????HIS BALLERINA????
THEME: {What the heart sees}
✍️Written By Precious Pinky✍️
???? Chapter Forty-Two ????
~Lucky Halls~
????ACE????
He stared at himself in the mirror.
Who was he?
He doesn’t even know.
The guy staring at him right was just… different.
He was different from the guy he have always wanted to be while growing up as a kid.
The guy staring at him was broken… hurt… sad… in pain… he was the guy.
….the broken guy.
*Honestly… i wish to see you smile. Even if it’s just for one moment.* Her words echoed in his head as he kept staring at himself.
….his broken self.
Why can’t he be happy?
Why can’t he just smile and for just one moment, forget about the pain?
Why can’t he be like her? She was broken, just like him but yet smile like everything was okay.
He admires her for that.
He wanted to be like that also but can’t.
*I can’t.* He had said to her.
*I hope you can just smile for me.* She smiled. *Like this.*
Can he?
Ace stretched his li-ps in attempt to smile but it came out all awkward and weird… in other words, it was completely awful.
He sighed in depressed, running his hands throu-ghhis hair and letting it fall to his face.
He can’t.
He can’t smile.
He doesn’t even know how to do it.
Her smiling face flashed in his head again. *Like this.*
He tried smiling again but it came out all awful and awkward.
He looked like a psychopath smiling over the sight of blood…. yes, it was that bad.
His phone started ringing, disrupting his moment of stupidity and awkwardness.
He can’t believe he’s practicing how to smile because of her. Just her. The one girl that seem to turn his life upside down.
He picked up his phone and answered the call.
“Who is this?” He placed the phone over his ear, walking away from the mirror and went closer to the huge glas-swindow.
“Sir, it’s me.” Hannah’s voice came throu-ghthe other line.
“What do you want, Harry?” He asked, using a wrong name to address her.
“It’s Hannah, sir.” She corrected him.
“Whatever. What is it?” He said rudely.
“You have a meeting within ten minute, sir.”
“A meeting? Is it important?”
“Yes sir.”
He let out another sigh. “I will be right there.” With that said, he hung up the call. He picked up his suit jacket, car keys then walked out of his room.
As soon as he descended the stairs, his mother appeared in front of him, holding a cup of tea and an envelope was at her other hand.
“You need to have this.” She stretched the cup of tea towards him.
*What if the memory you have of you mother isn’t wrong? What if there’s something you seem to know about her but can’t just put it in place?* Ballerina’s word rang in his hand.
What if she’s right.
He can’t be crazy. The memory he have of his mother can’t be all wrong, can it?
“I don’t want it.” He said, walking past her and was headed for the door when she came to stand in front of him again. “What do you_”
“These came for you.” She cuts him off, handing the envelope over to him.
“What?”
“I don’t know what it is but it came in this morning. Richa-rd brou-ght it to me.”
Ace stared down at the envelope, his brows were knitted in complete confusion.
Who could have sent this to him? That was the first question that popped out of his head.
_
_
_
He got into the car, turned on the ignition and drove off.
He drove past every familiar road then finally came to a stop in the parking lot of his company.
He alighted from the car and walked inside the company. Every staff greeted him but he gave answer to none.
He entered the elevator and pressed the floor he was headed. He was alone in the suffocating room, not like he was complaining. His phone started ringing, he stared down at the caller ID, her smiling face displayed on his phone screen.
He answered the call and brou-ght the phone to his ear.
“Belle.” He called softly.
“Wait, did you just call me by a nickname?” She said, jokingly. He could tell she was smiling.
How the hell does she do that?
“Whatever. What’s up?”
“Are you busy?”
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“Oh. Um,” She clears her throat. “Can we meet tonight?”
“I hope there is no problem?”
“Hey, we agreed to meet, remember?”
He thought for a while before saying. “I can’t.”
“What!? You can’t come?” She sounded pretty offended.
“No. I mean, I can’t remember the both of us having that conversation.” He quickly corrected.
“That means you are coming, right?”
“Um… I…”
She cuts him off. “Alright then, see you tomorrow, A.” She giggled before hanging the call.
The ride slowly came to a stop, it dinged before the door opened, revealing a smiling Hannah.
Ace stood still, staring down at his phone.
Why was his heart racing fast?
He has never felt this way before, si what the hell was going on?
Was he sick?
“Sir?” Hannah called out.
He jerked back to reality. He dropped his phone in his pan-ts pocket and walked out of the elevator, taking a very de-ep breath.
“Good morn…”
“Where are they?” He cuts her off, rudely.
Hannah wasn’t surprise there. She was use to his rude behavior.
“In the board room, sir.”
“Hmm.” He hummed, walking towards the room alongside Hannah.
_
_
_
????PAULO????
“You like him, don’t you?” Paulo teased.
“Shut up.” She gro-aned, dropping her phone in her bag. “Do you think he will ever change?” She asked after a while of silence.
He stared at her, raising a questioning brow at her. “What?”
She sighed, lowering her gaze down. “I really want him to smile, you know?”
Him too.
He wants his friend to be happy again.
He wants to see him smile.
Ace has suffered for the sin he did not commit.
He hardly eats.
He rarely talks to anyone _it’s quite a surprise he has been talking recently_
He only drinks and gets drunk.
And still, his features, that is, his looks, body and every thing looks great. No one would know that the guy is suffering himself with food.
He pity him.
Maybe that’s one of the reasons why he’s looking for that fu-cking murderer. Because that’s the only way his friend could be better again.
He look at Ballerina, smiling. Maybe she was the only way to make his friend better again.
“Then make him smile, Princess. Make him happy. Give him that life he have never experienced since his father death.”
“But how?” She asked.
“I will tell you.” He a-ssured her.
_
_
_
Knock knock knock!
There was no answer.
Knock knock knock!
Still no answer.
Knock knock knoc_
The door was pulled open to reveal a young handsome guy.
“How may I help you?” He asked Paulo, raising a questioning brow at him.
Paulo had decided to come alone to him just in case he might recognize Ballerina and tell Heather.
Right now, Ballerina was in the car waiting for him.
“Are you Lucky Halls?” Paulo asked him.
“Yeah. But who are you?”
“I’m detective Paulo.” He stretched out his hand for a handshake.
“Uh… Hi.” Lucky shook hands with him but the confusion were evident in his face. “Um, what is a detective doing at my doorstep? Is there a problem?”
“Not exactly. You didn’t do anything wrong but you might know something that can help me out in an investigation.”
“Investigation? What are you talking about?”
Can I at least come in?”
Lucky hesitate for a while before nodding his head and stepping away from the door so Paulo could enter.
He walked inside and sat down opposite from each other.
“Want me to get you something?”
“Nah. I’m good.” Paulo stated. “Anyway, I’m here to ask you something and I expect you to give me a honest reply.”
“What is it, detective?”
Paulo dipped his hands in his pan-ts pocket and brou-ght out two necklaces _silver and gold_ then handed it over to Lucky.
“I heard this two necklaces are the only jewelry in New York City. And something like this can’t be gotten again. Right?” He asked.
“Yeah. How… how did you get it?” Lucky questioned, his gaze were fixed on the silver one.
“Which of them, Lucky? The gold? or the silver?”
Lucky slowly pointed at the silver. “That. I got that for my girlfriend. So how come are you with it?”
“The silver is what you got for your girlfriend?” Paulo asked.
“Yes.”
“What about the gold?”
“I don’t know about that gold. But why are you with my girlfriend’s necklace.”
“Don’t worry, Heather didn’t cheat on you… but…”
“Wait, Heather?”
“Isn’t that your girlfriend’s name? Heather, the personal maid of the princess?”
He slowly shook his head. “No. Heather is not my girlfriend.”
“What? How… how is that possible? I mean… wait, if Heather is not your girlfriend… then who is?”
“Eva.”
*
*
*
#To Be Continued…