{Book 1 of the New York Duet}
𝐈𝐕𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 is a ballerina at the most prosperous dance school in all of New York City. Determined and unbending, she is hell-bent on getting the lead solo in the summer charity showcase by any means necessary...
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MONDAY
If someone would have told Darren two months ago that he would be waking up at the crack of dawn for a week to clean an entire auditorium, he would've laughed in their face. Now that it is happening, it is no laughing matter.
So there he stands in the NYSD auditorium at 5:45 am still rubbing the crust out of his eyes. He and the rest of his friends are gathered around the center's first row of seats as one of the stage crew members passes out the shirts Darcy had custom-made for them. The shirts are a royal purple color with white lettering. None of the stage crew is wearing them, an observation Darren makes after surveying the room with tired eyes.
On the front of the shirt is the school's crest, small and over the left breast; on the back is his last name in all capitals across his shoulder blades. Darren switches his pullover hoodie for the shirt same as the others. He rests his forehead on the back of Elias' shoulders, shutting his eyes for a moment of peace that is interrupted all too soon.
Descending the center aisle is Darcy with a likely assistant trailing a few paces behind her. Her voice carries through the auditorium like she hadn't just woken up. Darren groans as he lifts his head, mentally preparing himself for whatever orders she is getting ready to dish out.
"Oh good, the shirts came," she states as she walks through the herd of boys. She goes over to where the stage crew worker was handing out shirts from a box propped up on one of the chairs, dismissing them. Darren envies Darcy's ability to be so energetic.
"How are you so awake right now?" he inquires.
Her face deadpans as she answers. "I wake up at five am every day so this is nothing."
Darren moves away from Elias to take a seat in the velvet lavender chair at the end, two chairs down from Jayson. Jayson with his hood up his head hadn't bothered to change into his assigned shirt instead his head was in his lap to which Darren could hear his small snores. This might be the one time he takes a page out of Jayson's book.
Crossing his muscular arms over each, he slouches down, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Sleep is a familiar friend ready to lead him away into a quiet and peaceful dreamland despite the ruckus occurring around him. A high pitch whistle sounds through the auditorium followed by Darcy's grating voice.
Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.
"In just a minute, you should be getting a text message with your assignments for the day. From there, you'll go to your designated area," she addresses the boys.
Not a moment later Darren's phone vibrates in his pocket while others ring with a text message notification. Taking his phone out, facial recognition allows him to preview the message.
DARREN HONEY - clean up crew
He audibly whines. Why couldn't he do something low maintenance and require him to be seated? It was way too damn early to be cleaning. Laziness is a disease that Darren has been dying from since he was a kid.
