Before Millions

12| cherry & peach girl

in this chapter, there will be an option to watch the dance video (if you prefer seeing real action and not just me describing it with grey words). thank you for waiting, hope you enjoy (i sound monotone but im actually excited af to finally finish this yipee)~

- c . h

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You know, 'Apple' is a very unique name. 

It's a fruit. I'm named after a fruit. 

It comes in all different shades and colors, just like me. There's red, yellow, green, and probably a lot more this world doesn't know about. Well, maybe it does, and I just don't care enough to take the time and learn about them.

'Apple' is also my name, which is why it's very important, like really important. 

But the reason why I was reminded of my unique name was because I was seeing only shades of red. Apple-red.

No, I'm not angry. Well, at least, that's what I want to think anyway. But you know, I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe, as much as I'm embarrassed, I'm angry at myself too.

Because here I am now- standing in front of a bathroom mirror because I'm too nervous to go back out there in the room full of all those people, my face turning redder and redder. Famous people, I should say. 

As Lemony Snicket once said, "First impressions are often entirely wrong."

No, you don't understand.

I sigh heavily - a sad attempt at trying to release all my stress in a single exhale - and comb my hair back with my fingers. My heartbeat drummed restlessly, and I felt short of breath.

"Okay," I whisper to myself. "Just don't make eye contact, walk straight, keep your head down, don't talk to anyone."

'Among all those people in that room, you're probably a better dancer than all of them combined. Why should you need to feel embarrassed? You should walk out there with your head held high. Hell, show them. Show them that you're the only one in that room that deserves the fame that they have.'

I think not, you trick-ass bitch.

I combed my hair back once more, hit my cheeks a couple times, and pulled my hood up.

Wow, did I look sketchy. In my reflection, I was pulling and holding the hood down as far as it could go (and even further than that). I just wanted to make sure it covered the whole entirety of my face. I didn't want to take any chances. For now, I'll just remain thepeachgirlthatpassedbysuperawkwardlyandlookedsomewhatconstipated.

 The Peach Girl. Huh.

I held my breath and pulled open the door as quietly as I could. Since the hood was covering almost half my face, I really couldn't see whether or not the people in the room were looking at me.

Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. Please tell me they're not. 

"Hey, you okay? What happened back there? You looked like a bat flying straight outta hell."

Ugh, they are.