My Dance Tutor (NEW)

CH 2: The Makeover The Encounter The Ellen Show

I donned my T-shirt, dirty jeans, converse and cap, ready to go. In a split second I caught myself in the small, second-hand mirror hanging on the wall. All I see is Bell: glasses-framed green eyes and sharp features; skinny frame and baggy clothes; waist long, messy and straight ash-brown hair. No Amélie. Okay, maybe our facial features might look kinda (shockingly) similar, according to Google Images, but I'm not blond, famous, diva-like, nor rich. On the contrary, actually. My parents and I share a tiny, suffocating apartment, with only 8 furnitures in total--2 beds, 1 table, two closets, 3 chairs, and one loveseat. Oh and the toilet and sink if it counts. My mom is a waitress and a photographer, my dad is a full-time taxi driver, and I am a beggar sort of person who goes into random shops, begging to help cleansing to earn some money. 

But don't feel sorry for me, for I get to go to Starbucks, a posh delicatessen I've never been to and never thought I'd ever. 

With my skateboard and shoulder bag, I headed to ST. Rivan street, all the time jotting down the things that had changed since yesterday.

1) A man mistook me as Amélie Alekseyevna

2) The man who mistook me as Amélie Alekseyevna told me to meet him in an expensive restaurant

3) I am Amélie Alekseyevna for the time being

Amélie Alekseyevna is apparently a russian young ballet prodigy who won the Prix Benois de la Danse, the Grand Prix, the Prix de Laussane, the WBC...and some more, before she disappeared a year ago.  Some websites believed in the rumors that she was kidnapped, whereas others think she was drowned in a ship wreck, or killed by competition rivals. Either way, as she is an orphan and has no relatives, no one has the gospel truth. 

I came to a stop in front of the Starbucks glass doors by doing a half kick flip, grabbing the skateboard before I landed. I entered eagerly, smiling at the fresh aroma and the beautiful scene. Starbucks Coffee has pretty wood furnitures and green faces everywhere, giving such a feeling of comfort. 

I caught sight of Russian Moustache Man at a table sipping from a cup with a green face on it. 

"Hi---"

"Oh, Amélie! Oh Amélie!" Here he goes again.

"Oh, Amélie! I will immediately give you something to eat and drink! Hold on. Waitress! Waitress! Waitress O waitress! Waitress O waitress O waitress!"

After the 'O waitress' came and gave me a wonderful palate of delicacy and a green-face cup,  he carried on.

"A skateboard, I see! So your leg is still healing! Sliding around is less painful than walking, yes yes i know know know know. Oh, Amélie, I got information from the top ballet schools here, and inevitably, they accepted you. Do you want to go to Alistan Dance or Northenstire?"

Ballet school? Huh? "Um, actually, my guardian isn't doing well with wages and rents, so I can't afford it."

Amélie Alekseyevna did have an old lady Marie Dykhovichny as a guardian, but she had became a bit senile in the recent years, and so gave no more information of Amélie disappearance than an eggplant. 

"Oh, Amélie, that explains your lowly attire! But, Amélie, you don't need money to enter the school! I'm sure all schools are hoping you will be their student, so to heighten their own reputation, since you are such a star! Oh Amélie! Oh Amélie! Oh Amélie!" 

Um. 

The opera soap continued, "And also, records didn't find you in any school throughtout the world for an year, which means you must've missed your studies! Oh Amélie! Oh oh oh!" He choked on his coffee during the last 'oh!', and I waited for his coughing fit to be over.