There's a first time for everything, she thought with wry humor. Her first instinct should have been to run seeing as she had never improvised, but the tiny voice in her head told her she'd rather be tortured in a Middle Age dungeon than let Matt sense an ounce of fear emanating from her.
She listened to the band composed of drums and guitar, maracas, and the beats were getting louder and quicker as Maude approached the stage, her heart beating as fast as the drum.
She could do this. She could improvise. At least she hoped she could. If Matt could do it, so could she. And better than him, too, she thought with a flash of fiery pride.
Matt took the first microphone and said, "Hello, everyone. I was talking to my friend Maude here, and she was telling me that Paris is the best city in the world. And I explained that New York was the greatest city. But she's quite a stubborn girl and she keeps insisting!"
Matt was a definite crowd pleaser. Not a hint of shyness, not a trace of bashfulness emanated from him. His confidence had won over millions of people around the world and as she looked at him, Maude understood why. Beyond his penetrating stare and his devastating smile transpired something deeper. Maude had felt it in the Creation Room and witnessed it presently in magnified proportions: he wholeheartedly and irrefutably loved music. Just like she did, Matt lived for music.
"So, I'm going to need your help convincing her, okay?" he yelled.
The crowd yelled back in agreement.
"All right, here it goes."
You're new in New York
So look at the view
Stop standing around
While the city flies past you
New York never sleeps
Party all night long
Get up on your feet
Dance from night til dawn
The crowd cheered as Maude went on stage and grabbed the second microphone. She sang in a strong voice the following words:
Rats all over the place
Subways breaking down
Coffee spilled in my face
The list goes on and on
The crowd encouraged Maude loudly again, and she looked at Matt defiantly before taking on the chorus:
New York's the place to see
Paris the place to be
Paris beats New York any day
Just give up and walk away
Matt continued:
Strikes everyday
Protests once a month
That's Paris for you
Girl, you know it's true
New York's the city of the free
Led by the Statue of Liberty
Concrete maze, blissful haze
A lively mess, a melting pot
Tied together in a tight knot
Maude danced to the beat of the drums, her feet thumping, her mind whirling, and hands clapping. Then she stopped and answered, raising her head a little higher:
New York City sounds okay
Paris takes my breath away
Music is in the air
Rhythm is everywhere
Dancing in Moulin Rouge
Beats New Year's in Times Square
Matt sang:
Paris is the place to see
New York is the place to be
Paris versus New York City
Maude sang:
New York's the place to see
Paris is the place to be
I'd choose Paris over New York any day
So just give up and walk away
Maude paused and sang slowly:
Let's agree to disagree
My heart belongs to Paris
You love New York City
Come to Paris some time
I'm sure I'll change your mind
Matt walked towards Maude and ended the song softly:
Paris versus New York City
Where you are is where I'll be
Forget Paris versus New York City
You're all that matters to me
Then they sang together softly:
Forget Paris versus New York City
You're all that matters to me"
Matt and Maude stopped singing, their eyes locked, as if nothing else in the world mattered. Maude's heart was racing as the sound of the drums slowly died down, her eyes searched his as his last words echoed in her ear. You're all that matters to me.
YOU ARE READING
A French Girl in New York-OLD VERSION
Teen FictionMaude Laurent is a spirited 16 year-old orphan who grew up in a small, provincial town in the North of France with a passion for piano and a beautiful voice. One day in Paris, she is discovered by an American music producer who takes her to New Yor...