Let Go
Chapter 1-The Meating
*Cecilia’s POV*
I pushed the button and patiently waited for the elevator to come. I was only going to the third floor from the second, but my knee was killing me. I had just got done with an 18 hour dance practice and I was dieing. It was noon and I was ready to sleep for 3 days. The elevator dropped me of on the third floor and I was automatically overtaken by the heat. The dance studio I was in was huge. It might have well have been a school. It was 3 story's tall with 15 large dance rooms, a full scale stage (to practice for competitions), and about 100 dressing rooms that were each decently sized. All the dressing rooms were on the third floor wail the stage and two dance practice rooms were in the main floor and the rest of the practice rooms located on the second floor. They always kept the third floor at 80 degrees witch felt good before you danced but after, when you were already hot and sweaty, you felt like you were dieing.
I quickly made my way to my dressing room. I couldn’t wait to get home and sleep. I reached my door and took of my lanyard so I could use the key. I quickly unlocked the door, walk in, and closed the door behind me. I looked around the room. It wasn’t much but for the past two years it was practically my home. In the right back corner was a shower next to it was a vanity table with makeup lying all over. Along the left side of the wall what's the rolling racks of clothes in to and dance costumes. Along the right was a small black couch with a blanket and pillow (from where I had slept earlier that day when I had a 2 hour break), a full length mirror, and a cupboard. I opened the big black metal cupboard it was about 5 feet wide and 3 feet deep. I looked inside the cupboard that was split into 2 sides. On the right side was my kitchen, it was equipped with a microwave and a mini fridge that was full of water and Gatorade. It also had four shelves what was packed with many kinds of fruit and protein bars. On the left side there were 3 drawers and 3 shelves. The two drawers consisted of more makeup hair accessories and jewelry. On the shelves for many things, athletic tape, pre wrap, notebooks, text books, a laptop, and towels.
I grab a towel in my laptop and close the cupboards I headed over to the couch sat down taking the SD card out of the camera that I was holding. I put the SD card into the laptop. I always recorded my practice is so that I could see how I was improving (that’s what was on the SD card). I put the SD card into the laptop. I was debating with myself on if I should take a shower; if I didn't look too bad then I could wait until I got home and slept a little. I looked at myself in the full length mirror. My skin that was usually tan was caked in sweat and dust (in one of my dances we have to roll on the floor a lot.) My brown hair that use to be in a bun on the top of my head now laying all over my face. I looked at my body; my legs are long and muscular legs stuck down out of my spandex. My arms were also muscular, and my abs was showing from under my purple sports bra. My boobs are medium sized and my but is round and firm. My plump lips were light pink and my hazel eyes, that look almost green, stayed back at me from under thick black lashes. I didn't think I was very good looking but I didn't think I was ugly, I thought I was just average. I had a few boyfriends throughout the years, and im always called drop dead gorgeous but I never believe them. I decided I should probably take a shower.
I just finished washing out the conditioner for my hair when I heard my phone go off. I quickly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel my body quickly walking to my phone. It was Stan. Why was Stan calling me! It was a Saturday day and I never work on the weekends so why is my Bose calling? "Hello?" I answered. "How was practice" the elderly man asked me. "Stan you know I love you but what do you want?" I asked impatiently. "Well someone's in a mood. Did you catch the game last night?" "Stan I swear to god! If you don’t get to the point soon I will hang up!” I yelled starting to dry my hair. "Fine. You don’t need to give me attitude. A group just came in and asked to sit in the student serve section. I told them that I would try to get someone in. I called you because I know u could use the extra money." I stood still. He was asking me to work on a weekend? Stan owned a very famous restaurant in downtown London. On the weekends he closed down and only served famous people. Usually only he and his four teenage boys worked on the weekends. Now he was asking me to come serve someone. “Cecilia, are you still there.” “Yes!” I said almost screaming, “Im still on campuses and have to get dressed. Tell them ill are there in 10 to 15 minutes.” And with that I hung up.
I quickly dried my hair and pulled on an outfit I had laid on the couch before I got in the shower. I went to the cupboard and put the camera back in, wail grabbing a backpack that was sitting on the floor. I put my laptop, a notebook, pencil, math textbook, pre wrap, athletic tape, and water and some food in my bag. I ran to my vanity, and put on a small bit of makeup. I grabbed some jewelry and my layered of the table. I struggled to put my boots on as I walked out the door, locking it behind me. (I was wearing this, http://www.polyvore.com/wave/set?id=67684112). I hurried to the elevator. Once I was in I tied my boot and put on my jewelry. I finally got a cab and told him the address as I did my hair. I impatiently taped my foot. The campus was located on the outside of the downtown and would take about 10 minutes to work. I quickly overlook my outfit to see if it looked good enough to see someone famous.
I finally got to the restaurant; paid the man and ran inside. On my way in I grabbed my note pad to write-down the orders. I looked around to find the group. They were in the corner booth in the back. I quickly walked over to them as I through my backpack into the booth next to them. I took two more steps and tripped, face planting right in front of there table. The grouped busted into laughter as I looked up to see One Direction.
I pushed the button and patiently waited for the elevator to come. I was only going to the third floor from the second, but my knee was killing me. I had just got done with an 18 hour dance practice and I was dieing. It was noon and I was ready to sleep for 3 days. The elevator dropped me of on the third floor and I was automatically overtaken by the heat. The dance studio I was in was huge. It might have well have been a school. It was 3 story's tall with 15 large dance rooms, a full scale stage (to practice for competitions), and about 100 dressing rooms that were each decently sized. All the dressing rooms were on the third floor wail the stage and two dance practice rooms were in the main floor and the rest of the practice rooms located on the second floor. They always kept the third floor at 80 degrees witch felt good before you danced but after, when you were already hot and sweaty, you felt like you were dieing.
I quickly made my way to my dressing room. I couldn’t wait to get home and sleep. I reached my door and took of my lanyard so I could use the key. I quickly unlocked the door, walk in, and closed the door behind me. I looked around the room. It wasn’t much but for the past two years it was practically my home. In the right back corner was a shower next to it was a vanity table with makeup lying all over. Along the left side of the wall what's the rolling racks of clothes in to and dance costumes. Along the right was a small black couch with a blanket and pillow (from where I had slept earlier that day when I had a 2 hour break), a full length mirror, and a cupboard. I opened the big black metal cupboard it was about 5 feet wide and 3 feet deep. I looked inside the cupboard that was split into 2 sides. On the right side was my kitchen, it was equipped with a microwave and a mini fridge that was full of water and Gatorade. It also had four shelves what was packed with many kinds of fruit and protein bars. On the left side there were 3 drawers and 3 shelves. The two drawers consisted of more makeup hair accessories and jewelry. On the shelves for many things, athletic tape, pre wrap, notebooks, text books, a laptop, and towels.
I grab a towel in my laptop and close the cupboards I headed over to the couch sat down taking the SD card out of the camera that I was holding. I put the SD card into the laptop. I always recorded my practice is so that I could see how I was improving (that’s what was on the SD card). I put the SD card into the laptop. I was debating with myself on if I should take a shower; if I didn't look too bad then I could wait until I got home and slept a little. I looked at myself in the full length mirror. My skin that was usually tan was caked in sweat and dust (in one of my dances we have to roll on the floor a lot.) My brown hair that use to be in a bun on the top of my head now laying all over my face. I looked at my body; my legs are long and muscular legs stuck down out of my spandex. My arms were also muscular, and my abs was showing from under my purple sports bra. My boobs are medium sized and my but is round and firm. My plump lips were light pink and my hazel eyes, that look almost green, stayed back at me from under thick black lashes. I didn't think I was very good looking but I didn't think I was ugly, I thought I was just average. I had a few boyfriends throughout the years, and im always called drop dead gorgeous but I never believe them. I decided I should probably take a shower.
I just finished washing out the conditioner for my hair when I heard my phone go off. I quickly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel my body quickly walking to my phone. It was Stan. Why was Stan calling me! It was a Saturday day and I never work on the weekends so why is my Bose calling? "Hello?" I answered. "How was practice" the elderly man asked me. "Stan you know I love you but what do you want?" I asked impatiently. "Well someone's in a mood. Did you catch the game last night?" "Stan I swear to god! If you don’t get to the point soon I will hang up!” I yelled starting to dry my hair. "Fine. You don’t need to give me attitude. A group just came in and asked to sit in the student serve section. I told them that I would try to get someone in. I called you because I know u could use the extra money." I stood still. He was asking me to work on a weekend? Stan owned a very famous restaurant in downtown London. On the weekends he closed down and only served famous people. Usually only he and his four teenage boys worked on the weekends. Now he was asking me to come serve someone. “Cecilia, are you still there.” “Yes!” I said almost screaming, “Im still on campuses and have to get dressed. Tell them ill are there in 10 to 15 minutes.” And with that I hung up.
I quickly dried my hair and pulled on an outfit I had laid on the couch before I got in the shower. I went to the cupboard and put the camera back in, wail grabbing a backpack that was sitting on the floor. I put my laptop, a notebook, pencil, math textbook, pre wrap, athletic tape, and water and some food in my bag. I ran to my vanity, and put on a small bit of makeup. I grabbed some jewelry and my layered of the table. I struggled to put my boots on as I walked out the door, locking it behind me. (I was wearing this, http://www.polyvore.com/wave/set?id=67684112). I hurried to the elevator. Once I was in I tied my boot and put on my jewelry. I finally got a cab and told him the address as I did my hair. I impatiently taped my foot. The campus was located on the outside of the downtown and would take about 10 minutes to work. I quickly overlook my outfit to see if it looked good enough to see someone famous.
I finally got to the restaurant; paid the man and ran inside. On my way in I grabbed my note pad to write-down the orders. I looked around to find the group. They were in the corner booth in the back. I quickly walked over to them as I through my backpack into the booth next to them. I took two more steps and tripped, face planting right in front of there table. The grouped busted into laughter as I looked up to see One Direction.
Notes
Sorry for any errors. Please coment what you think. Im writing chapter 2 now.~M
Your a really good writer and i'm not one to criticize but its LSA not LST it's london school of the arts there is no such thing is london school of talent
11/16/14