Polyvore in external LINK
Chapter 51
Marines POV
Today is finally the day, the day of my workshop show. It has also been five days since I have seen Harry. I don’t want to talk about him right now. Everything I’ve felt, said, screamed, is all written down in my journal, which I will be exhibiting for tonight. This could be one of the most important nights of my career; the chance to get published, to get signed, to be recognized. Sometimes I think the suffering I have been through this summer is because of this, for my writing.
I wake up at seven in the morning to prepare the exhibit at the new venue we will be performing at. I put on my mucky green twill trousers and a black button downed over-sized shirt, and slip into some comfy camper strap Birkenstock sandals. I go makeup free and tie my hair in a ponytail.
I head downstairs and grab some breakfast, my mother and father already awake, both reading the newspaper in silence. They don’t ask me where I am going. I decided to stop reminding them about my show, they couldn’t care less. I get on my bike and follow the directions on my phone to the venue. To my excitement, the place is absolutely beautiful and stunning. It looks somewhat like an abandoned storage room, high ceilings and all brick. Then, there were these beautiful fairy lights hanging from the ceiling to the floor. I find Webber and a couple of people from class sitting on the floor looking through some papers; I assume they are poems.
We spend the rest of the morning creating the layout of the stage and our works, practicing the 3 poems we are going to perform, and figure out other details. We decide to have 7 podiums on different sides of the room, where each of our poetry journals will be placed for people to read.
“This is going to be big for you guys,” Webber exclaims, “I am so proud of you all, and I know for a fact that all of you will be coming out of here tonight with some offers.”
I head home at one o’clock to be back at the venue by 6. Damn, I am so nervous.
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Electra comes over an hour before I have to report to the show to help me with an outfit. She said I had to look “professional” yet “personal,” that the way I dress should show some sort of artistic personality. We ended up going to my mothers closet and picking a simple lilac linen tank dress and some tan crossover sandals from ZARA. I ended up bringing the embroidered clutch I got from Greece last summer as well to put my journal in. I reread my poems for performance.
I wanted to look good. I wanted to look so nice to hide what I was feeling in the inside. Harry. I have suppressed him from my head for these five days, but now, little hints of him are popping into my mind and I don’t know what to do about it, I guess just accept it. “This isn’t about him, it’s about me” I remind myself.
“How are you feeling?” Electra asks,
“Okay,” I say, “nervous, excited, scared, excited.” I smile. My hands are sweating.
“You are going to do great.”
“What if he shows up?” I blurt out. I don’t know why I said that but I want to know what to do if he does.
YOU ARE READING
Sparrows
Fanfiction"one day you fall for this boy, and he touches you with his fingers.And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth.And it hurts when you look at him, and it hurts when you don't. And it feels like someone's cut you open with a jagged piece of glass...
