Kitty-yes you can start. They will just have to pick up wherever we are when they start. I'll go ahead and start it.
Deirdre:
"And one, two, three, four..." Deirdre paused, her left leg in second position, mid turn. She stared at the mirror on the wall, her breathing deep. Her long red hair that had been pulled tight against her head in a neat bun had come loose, leaving wispy curls to lay against her cheek. She sighed and returned to standing postion. Relaxing she walked over to the bench and sat down, stretching her arms above her head. She had been up since three that morning, practicing for her audition today. Her nerves, jittery, had calmed to a soothing buzz.
She stood again, walking to the mirror and studied her profile. Standing five foot three inches, she barely meet the requirements. Her face was delicate, fine boned and exotic. Her red hair was a stunning contrast to the deep blue of her eyes, which were set off by the rosy color of her full lips. her nose was small and petite. A long slim neck led to slender shoulders and a petite waist. Her slim hands with their long fingers and neat short clipped nails. Her legs were long for her height, but they were finely muscled and slender, which led to her slender high arched feet. Glancing again at her face, Deirdre raised her hand and traced to contours of her cheeks. You coudl faintly make out the scar that led from the middle of her right eye to the corner of her mouth. Normally make-up would cover any traces of it, but like today, she didn't wear any, due to the strenuous workout of ballet. Swallowing, she let her hand fall away and turned to reach in her bag. Straightening, she pulled her excercise pants out and slipped them on. She tossed her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door, flipping the light to the studio on the way.
"Today's the day Dee." she told herself, as she stepped onto the sidewalk. The sun was just starting to rise, but already the streets were starting to crowd. Just another day in New York City.
Marissa It was going to be a long day she knew. Audition day, the las time she had gone to an audition was three years ago when she auditioned for a part in Giselle and thanks to the great mercy of God she had gotten it. But now it was different, she wasn't auditioning for just some random local theater, she was auditioning for her university. This had been her dream ever since she was a very little girl, and now she was close to it finally.
Marissa placed her hands on the bar and started with the plies and releves first, but she was nervous, too nervous to keep her legs from trembling as she did her exercises. Ok, Marissa chill, you can do it. She thought, that wasn't working bar work wasn't working, so she left the bar and turned on the radio. It was time to dance, it was time to let herslef go and be the ballerina she always wanted to be. So she started. Bourre, plie a la second, piroutte...
And she continued like that until it was time to rest, and prepare herself to the audition. Her feet were swollen but she knew it had all being worth it, those beautiful arcs she loved where the product of years and hours and hours of work. Hours she knew, she had to demonstrate today at her audition.
Allen His radio was turned a little bit to high so that he was unable to hear himself playing. Sometimes it did work for him, but today he was a bit too on the edge to bear something like that get in his way. So he turned the volume down completely and started again with his guitar, a Gibson acoustic that his father had given to him when he was just fifteen. He had more, three electric and two acoustics, that one included, but that one was the one he loved the most. So he started again playing, what was he playing? Oh yeah, a baroque piece he had being practicing.
It was eight thirty o'clock, he had been up ever since four in the morning. He exercised first, took a shower and went to his guitar. Sometimes he wondered why he never got tired of playing, maybe it was because he loved it too much. So he continued playing, over and over, until he forgot about his nerves and the song came out perfect. This is the day Allen you can do it. He thought to himself once he finished.
There was no one at home that day so he just packed his guitar and things, and went out the house. Well, it was a decent morning in New York, at least a morning that meant success for him.
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'autonne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Verlaine
"I've come so faaar," Jessie sang softly as she pulled on her stripy socks. She caught a glance of her face in the mirror and winked. "And I'm not your girl anymore. And today I'm gonna prove it, yes today I'm gonna break through these baaars." With a happy grin, she wriggled her toes and then started putting on her shoes and hummed a few more lines. Her parents were out already, hard at work, and her younger sister was staying at their aunt's for the day. Usually Jessie would look after her but not today. No. Today she was going to show the world what she had.
"I hope I make it, I couldn't bare to be where you arrrre. But if I don't, if I fail and I break it, I know that I'll still be your little staaaar. Is it wrong to want mooore?" She shook her head at the reflection in her mirror, the curls of hair in their usual disarray and her skin smooth and brown like coffee. Grabbing her bag and swinging it over her shoulder, Jessie set off at a brisk walk. She didn't want to be late. She couldn't afford to be late, she needed every advantage she could get.
And then she was there and she didn't know what to do. The receptionist gave her a form and sent her into a large room filled with so many other teenagers. She felt faint with nerves. There were so many! She was competing against all of these children for her place? But she had to have it. It was hers. She'd worked so far and...
"Huh?"
"I said do you need a pen?" The boy rolled his eyes and held one out. Jessie blushed. She had one with her but nodded and took it anyway, it would save her fumbling through her bag.
Concentrate...Breathe...Now arbesque. Dierdre executed the move while breathing deeply. Turning, she raised her left leg high in the air and dipped low to the ground, her right arm moving to cup her side. One, two, three, four. Keep going. Attitude in pointe.Five, six, seven, eight. Now avant. Pause, breathe. Deirdre closed her eyes, her chin tilting towards the ceiling as she crossed her ankles and sunk low to the ground, then jumped back up, her legs opening wide in the air. Landing, she executied a battement lent and paused, her chest beginning to tighten. She could feel her heart pounding as she slowly slid into a half split, her right leg stretching out in front of her with her left behind her. Her arms raided above her head, she leaned forward to cup her foot. Resting for three beats she slowly sat up, her righ tleg curling behind her. She moved her hands in a flowing move as she raised them to the sky. She opened her eyes.
And gasped. Behind her stood a tall guy. She swallowed and rose from her sitting position. Turning, she walked to her bag and grabbed her shorts and began to pull them on.
"Don't stop." he spoke with a thick accent, taking a step towards her. She paused, then pulled her shorts on. Straightening, she smiled nervously.
"I was just finishing up. I'll just go now." She bent to pick up her bag, then stood, letting the strap fall over her shoulder.
"You don't have to leave." he whispered. "Come dance with me." Her breath caught in her throat. Could he really want to dance with her? Swallowing, she slid her bag off her shoulder and stepped towards his outstretched hand. Laying her hand in his she closed her fingers against his calloused hand. What was she doing? She didn't even know the guy. She quikly scanned his face, then let her gaze roam down. He was a dancer, she could tell. He was older than her too. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she paused and looked into his eyes. They were a deep amber, and almond shaped.
He was amazed by the amount of kids waiting, it was incredible how many talented people there was. It was such an awkward atmosphere for him, but he couldn't let the nerves take over for this was the chance he had been waiting all his life. So he went to the receptionist and started felling out the form. As he was writing, he saw the pen in his hand tremble as he did. Come on, Allen, you're been stupid now, he thought trying to concentrate as he wrote.
And after a while of fighting with himself he did it, he finished and handed out the paper. But before he turned and went away, he noticed a girl by his side, with the paper but no pen.
"Do you need a pen?" He asked her. He waited for the answer but apparently she was a bit too distracted. "Excuse me" He said again.
"Huh?" Well that worked for an answer although it wasn't what he expected.
"I said do you need a pen?" Allen said, rolling his eyes and hading her the one he had. The girl seemed to hesitate for a while before taking it.
"Thanks" She said, "I'm Jessi Holmes"
"Allen Matthews and nice to meet you" Allen said stretching out his hand to her and shaking it with hers. She seemed nice, but he was a little to nervous to start a conversation. On normal occasions he would have asked her everything by now, but he could only think of the right chords for his song. He knew he had to speak for lingering there would have made him look awkward.
"So you come for music, theater..." But Jessi interrupted him before he finished.
"Music definitely and you?" Jessi asked with a wide quiet nervous smile.
"Music too."
Marissa
The place was crowded, she never imagined that it was going to be so hard to do it. There were girls and boys everywhere, all striving for the same place, all fighting to succeed and have their once in a lifetime opportunity, but for her it was more than that. So she sat in a bench and started to change her clothes. Her leotard was already on and her tights were on as well, so all she needed were her pointe shoes, her pink Gaynor Minden shoes.
Oh, God, please, please, help me, she kept repeating to herself as she stretched in the small space the other girls had left. She breather in and out, trying to relax, remembering what her former teacher had told her about these situations. But as she did so, she remembered what was her goal, be the best, the absolute best and be able to work for the New York City Ballet Theater. So her mind was set in that now, and hoped that nothing went wrong.
"Hey" She hear someone say, interrupting her from her relaxation.
"Hey" Marissa said back.
"Umm, I'm Brandon, I was wondering where's the reception" He said with a bright smile that by the way looked awesome.
"I'm Marissa, Marissa Ericksen" She said shaking hands with him.
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'autonne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Verlaine
I am nothing but a mouthful of 'sorry's, half-hearted apologies that roll of my tongue, smoothquick, like 'r's or maybe like pocket candy that's just a bit too sweet.
Dance. Just watching her move made the rhythm shoot up through his legs, through his torso, through his arms. He could feel it in his fingertips. It was an urge. It was the desire to let his body flow and join hers, they were dancer. It was strange. Watching her almost made him like ballet. She needed someone to teach her how to really dance. That form had no passion, it had no feeling. It was too controlled and restrained. Merrick was all about the wild, firm dance of life.
"Who are you?" she whispered. Merrick rubbed the back of her hand gently with his thumb and smiled.
"Your new teacher," he said. She let out a nervous laugh and he leaned in close, slipping with ease into a gentle dance step. Her body copied his with perfect instinct. Her skin brushed against him, he felt her breath warm against his face.
"No, really," she urged. "Who are you?"
"Merrick Taylor and yourself?"
"Deirdre Scotus."
"Well Deirdre, what's your poison or do I even need to ask?" Merrick flashed his teeth and pressed his fingers against the small of her back. He spun her out and then back in, crossing their arms around her neck. He leaned over her shoulder and felt the beats, counting rhythms that he couldn't even begin to understand. It was natural and raw and it was everything he was.
Jessi
The soulfull looking boy, Allen, seemed very friendly and quite as nervous as her. That made her feel more at ease. Maybe everyone was nervous? Except, throwing her glance around the room, Jessi could see quite a few of the teenagers kicking back and relaxing. Some were having dance offs, others poring over their lyrics and most were chattering quite amiably though there were a few who had found themselves a little hidey hole to vanish into. Jessi wondered what sort of music was Allen's style. It was such a wide category that she couldn't leave it at that.
"Favourite instrument?" she asked. "Or, uh... are you more the singing type?" Bending over her form again, she filled in the last few sections and then offered his pen back.
"Guitar," Allen said without hesitation. "Gibson acoustic." Jessi smiled and nodded. The boy knew his stuff. He also probably owned said intrument as well to be so particular about his favourite make. When it came to not owning any instruments, Jessi always felt defensive and indignant. So her parents couldn't afford to buy her one, big deal.
"How about you?" Jessi half expected him to hazard a guess but supposed he was too nervous to really talk. He was probably saving his voice. There was more to auditioning than just showing off your strongest talent.
"It's a hard choice, but I'd probably have to go with piano," Jessi admitted.
I am nothing but a mouthful of 'sorry's, half-hearted apologies that roll of my tongue, smoothquick, like 'r's or maybe like pocket candy that's just a bit too sweet.
She twirled in his arms, her arms raised above her head. His hands rested on her hips as he sashaed with her. Her heart pounded as she was turned, her eyes meeting his. She closed her eyes, as he slowly pressed her closer. She lowered her arms, and slid away from him jumping into a petits battements. Landing, she turned toward him and bowed, sinking low to the ground. He in turn bowed to her and chuckled. Starightening, she watched him with nervous eyes.
"Magnificent." He walked towards her, cirlcing her. " Absolutely magnificent." He paused, stopping in front of her.
"Why are you here?" She paused, watching him. She slowly began to take him in. Hansome features, chisled. His body was magnificent. Rock hard and strong. She turned and walked away then quickly turned again, snapping at him.
"Why are you here?" she snapped, her anger rising. Taking a deep breath, she cooled herself, and let it out. "I'm here for auditions." Sighing she began to warm up again.
He just watched her. Pausing, she asked, "What?" Then continued warming up. She lifted her leg high into the air, imitating a split standing up.
He looked around at everyone, all fighting for the same spots here. His heart pounded and his hands trembled. What was he going to do if he didn't get in? This is what he wanted to do. Nothing else could be better than this.
A girl hummed a few notes to a song he didn't recognize. She had a beautiful voice. Adam walked over to her just to listen to a little of it.
His nerves calmed. He loved music, although he wasn't very talented in that area. He wanted to act. More than anything. He knew he was good but...he looked at all the kids around him. Was he really that good?
BREANNA
Breanna spotted an empty piano bench and took a seat. This was her forte. Her fingers danced across the keys and she sang the lyrics to her favorite song. She didn't belt out the notes like she normally would, but mostly just sang to herself.
"You have a very nice voice," someone commented behind her.
Breanna looked behind her and ducked her head, blushing.
"Thanks," she whispered.
**Anyone want to join either character? **
Hermione, shut your ungodly, lopsided mouth and quit interrupting! 20 points from Gryffindor. You know, for the brightest witch of your age you can sure be a dumba** sometimes. *smiles* 10 points to Dumbledore!
Sorry.
**
