The Choreographer

3: Little Things

I stay in my PJs all day once the weekend hits. I don't plan on showering or going out. I have had too much social interaction to last me about a month between the five boys I work with. My phone buzzes from my coffee table. It's a text from my mom.

Mom: Hi, Isabel, how's the new job?

Me: It's fine, they're kind of a handful...

Mom: Handful?

Me: They are hard to keep in task.

Mom: Boys will be boys. :)

I smile to myself. My mom started texting when I moved to London so we could keep in touch more easily. She is my best friend and I feel bad about moving away, but I couldn't stay in Minnesota anymore. She understood, she always understands; even when I think that she won't.

I jump when I hear a knock on my door.

I throw on a hoodie over my tank top and answer the door.

It's the elderly woman who lives next door. She smiles at me "My aren't you beautiful." She says her smiles growing wider.

"Thank you..." I manage, wondering why she's here, who she is, and why she felt it necessary to tell me that she thinks I'm beautiful.

"Your mail was put in my mailbox by mistake," she says as if reading my mind. She hands my mail to me. "Aren't you the new choreographer for One Direction?"

I'm surprised she knows who they are, but I nod anyway.

"My granddaughter loves those boys! They seem very nice." She says looking to me for a confirmation.

I give it to her. They are nice, I just have a propensity to dislike people, especially people who try to make me like them. "They are all very nice. A little rowdy at times..." I trail off "But boys will be boys." I shrug and smile at her.

She smiles and we exchange goodbyes and she walks back into her apartment.

I walk back into my apartment and throw the mail onto the counter, and turn on the TV. The news is covering a story on One Direction and their rise to fame from the X Factor. I roll my eyes not wanting to hear about it...then this song comes on, and I can't seem to change the channel.

"I know you've never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile, you've never loved your stomach or your thighs...the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine but I'll love them endlessly..."

The song abruptly ends and the news station begins to focus on another topic. I turn the TV off...do boys really think like that?

I decide I don't care and grab my things and leave for the gym.

****

After three hours of working out I decide to call it quits, mostly because I think I'm about to faint. I walk out of the gym and get into my car. I'm starving. I decide that when I get home I'll make a sandwich.

I unlock the door to my apartment and find peanut butter and jelly. I feel slightly like a six year old, eating peanut butter and jelly for dinner, but whatever. I'm an adult, I can do what I want. The September sun is setting and I decide to watch it. I finish meal, clean the kitchen and proceed to take a shower. I find myself wanting to listen to the rest of that song. I start to hum the tune, or butcher really, I can't rememeber it very well, as I shampoo my hair.

I step out of the shower and dry myself off. I put on sweatpants and a t-shirt. I brush out my hair which dries fairly straight and is pretty healthy even though I dye it blonde every month. Most people can't tell that I dye it though, I'm pretty much a professional hair dyer, except I don't get paid, which I think might be a part of the whole professional title thing.

I make myself some tea and do some stretches to relax my muscles before I go to bed. I yawn and check the clock, it reads 9:47. I open up my laptop and type in the lyrics to the One Direction song I heard. I learn that it's called Little Things, and that it's quite popular. I find a music video and let it play.

****

I wipe tears from my eyes. I brush them away, annoyed at myself for getting so emotional over a song. I see a comment written below that says "this song is meant for the pretty girls who don't think they're pretty...what happens if you're not actually pretty?"

I had better be PMSing because this comment makes me want to eat my feelings.

I stare at the comment, feeling the girl's pain and feeling extremely vulnerable, I close my eyes and suddenly I'm eighty-six and a half pounds heavier, with frizzy brown hair, and acne that no amount of coverup could conceal. Not that I knew how to use makeup anyway. I was 14, I was bullied, and I was ugly. Every time I looked into the mirror I saw her. Every time someone looks at me, I believe that they see her too.

****

Monday morning rolls around quickly and I wake up 30 minutes late. I run around like a lunatic, and arrive at work five minutes late. I walk/run into the room and see all five boy banders waiting for me, with their arms crossed over their chests.

"Late." Liam says tapping his wrist like he's wearing a watch, which he isn't.

I roll my eyes.

"No way, missy. Don't roll your eyes at us. Where were you?" Niall says to me.

I am so done. this was so not what I signed up for. "I woke up late. Sorry I'm not perfect." I growl as I push past all of them and throw my bag into the corner of the room.

Louis raises his eyebrows at me. "Defensive, aren't you?"

Do they not understnad body language, because I'm almost positive that all mine is saying is "leave me alone, now" with a hint of "or die."

"Do you want to start or not?" I say, exasperated with their questions.

"No," Louis replies "I hate dancing."

I slide down resting my back against the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest. I stare at him. Not glaring, my eyes completely void of emotion, I just stare at him. I'm not sure how to handle this situation, so I'm just not going to. 

"Izzy," Louis pauses, "I'm kidding, what's wrong?"

Harry smirks at me, and I brace myself, for whatever he's planning on doing. Harry comes over, sits next to me and gives me a bone crushing hug. "Izzy - Bel, lighten up!" He says while breaking my shoulders.

"Off-" I squeak out. He relents and lightens up in his grip, but he doesn't let me go completely.

I catch Niall giving Harry a look I can't quite decipher. I think Harry give Niall a look back, but I'm just not sure because I can't see Harry's face too well..

I shrug Harry's arm off of me. "Nothing's wrong." I clap my hands together. "Are we ready to work?"

Liam shakes his head. "Today, Isabel -"

Zayn interrupts "Our fabulous Odette!"

Louis smiles "Who only likes carrots with ranch!"

"We are going to have fun." Liam concludes smiling.

I scrunch my face up at him "Not about it."

"Oh come on." Harry says.

"Just one time and then we'll leave you alone," Niall says.

I like the ultimatum, I'm just not sure if I believe them. "Fine," I say giving them the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea what "fun" might be.