Add a sentence! 🍂

[Chay]

Of course! Thanks! I will definitely show you as soon as it’s going anywhere!

[wishmay]

@Chay Fine with me!

@wandering_willow

ok Alix is SO COOL I’m fangirling sooo hard rn!

yes, agreed!!

[wishmay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good.

[Chay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”

[wandering_willow]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.

[wishmay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over.

[Chay]

I walked down [name_f]Rose[/name_f] Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, [name_u]Alix[/name_u].
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. [name_f]My[/name_f] heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, [name_u]Alix[/name_u], you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f], it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show [name_u]Alix[/name_u] what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f] upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f].
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f]. “Hey.” [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f] said, softly. “Alix, this is [name_f]Gretel[/name_f], GretelBrown.” [name_m]Brown[/name_m]. She must have been [name_f]Maia[/name_f] and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f] for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to [name_f]Gretel[/name_f]. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] murmured. “Like [name_f]Catherine[/name_f] Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f]. I knew all and well that [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, [name_u]Alix[/name_u].
“Yes, like [name_f]Catherine[/name_f] Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] said one more word about my mother…
[name_f]Gretel[/name_f] leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f] turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as [name_m]Damien[/name_m] began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: [name_f]Catherine[/name_f] Brizby. [name_f]My[/name_f] heart dropped.

[wandering_willow]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylvie stepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”

[wishmay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!

[wandering_willow]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.

[Chay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.

[wandering_willow]

[quote=“Chay, post:51, topic:424626, full:true”]
I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.
Sylvie leaned in close again, her voice dripping sugar. “Nice work, amateur,” she said innocently, spinning me around again. I could feel my cheeks turn red-hot once again.
Sylvie and I stopped the dance routine, and Damien clapped slowly with a thin smile on his face. “Nice work, girls. Alix, you show promise, and I’d love to welcome you as a dancer…but that’s on one condition.”

[Chay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.
Sylvie leaned in close again, her voice dripping sugar. “Nice work, amateur ,” she said innocently, spinning me around again. I could feel my cheeks turn red-hot once again.
Sylvie and I stopped the dance routine, and Damien clapped slowly with a thin smile on his face. “Nice work, girls. Alix, you show promise, and I’d love to welcome you as a dancer…but that’s on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” I asked warily, but still trying to put the appropriate enthusiasm in my voice. I did, after all, still need to infiltrate the entire company if I wanted to get back at Maia- and now Gretel, too.

[wandering_willow]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.
Sylvie leaned in close again, her voice dripping sugar. “Nice work, amateur ,” she said innocently, spinning me around again. I could feel my cheeks turn red-hot once again.
Sylvie and I stopped the dance routine, and Damien clapped slowly with a thin smile on his face. “Nice work, girls. Alix, you show promise, and I’d love to welcome you as a dancer…but that’s on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” I asked warily, but still trying to put the appropriate enthusiasm in my voice. I did, after all, still need to infiltrate the entire company if I wanted to get back at Maia- and now Gretel, too.
“You’re going to need to take private lessons with my daughter Gretel.”
Gretel looked as bewildered as I did when she heard her father say that. She actually walked out of a dance routine and stomped over to her dad, her face scrunched up angrily. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was unhappy about this arrangement.

[Chay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.
Sylvie leaned in close again, her voice dripping sugar. “Nice work, amateur ,” she said innocently, spinning me around again. I could feel my cheeks turn red-hot once again.
Sylvie and I stopped the dance routine, and Damien clapped slowly with a thin smile on his face. “Nice work, girls. Alix, you show promise, and I’d love to welcome you as a dancer…but that’s on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” I asked warily, but still trying to put the appropriate enthusiasm in my voice. I did, after all, still need to infiltrate the entire company if I wanted to get back at Maia- and now Gretel, too.
“You’re going to need to take private lessons with my daughter Gretel to catch up on some things.”
Gretel looked as bewildered as I did when she heard her father say that. She actually walked out of a dance routine and stomped over to her dad, her face scrunched up angrily. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was unhappy about this arrangement.
“Me?” Gretel asked, aghast.
“It will be good for you both,” Damien responded. “You’ll even get some more pocket money for the lessons.”
Gretel grimaced, her hatred for me warring with her greed. “Mum wouldn’t make me do this,” he eventually mumbled.
“Wonderful!” Damien exulted. “You can start Thursday afternoon at 4:30 to 6pm.”

[wandering_willow]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.
Sylvie leaned in close again, her voice dripping sugar. “Nice work, amateur ,” she said innocently, spinning me around again. I could feel my cheeks turn red-hot once again.
Sylvie and I stopped the dance routine, and Damien clapped slowly with a thin smile on his face. “Nice work, girls. Alix, you show promise, and I’d love to welcome you as a dancer…but that’s on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” I asked warily, but still trying to put the appropriate enthusiasm in my voice. I did, after all, still need to infiltrate the entire company if I wanted to get back at Maia- and now Gretel, too.
“You’re going to need to take private lessons with my daughter Gretel to catch up on some things.”
Gretel looked as bewildered as I did when she heard her father say that. She actually walked out of a dance routine and stomped over to her dad, her face scrunched up angrily. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was unhappy about this arrangement.
“Me?” Gretel asked, aghast.
“It will be good for you both,” Damien responded. “You’ll even get some more pocket money for the lessons.”
Gretel grimaced, her hatred for me warring with her greed. “Mum wouldn’t make me do this,” she eventually mumbled.
“Wonderful!” Damien exulted. “You can start Thursday afternoon at 4:30 to 6pm.”
Damien strolled away, twiddling the Manila folder between his king, gangly fingers. My eyes narrowed in on it. I felt the urge to pry it from his hands and read through all the files.
“Hey. Brizby.” Gretel waved a thin, delicate hand in front of my face. She grimaced at me. “I know exactly why you’re here. You think you’re a better dancer than me, big shot? I’ll show you. If your mother were alive to see you flailing your arms around like that, I’m sure she’d be disappointed.”
My cheeks got hot again. I balled up a fist and got ready to shatter every bone in her body, but a hand blocked me. Oh, great. Sylvie.
“You know, Gretel, you’re pretty intimidating…for a short person.” Sylvie winked at her. Gretel was about ready to explode with anger.

[Chay]

I walked down Rose Avenue, my eyes scanning the street, looking for that awful woman’s husband. He seemed to materialise out of thin air, stepping out from behind a pillar with extravagant flourish. A knowing grin unfolded across his face. “And here I was, not thinking you’d show up,” he spoke gently.
“I said I would,” I snapped, then made an effort to soften my voice. It wasn’t him I was mad at.
He clicked his tongue, glancing at me unimpressed. “My dance studio is just down the street- would you like to take a look inside?”
I winced internally, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “Of course,” I said, my voice sweet. The stroll down the avenue was so calm and peaceful, yet so terrifying- I kept my head low and stayed silent until we stopped at the studio. As I stared up at the ornate door, a gust of wind blew down the street. It seemed like someone was trying to warn me of something. Impending doom ahead, I thought it must be saying. You won’t get out of this one, Alix.
Maia’s husband held open the door for me and beckoned for me to enter the building, and I did so- but warily. Thin, delicate-looking dancers were engaged in a rather difficult-looking dance routine. I was stunned when one of the dancers came over to me to say something.
“You’re… Alix?” she asked softly, her steel-gray eyes giving nothing away. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
I felt a million thoughts swirling around in my head. My heart started beating…really fast. A little too fast, actually. Oh, crap, she’s gorgeous…no, Alix, you have to stay focused.
“Oh, really?” I said as causally as I could manage, silently cursing to myself — I was here for one reason and one reason only, and conversing with the dancers was not part of the plan. “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Lots of things,” she whispered, looking me up and down.
“Good things, I hope,” I said lightly, turning back to face the man at my side.
“If you’re finished,” he grumbled impatiently. Biting my tongue against my sarcastic response, I followed as he continued to lead his way through the studio. “Actually, I want to get you properly trained before we start you off on your assignment. Stay in this class for a little bit, I’ll pull you out in an about an hour and we can have lunch?” Maia’s husband says. “Uh, ok Mr Brown” I reply. “Call me Damien,” he answers, with a sweet smile, but his eyes are not smiling. A tall man beckons Mr to the bar. “Right. Please position yourself at the bar.” I go behind the dancer who had spoke to me earlier. She turns around “I’m Sylvie, it’s nice to finally meet you Alix,” The tall man interrupts. “Girls let’s show Alix what we have been working on.” They scurry in to the center, Sylvie upfront with her white blonde hair cascading down her back. “and a 5,6,7,8, pirouette 2,3,4, 2nd position, 5,6 hold!” He yells. I can’t take my eyes off Sylvie.
All of a sudden, my phone began to ring. I barely glanced at the screen before shoving it back in my bag. I couldn’t deal with my sister, not now, not here.
“I can’t talk to you right now, Aimee.”
I hung up the phone. The teacher stopped the music and pointed at the water bottles on the side. The dancers all went to the side. I walked over to Sylvie. “Hey.” Sylvie said, softly. “Alix, this is Gretel, GretelBrown.” Brown. She must have been Maia and Damien’s daughter. “So this is Alix.” She looked judgemental.
I looked to Sylvie for a second. Her expression was apologetic. “Only my friends call me Alix,” I responded scathingly, turning back to Gretel. “You can call me Brizby.” Brizby was my surname. I liked to make people I didn’t like call me Brizby.
“Brizby?” Gretel murmured. “Like Catherine Brizby? Wasn’t there some accident or something? What happened to her?”
“Shut up Gretel,” hissed Sylvie. I knew all and well that Gretel knew what happened to my Mother. Maiamust of gone home that night and told Gretel all about mummy’s great adventure. I clench my fists.
I lean in close to Gretel and examine her. She’s got her mother’s upturned nose, pig eyes, and judgemental glare. I could break this bitch in an instant. I relax my fists and sigh. Stick to the plan, Alix.
“Yes, like Catherine Brizby,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care where I was or what plan I had to stick to, if Gretel said one more word about my mother…
Gretel leaned in, her little snout inches away from my face, considering me. I stared back as calmly as I could, attempting to suppress my rage. If there was one thing my mother had taught me, it was that showing my emotions led to more harm than good. Gretel seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get a reaction from me, and stepped back. “Watch yourself, Brizby,” she warned. “You might think you know everything, but I’m in charge here.”
I was fuming. People always said I had my mother’s temper…and they weren’t wrong. I felt the strong urge to body-slam Gretel into a wall, and balled up my fists again.
“You okay, Alix?” Sylvie turned to me, with a worried expression across her face. I froze, stunned. She was so beautiful, she almost looked like a doll.
“Fine,” I replied tersely, turning away.
“Your ears are bright red,” Gretel announced helpfully. I bit back a retort as Damien began to gesture for me to come over. He was standing across the dance floor near the entrance. In his hands were papers. One of them fell to the floor, and even from this distance I could make out some of the words: Catherine Brizby. My heart dropped. I think I stared at him for a bit too long, because he caught me looking and instantly shoved the papers into a manila folder and strolled over to me. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and chuckled, though it wasn’t a happy chuckle. “So…Alix, can you show me your dancing?”
Now it was my turn to be nervous. “I…uh…” Sylviestepped in confidently and firmly grabbed my wrist. “I’ll be her dancing partner.” She looked at me emptily. “Show her the ropes.”
I bit back a nervous grimace, trying to ignore how close Sylvie was. This was fine, totally fine, no potential for disaster here!
Sylvie leaned in close. I felt my heart flutter around in my ribcage like a caged bird. She smelled like honey and fresh flowers. “Follow my lead,” She whispered, her voice gentle yet powerful.
And I tried. When she stepped, I stepped. When she twirled, I twirled. I’m sure I looked nowhere near as graceful, but, thanks to my fighting experience, I was able to keep up with her for the most part.
Sylvie leaned in close again, her voice dripping sugar. “Nice work, amateur ,” she said innocently, spinning me around again. I could feel my cheeks turn red-hot once again.
Sylvie and I stopped the dance routine, and Damien clapped slowly with a thin smile on his face. “Nice work, girls. Alix, you show promise, and I’d love to welcome you as a dancer…but that’s on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” I asked warily, but still trying to put the appropriate enthusiasm in my voice. I did, after all, still need to infiltrate the entire company if I wanted to get back at Maia- and now Gretel, too.
“You’re going to need to take private lessons with my daughter Gretel to catch up on some things.”
Gretel looked as bewildered as I did when she heard her father say that. She actually walked out of a dance routine and stomped over to her dad, her face scrunched up angrily. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was unhappy about this arrangement.
“Me?” Gretel asked, aghast.
“It will be good for you both,” Damien responded. “You’ll even get some more pocket money for the lessons.”
Gretel grimaced, her hatred for me warring with her greed. “Mum wouldn’t make me do this,” she eventually mumbled.
“Wonderful!” Damien exulted. “You can start Thursday afternoon at 4:30 to 6pm.”
Damien strolled away, twiddling the Manila folder between his king, gangly fingers. My eyes narrowed in on it. I felt the urge to pry it from his hands and read through all the files.
“Hey. Brizby.” Gretel waved a thin, delicate hand in front of my face. She grimaced at me. “I know exactly why you’re here. You think you’re a better dancer than me, big shot? I’ll show you . If your mother were alive to see you flailing your arms around like that, I’m sure she’d be disappointed.”
My cheeks got hot again. I balled up a fist and got ready to shatter every bone in her body, but a hand blocked me. Oh, great. Sylvie.
“You know, Gretel, you’re pretty intimidating…for a short person .” Sylvie winked at her. Gretel was about ready to explode with anger.
“I’m not short!” Gretel all but yelled.
Being really quite tall myself, I didn’t think I was an appropriate place to judge, but nonetheless, Gretel did seem extremely short. At least a foot shorter than me, and I was 5’10". Not wanting to make her hate me more, I didn’t want to say anything. But it obviously annoyed her, so I make a noise of disagreement. “Shut up, Bizby!” Gretel shouted.
I smiled at her, sugar-sweet once more. “See you on Thursday, Gretel.” And I walked from the room.

[lemon_swirlxx]

of course! I think it would be amazing

[lemon_swirlxx]

[name_u]New[/name_u] part of the same story

“So, [name_u]Alix[/name_u], we are going for lunch at a french place down the road, I believe [name_f]Maia[/name_f] and [name_f]Katherine[/name_f], your mum, loved it here!” [name_m]Damien[/name_m] said as we walked out of his dance studio.

[Chay]

“So, [name_u]Alix[/name_u], we are going for lunch at a french place down the road, I believe [name_f]Maia[/name_f] and [name_f]Katherine[/name_f], your mum, loved it here!” [name_m]Damien[/name_m] said as we walked out of his dance studio.
It was [name_m]Friday[/name_m] morning, and the lesson with [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] last night had gone horribly. She was horrible to me. I was made to warm up until I could scarcely move, then danced for the next hour whilst [name_f]Gretel[/name_f] watched me from the sidelines, calling out advice. “Bring your leg higher,” she’d call. [name_f]My[/name_f] leg had already been as high as it would freaking go! By the 6 o’clock, I was holding back tears. [name_f]Sylvie[/name_f] was waiting outside for me and saw right through my facade.