug who was feared throughout all of Brooklyn collapsed to his knees and sprawled over the girl's lap, blubbering like the crying child inside of him begging to escape. She didn't get annoyed, she didn't get mad, and she didn't brush him away. He watched in awe as she ran her hand through his ebony hair, a loving, tender gesture that was rarely witnessed in the world unless you knew the Wilsons. She had the comforting touch of a mother and the love of a giver who would do anything for others.

Roylin dragged his sleeve across his tear-rimmed eyes and sighed shakily. He wished that someone could touch him like that, to love him in such a way. He came from a cold household with two parents that constantly ignored him and siblings who bullied him. If he had a girl like Angel, he would be the happiest person alive but to his dismay, he didn't. Michael already beat him to her. For the first time in history, a Rebel had won victoriously against a Viper but Roylin wasn't ready to accept his defeat. He was going to do anything and everything to win her heart.

That day, Michael glared at Roylin until he was out of sight.

When Roylin opened his eyes, everything was bright as if the room was decorated with a thousand suns. Fighting the pain washing over him, he sat upright and found himself in the living room of an unfamiliar home.

"Oh great. Your awake," a soft, melodious voice drifted from behind him. He silently watched the girl walk around the couch to sit with him.

"You just got out of the hospital and you get into a fight?" she asked chuckling. Roylin tried to smile but his face was so battered up, it fell.

"Yeah. I quit my gang," he admitted and he felt so proud to be able to utter those words.

"Really? Congratulations!" she exclaimed, patting his back at his accomplishment. He nodded in agreement, smiling wearily at her.

"I did it fo' you, ya know?" She smiled.

"Oh really? Thanks. So, they beat you up because you wanted to quit?" she asked with a perplexed look in her eyes and when she cocked her head to the side like a clueless puppy, Roylin couldn't fight off the urge to chuckle.

"Yeah. Dat's the penalty. You want out, you get beat. It's how thangs work." Angel frowned at the remark.

"Gosh. That's awful. I'm sorry..." Crestfallen, she shook her head in shame, burying her face in her hands.

"It's ain't yo' fault. Besides, it was worth it." Their eyes met and they both smiled, "Um... Thanks, Angel. I've been wantin' to tell ya dis fo' awhile now and I think it's time that I tell ya how I feel." Angel nodded, straightening up her back.

"Okay."

"When I first met ya, I didn't think much of you." He winced slightly once he realized how harsh he had sounded.

"Oh?" she questioned.

"Naw, I mean I didn't really think dat I could actually socialize with you. When I first saw you dat day, I was thinkin', "Man. Who the hell is dat? Is she from 'round here?" and when you waved at me, I thought you was stupid."

"Gosh..."

"But then, I felt somethin' fuzzy...warm... I thought I was startin' to feel for you. When I saw Michael cry on you like dat, I thought you were gonna push him away or somethin', but you stayed with him till he stopped cryin'. I thought that maybe you knew him for a long time and dat you two were seein' each otha. I thought I had no chance with you but once I found out dat you weren't, I took my chance to start chasin' after you. The way you look at him tho'..." he sighed shakily, shaking his head, "I could never get you to look at me like dat. I kept tellin' myself dat dis wasn't real, dat I didn't like you in dat way but the feelin' just kept comin'. I kept tellin' myself that I liked you as I liked the otha gurls but den, today, I finally realized what I really wanted from you."

"What is that, Roylin?" Angel asked with a pleasant smile, her voice laced with patience and comfort. Roylin swam in the green depth of her glimmering eyes and smiled softly.

"A mother." Angel smiled and giggled softly in response.

"People always tell me that I'm like a doting mother." Roylin laughed.

"It's cuz you is, gurl." They both erupted into laughter.

"Well," Angel began in a gentle voice, "if you want me to be like a mother then I will with the best of my ability." Letting his tears fall, Roylin sprawled over her lap, sobbing and blubbering like the way Michael had did that day. He felt her hand run along his back in long, comforting strokes that softened his cries and gave him chills all over. He wasn't crying because of the pain in his body and he wasn't crying because he had lost the boys he had once called his friends. He was crying over the overwhelming sensation that everything was going to be okay.

"Thank you, Angel..."

Michael stepped out of the door of Benny's Corner with a bag full of the items Angel had requested then strode down the sidewalk, swinging the bag along with the long, graceful strides he took. It was a chilly night, something expected from the early month of July. As he hummed a tune in the pit of his throat, he saw a silhouette groggily ambling towards him. He abruptly stopped, narrowing his eyes at the figure. Smiling, he recognized them as Leroy.

"Hey, Leroy," he greeted him with a smile. He didn't respond but only continued to walk in his direction.

Leroy Daniels felt a cold hard metal sting in his hand and when he looked down, he saw that it was a gun. He didn't recall ever pulling it out of his pocket or even taking it from where it came from.  It was all a blur to him, a forgotten memory, but he did recall it's purpose. These bullets were meant to be pierced through his enemy's skull. All in a short amount of time, Michael had taken everything away from him and for that, Leroy wanted to put an end to him.

Die. Die. Die.

"Hey. No hard feelings about the fight, right?" Michael asked him. Leroy still didn't speak but only rose the gun higher so that it was aiming at Michael. Michael's gentle smile left in an instant and was replaced with a look of fear and shock.

"Leroy!" Michael exclaimed.

"You took everything away from me!" he shouted. He was so full of rage, he couldn't see anything anymore. Everything was a blur, delusional. His mind was spinning and his heart was racing in the heat of the moment. Michael stared at him strangely at the tears trickling down his flushed cheeks, the trembling hand that held the gun, and his quivering lips.

"Leroy," Michael began calmly in a soft voice, "you don't have to do this."

"Yes I do! You changed him! It's that damn girl y'all hangin' wit, isn't it? What's so special about her?!"

"Everything. You will understand if you take the chance to get to know her."

"I don't want to get to know her! I want her to rot in Hell!" Michael recoiled in horror. He had never seen Leroy this angry before. He had always been so carefree, so happy, like Angel. Now, he was acting like the old Michael, the one who was easily angered and untamable when he was blinded by hatred.

"Leroy, if you meet her, you won't regret it, I promise you that."

"I don't want to!" he shouted, heavy tears soaking his face.

"Leroy-?!"

"Shut up!" He shouted and the sound of a loud crackle of a gun being fired resounded in the still air. The bullet ripped through Michael and a rain of bullets showered down on him. The hot metal stung his skin and the only sound that could be heard was the loud thud of his body colliding with the cement and the small splash of his backside landing in his pool of blood. His body sprawled over the crimson pavement. Leroy's eyes widened and those around could hear him grow frantic over what he had done.

Oh no. This can't be happening. It just can't be. This is a dream, right? Why is it so dark? Why do I feel so cold? I can't feel anything. I'm not dying, am I? Angel. I can't leave her alone. This isn't the way to say goodbye. I can't leave her like this. If I'm gone, what's going to happen to her? My God... Who's going to protect her? God, don't take me away just yet. I have to protect her. She's not good at crying by herself. Her auditions are coming up. I promised her I wouldn't miss it. Oh God... Don't let me die.

His head lolled to the side and he saw Leroy rushing to his side. He could hear the distant noise of sirens wailing his way. A wave of his live's memories flashed in his mind; the hatred his parents expressed towards him with the brutal act of violence, meeting Mini Max that fateful day at the park, his first encounter with Angel and Jackie, the night he had been betrayed and arrested, the moment he had kissed Angel in her comatose state, his visit to Roylin's room, everything that made him cry tears of joy and pain. He wondered if he had loved Angel enough, if he showed that he cared about her.

Now I'm going to die with her not knowing how I feel. Maybe it's better this way. Oh, Angel. I love you so much. I'm so glad to have met you. I know all I do is cause you trouble but you still put up with me as if I weren't a bother. Did I love you enough? Are you happy? Is your smile still the same as it had always been? Do you know how much I care? I'm so sorry. Oh, Angel, I wanted to love you so much more. Why wasn't I able to tell you for so long? I have to chase after her, the one I love so deeply. I have something I want to tell her. Where are you?

In his mind, he could see her smiling pleasantly, hanging the white clothing on the clothesline on her laundry days. He could hear her small giggle escaping her lips as she sang a song that she had made up during these sort of times. He remembered the time he had accidentally put one of his red socks in the washer and turned all of his shirts pink. Laughing, he reported the news to both Jackie and Angel and received the sound of their beautiful chuckles.

Jackie. You'll protect her, won't you? Will you be there when she needs a shoulder to cry on? You did it for me. Will you do it for her too? Jackie, where are you? Somebody? Anybody? Where is everybody? Somebody protect her. She hates being alone. Somebody help her. If she gets lost, you have to find her and bring her back home. If she cries, stay with her and wipe her tears away. If your sad, cry together, with her. Don't let my baby suffer alone. Protect my treasure. Please, somehow, take my place. Finish what I started.

He could hear the muffled voices surrounding him and the gasps of shock filling the air. Amongst the voices, he could hear Leroy apologizing to him repeatedly at an incessant pace.

"...You..." Michael murmured.

Why would you do this to me? You know I protect her. I'm the only one who could do it, better than anyone. Let her be happy. Don't let her experience more sadness than she already has. Let her live to be the best. Don't hurt her. Don't let anyone hurt my baby. You better not hurt her. Don't go near her and if you do, it better be to block her from harm's way. You owe me. Protect her with your life. If you let anyone hurt my angel...

"...I will never forgive you..." With those words carved in his heart, Leroy abandoned him there. Those were the last words he heard before he heard a loud honk bounce off the walls. Michael wept as he felt his life slipping away from him, knowing that Angel wouldn't have anyone to protect her during his eternal absence.

That day I saw you at the door of that black room, I knew that you were truly an angel sent from Heaven. The day I met those emerald eyes was the day I fell in love with you. Each time I saw your smile or heard you laugh, it gave me another reason to be grateful for the life that I'm living. I love you. That's why I am so protective of you, why your the only girl I speak to. Maybe all my feelings do is hurt you but I can't stop myself from loving you. Even if I could I wouldn't. Happy things and sad things eventually come to an end but my love for you won't. My love for you is eternal. You do your best in your audition, my angel. Show everyone what your made of. Make your light shine and make me proud. Don't forget me. I'll tell your father that I had done my best.

"That's my friend! Let me through!" he heard a muffled voice shout.

Angel. She's here. I have to tell her. She needs to know how I feel. Where are you? I have to hear your voice, feel your touch, see that smile...

"Nngh...gel..." he managed to say but his hushed voice couldn't reach her. She shouldered through the murmuring tumult and stumbled to Michael's side, letting her knees buckle and her body to crumple to the ground, an overwhelming sensation of grief washing over her like a tidal wave. Her apprehensive eyes roamed over his body, drinking in on the horrid sight of the boy laying limp in his own pool of blood as if he were a doll cursed to never be able to move. She leaned down to his fragile body, not wanting to touch him in fear that she would break him. She ran her hand through his ebony hair that was now thickly drenched with his blood and when she studied her hand, it was dripping with crimson. The dam in her eyes broke instantly and she let her tears fall freely.

"Michael, can you hear me?" she sobbed. Michael felt as if someone had glued his eyelids together as he struggled to open them. His eyes fluttered open for several moments before quickly shutting again, drifting off into the verge of his eternal slumber.

Yes. I can hear you, Angel. Who's crying? No... Don't cry... Angel, don't cry. I'm right here. I'm still alive. Don't cry, girl. Your stronger than that. Don't cry anymore. It's okay.

Crystal tears were silver under the light of the moon and trickled down pale cheeks. Michael felt her cool tears pelt softly on his face and his tears joined as one with hers.

"This is all my fault," she sobbed, "I should have done my own errands."

If you did, then our fates would have been switched. Nothing is your fault. This isn't your doing.

"I'm so sorry, Michael... I'm such an idiot!"

You are not an idiot, Angel Wilson! You are the smartest person I know. Do you hear me? Can you hear me? Am I reaching you? Can you hear my voice? My heart cries out for you. Angel? Angel?

"Please live. If we can switch places, let's do it. Even if I'm not by your side... I'll do anything to make you live, just please don't go." He murmured inaudibly, his body stirring slightly.

"...ing..." he murmured.

"Michael?" His arm felt like it was made out of lead as he rose it off the cold ground. With all the strength he could muster, his hand reached up to her face and gently caressed her tears away. He managed to force an authentic, tiny smile.

"Just stop crying..." he said wearily, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Michael...?"

"I'm stubborn... I don't let go that easily..." Angel smiled at the words that managed to calm her nerves.

"Everything will be okay, my angel... Alright?" She quickly nodded in response, laying her hand over his.

"Okay, Michael." The paramedics hoisted him onto a stretcher and carried him into the back of the ambulance vehicle where they whisked him away to the hospital, praying that this boy would survive.