{Chapter 1}

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*HAYLEY*

My ankles ache with the pain of my body weight resting on two toes. I am En Pointe. I am dancing. I am free. This is the best feeling in the world. Freedom. The studio is completely empty for my private practice.  As soon as the last note of the song ends I collapse onto the cold floor. After minutes of staring at the ceiling I use the barre to pull myself from the ground.

I collect my dance bag and my apartment keys from the bench beside the mirror. I catch my reflection staring back at me. I am nothing special. Brown hair, hazel eyes and a fair complexion. I sigh and turn to leave.

When I arrive back to my small apartment I throw my keys onto the kitchen table and start to boil some water for my tea. I take out my MacBook Air and scroll through Twitter when i get a notification for an email. I open the tab and the email which is from the Royal Ballet School.

Dear Ms. Stevenson,

We are delighted to inform you that you will be transferred from class B4 to A3 as you have been chosen to perform a solo for the company. You will be under the supervision of Ms. Whitmore and her teaching assistant Mr. Styles. Your classes begin tomorrow in studio 4 at 11:40-whichever time is deemed suitable.

We hope you see this as a great opportunity and will work for this position.

Good luck Ms. Stevenson,

Penelopy Andrews, Head of The Royal Ballet School of London.

I re-read and re-read the email again. Really? ME! I WAS CHOSEN TO PERFORM FOR THE COMPANY! I squeal and jump up and down for a good 5 minutes. The tea is probabaly cold. I run over and pick up the cup of luke warm water and sigh. i re-boil the kettle and make my tea. I'm so consumed in my thoughts that when I go to place down my tea I spill it all over my leg. SHIT! FU-AH. I run to the bathroom and a sweet sence of relief washes over me when I put my leg under the faucet. I bandage up my leg and sigh. This is just splendid. I now have a burnt leg for my classes tomorrow. Great. Im going to let down Ms. Whitemore and her teaching assistant tomorrow. I just hope he's not a pedophile like Mr. Brown. I sigh and switch off my light and get into bed.

Tomorrow is going to be a looonnnnggg day.

A.N.

Hey guys, this is me and my friends first story on wattpad and we're pretty nervous about the feedback. I've been wanting to write a story for a while now and I figured why not? Sorry, this story is just starting out and this chapter was short :). WHO ELSE CAN'T WAIT TO MEET MR. STYLESSSS ;0. <3 <3 <3 peace out xox

Lucy & Ella <3



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