London, Oxford street


The next morning Amber woke up with the shrill sound of her alarm. She sleepily sat and stared at the wall in front of her. Did yesterday night really happen? Did she really agree to some dirty blackmail? Did she really allow herself to be that low? All of this because of his stupid looks. If she hadn't gave into him two days ago. If she had just played dumb. If she had just been stronger. Nothing would have happened. She could have gone full of excitement to the next rehearsal. Instead of spending the day with some heartless woman M. Styles chose as her new manager. Well, he was paying her £800 a day, it was making her feel a bit better.

The grey sky outside, mirroring Amber's mood. The red brick houses, slightly hidden by golden trees. The orange and crimson leafs woven with the dark brown, black branches. The old feeling, but the new concrete on the street destroying the scenery. Amber didn't own a car. Simply because she couldn't afford it. But walking was refreshing, the wind turning her nose red and flushed her cheeks. The nice warm tingling feeling on your cheeks you get home. She only lived in Great Britain for ten years now. She moved to royal ballet boarding school from France when she was 9. She was one of the youngest dancers, but not the youngest. Almost average in her group. Her parents didn't mind, they supported her dream. Although they probably thought she would drop out after a few months.

She admired her muscular feet, as she stepped out of her bed. Shaped and sculpted through the years. Amber remembered her first ballet class. She was 6, when her parents put her into "les rats de l'Opera" in Paris. Her teacher was harsh, the piano old, the parquet slippery. But she loved it. Even at her young age, she was trained, forced, injured. But it didn't discourage her. Her feet used to be small, a little pink. Nothing like her dry and bloody actual feet. She ran her hands down her legs, just to feel her smooth skin. She wasn't allowed to have any hairs, and cold wax hurts like hell. She missed being a child, and not having to bother about such trivial matter. But it wasn't the time to be nostalgic she had long boring day ahead.

Only an hour later Amber was walking down Oxford street, where all the posh boutiques are. It was only half past nine, and she was craving for more sleep. The agent, a woman however was already there, ready and alert. In her tight black suit and sky high heels. How could she walk in these all day, Amber wondered. The contrast between the two was drastic. Amber was wearing old snickers, tight black jeans and a lose top underneath her warm black jacket. Her hair was still a bit messy and no make up was covering her dark circles under her eyes. The woman looked at her with a distrustful glance. That is way too much work, the agent thought to herself.

First she had to go through make up, hair, nails, skin. This was a mess, how could she ever look like business woman. Sure she was graceful in the ballet two nights ago. But she didn't deserve all the attention M. Styles gave her. She should stay on the stage with the other "artists" and stay out of the real world. But no matter how she felt, she had to follow his orders. Therefor she brought Amber to the beauty parlor, hoping they would rip everything out and leave her with red marks. In the changing room she threw a quick glance at her skin, it seemed white and smooth, without any imperfections. Even the swift scars seemed beautifully drawn on her body. As thin detail lining her muscles. She hated her.

Seeing her emotionless face next to her just annoyed the agent even more. Amber seemed to glide through everything, emitting a respectful aura. She seemed to be over the fray surrounding her. Not caring about anything. She didn't ask any questions. But her glance still intimated the agent. She seemed powerful, even with her snickers or half naked. Jealousy rose in the woman's chest. She knew exactly why her boss had chosen her. She was a perfect representative for a weapon Enterprise. Cold, respected, emotionless and unforgettable.

"- Now that you are presentable", the agent was hoping to get a reaction out of Amber, "we have go through different shops. You need formal dresses, suits, tailored skirts, shirts, heels, bags, accessories, even underwear.", the agent wasn't allowed to be bitchy but if she could, she would have brought hell upon Amber. She was so perfect with her imperfections.

"- Sure", Amber simply answered not giving a damn and yearning for dance class.

Notes

Hey guys ^^ so here's chapter 15

how do you think the story is going t o unfold?
what is Harry going to do to her ?


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