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Zayn, Dax, York, they’re my ride or die. The choices I make are for those motherfuckers, my brothers. Every damn time.
When we were kids our crew gave us purpose and dance held us steady, it gave us an outlet that didn’t end in violence. We tried so fucking hard to fight the inevitable, and for a time we stayed out of trouble. We were the best dance crew in London, and when Pen joined us, we became a goddamn family. That tiny little girl who’d walked into our basement battered, bruised and with balls of steel, had done something no other girl could. She made us love her. With her by our side we found solace in dance. Peace. We formed a bond that meant something, that meant fucking everything, and over time our
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She taught us how to love, and then she broke our fucking hearts. I told her that we’d returned to reclaim what’s ours. She believes that’s her. She’s wrong. I let her destroy us once before. There i...
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We aren’t the boys she once loved anymore. They’re dead. And when we’re done, a part of her will be too.
