Dance Central-angel Novels & Stories

chides Angel. “I-I don’t, I mean I do.. I was just curious, that’s all” I stammered as Caleb and her laughed. “Relax, he’s probably just done for the night” admits Angel who never really paid attention to the door handler as she smiles. “If you say so,” is all I say as we move to approach the elevator before beginning our long descent up. Why does Angel live on the 10th floor? Groaning all we can do is wait.

Sincerly, Angel Franco

Grant arched his brow and said, “It’s not your job to take care of us.” Angel laughed and said evenly “I’ve heard that once before today.” She was in the middle of chopping an onion for whatever she had cooking on the stove when her cell rang. She snapped it up and answered “Hello, Angel speaking.” She seemed to listen more than she talked with a lot of uh huh and okays. Then she said “Okay, yea I can be there tonight.” Before hanging up at which point Grant asked, “Be where?” Angel looked up, she’d forgotten she had a security detail for a minute and said, “At Angelo’s tonight, my father wants me to have dinner with him.” Grant nodded absently and said, “You should be safe enough inside the

There was line dancing in the center of the room. Angel was out there. She had on a gray tank top, cowboy boots, and denim shorts. If her shorts were any shorter, you could see her who-ha! “I see my friends over there. They have a table.” Matt pointed out. “Hey guys! Chey this is Chance. Chance, this is Chey my girlfriend.” Matt introduced. “Nice to meet you ma'am.” Chance replied. “Nice to meet you too.” Chey replied.

Castle. I should’ve looked away. I should’ve shut off the feed the second I saw Angel step onto the dance floor with that man on his arm. I should’ve turned off the security footage before it seared itself into my skull. But I didn’t. Instead, I stood there, watching from the screen in my office, fists clenched at my sides as Angel danced with that pathetic excuse of a man—touching him, groping him, moving like his body was made for someone else's hands.

🍒Angela 🍒 And as if a sudden realization hit my mind, my eyes grew big. Was this...? "C'mon Angel, I didn't plan this for myself," he spoke, leaning towards my ear, "but if you still want to stay close, we can still go back home and--"

Celina replied too quickly. Annoyed that he had to bring up the girl's name. "What do you mean she's not here?" West asked, confused. Greg sighed inwardly. He had seen enough of Mr West's daughters for tonight and made to politely tell him that he would meet her some other time when... "Ah, there she is." West said, obviously excited at seeing his third daughter. Sighing again, Greg absently turned to see whoever she was. Time stood still and his breath got caught in his chest when he beheld the angelic young woman that paused on the stairs some distance away from them, her eyes scanning the room looking for someone...looking for him, he wished, to his own surprise.

I muttered, and helped Angel up on her butt. The doctor arched her eyebrows. “You call that trying your best? Come on, you're excellent at this, your kids will be even luckier to have you as their father.” The way back to the hotel was rather quiet. “Is everything alright, babe?” I queried with a frown on my face. Angel stared out the window. “I want to go to the beach, and dance. I don't feel sexy wearing this.” She picked her dress’ fabric with her nails. As much as I wanted to laugh, I didn't want to get into her bad books.

The tension in the room was palpable, even Damon seemed uneasy. Angel rose slowly from her seat, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence of Damon's office. With each step, her heart pounded louder, matching the rhythm of her anxious thoughts. As she approached Damon's desk, she felt the weight of the envelope in her trembling hands, a physical manifestation of the burden she carried. "All this time," Angel began, her voice betraying her nerves, "You thought my brother-in-law, Mason, was the only one trying to destroy you. But the truth is, Mason was never alone in this plan. Arabella helped him every step of the way."

It's what we call the weekend crowd, bachelor parties, business dinners gone wild, couples looking for excitement. The lights are low except for the stage, which glows like a blue gem in the center of the room. Red and purple and gold, all designed to make everything look softer, dreamier, more fantasy than reality. I'm waiting backstage, rolling my shoulders and checking if my heels are secure, when the DJ's voice booms over the speakers. "Gentlemen and ladies, put your hands together for the angel who'll make you believe in heaven... ANGEL!" That's my stage name. Angel. The irony isn't lost on me.