Chapter 1: The First Day

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Have you ever been struck by lightning?

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Have you ever been struck by lightning?

I guess your answer is no.

I have, and it hurts like hell. U thought I was dead cause it felt like I fell into a deep sleep after the immense paint moved through my body.

Well, to get this story started, I'll have to do a brief background as to how I got struck by lightning.

***
Few hours before lightning strike

Kayla stirred awake in her charming little apartment nestled in central London. The morning sun streamed through her sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Her walls were a colorful collage of dance posters and family photos, each piece a snapshot of her journey from New York to this very moment. The space was small but cozy, a true reflection of her unique style and dreams.

She stretched lazily on her single bed, feeling that familiar mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in her stomach. Today was a big day: her first gig as the assistant dance teacher at the London School of Performing Arts. It was a dream she'd been chasing for years, through countless auditions and rejections that only fueled her passion further. And now, here she was, on the brink of stepping into one of the world's most renowned arts schools.

Kayla thought back to her late-night practice sessions in New York, dancing until her muscles protested, driven by a love for the art that had always burned bright. Her family had been her rock through every setback, cheering her on with unwavering support. Now, she was ready to show them that all those sacrifices were worth it.

The clock read 7:00 AM. She had just enough time to get ready and catch the Tube to arrive by 8:30 AM. After a quick, invigorating shower, she slipped into her favorite dance attire-black leggings, a snug grey tank top, and a light sweater tied around her waist. She gathered her braids into a high ponytail, grinning at her reflection. Today marked the beginning of an exciting new chapter.

As she navigated the lively streets of London, her mind buzzed with anticipation. She imagined meeting talented students, collaborating with seasoned teachers, and becoming a part of the school's storied legacy. Despite the excitement, a small voice of doubt whispered in the back of her mind. Would she fit in? Would she measure up? Kayla shook off the uncertainty, focusing on the thrill of the opportunity ahead.

When Kayla arrived at the London School of Performing Arts, she was awestruck by its sheer magnificence. The building was a stunning blend of towering columns, elaborate stone carvings, and grand glass windows that shimmered in the morning light. Inside, the hallways were adorned with portraits of illustrious alumni and glittering trophies from past competitions. The air crackled with a sense of history and accomplishment, and the faint strains of music added to the ambiance of creativity and discipline.

She was guided to the director's office for a quick introduction. As she entered, she was met by Ms. Eleanor Jameson, the school's director. Ms. Jameson, in her late fifties, radiated both elegance and authority.

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