Weeks of rehearsal went by in a blur. Countless hours of Harry's harsh judgement and Amelia's sweet guidance. Whenever Harry flipped his lid Amelia and Niall were always there with reassuring words. The most confusing part was that Harry had told me he thought this would be his best performance, he saw potential in me, so why was he being so cruel?
I pondered on this as I made my way to the theater. The walk had become second nature by this point. I fiddled with the tangled cord of my headphones as I waited for the light to change, signaling it was safe to cross. I had Queen blasting in my ears, as the light changed, and I crossed the street safe and sound. I turned the corner and there she was, my home. I walked in through the back door. After weeks of coming here day after day I eventually figured out which doors and hallways get me places faster.
When I reached the stage, I threw my backpack on the ground and attempted to unravel my mess of wires. I had just managed to get one part untangled when I heard the stage door open and slam. I heard the familiar sound of boots clomping down the hallway until I was met with Eleanor's friendly smile.
"Aye the big 'L' is in the house!" She yelled.
"Eleanor, you've got to stop calling me that." I chuckled.
"Why? I think it's cool." She said throwing her crossbody bag on the floor next to mine.
"The big 'L' sounds like you're calling me a big loser."
"I am." She smiled.
"Oh. What the fuck El?" I asked, appalled.
"Calm your tits little boy I'm just joking. You're not a loser." She walked over and ruffled my hair.
"I'm not little." I pouted.
"Sure, you're not" She winked at me.
"Lifts." A loud voice sounded.
Eleanor and I both looked around frantically. Harry emerged from behind the thick red curtain.
"Today we are practicing lifts." He said as he walked over to us.
"Were you just hiding behind the curtain listening to us?" I asked.
"Don't be so self-absorbed, I was checking the sound panel. Niall said it was being difficult last night." He answered.
"Oh." I was immediately embarrassed.
"You." He pointed at El.
"Me?" El pointed to herself.
"Yes, take your shoes off." He instructed.
"I know you don't like them, but you don't have to be so mean." she said quietly.
"You're right, I don't like them. But Louis will despise them even more if he gets stomped on by one of them as he tries to execute a lift." He snapped.
"Wait what?" She asked.
"Must I explain everything? Picture this. Louis lifts you and your hideous boots up and oops, he loses his grip, and you come falling down. Your thick booted foot lands right on his little toes and breaks one of them. Would you like that?" He questioned.
"N-no." She mumbled.
"Good then if you would please take off your shoes so we may begin." he asked calmly.
Eleanor quickly took off her shoes and threw them by her bag.
"Should I take off my shoes?" I asked.
"No, you'll need as much protection as you can get." He answered.
"Okay, Eleanor, please stand in front of Louis."
YOU ARE READING
Maroon (larry stylinson)
Fanfiction"The one I was dancing with in New York, no shoes, looked up at the sky and it was maroon." Louis Tomlinson is an aspiring actor living in New York. When he lands his dream role as 'The Phantom' in "The Phantom of the Opera", he is forced to endure...
