I Won't Let You Go (Conor Maynard)

CHAPTER ONE; THE CALL/Freya

I look at my reflection in the mirror of the gym. I’m wearing some big, grey t-shirt and black leggings. I have dancing shoes on my feet. My blond hair is tied up in a messy bun and I have this intense look in my blue eyes. They always look like that when I’m getting ready to do my dancing routines.

I press the play button of the stereos and Petey Pablo’s Show Me The Money starts blasting. I begin moving with the rhythm, doing the moves as I’ve been choreographing them. In the middle of the song I start improvising, though, because I haven’t figured out the moves yet. Some random street dance moves pop in my head and I think I may have finally found sequel for my choreography. I quit the dancing and go up to my notebook to write some notes so that I won’t forget the moves.

“That was really impressive”, I hear a female voice saying somewhere behind me, scaring the shit out of me.

I turn around to see one of the dancing teachers, Mrs. White, standing in the doorway. She’s looking at me, smiling a bit mysteriously.

I laugh lightly and turn the music off.

“You kinda scared me”, I say.

“Sorry about that”, she apologizes. “Though, I’d like to know why is it usually so hard so that energy and power and all that talent during the classes?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t think I ever get the chance to use all my skills. Mrs. Woods wants to do everything strictly by her own way.”

Mrs. White looks at me, her eyes sparkling. “Such a shame I’m not your teacher.”

I don’t know what to say exactly. I wish she would be my teacher, too. Too bad she isn’t. They say she’s pretty much the best dancing teacher here, in Kingston University. Well, at least she’s the most honoured teacher. Only some special ones and amazingly talented dancers get to be part of her students.

“Do you mind visiting my office soon?” she asks me.

“Yeah, okay sure”, I say, a bit confused. “I’ll just pack up my stuff and I’ll come.”

I stuff my ipod, water bottle, notebook and pen into my bag and follow Mrs. White out of the room and the through the corridors into her office. She asks me to sit on a chair next to the table and goes herself to sit her own chair behind the computer screen. She starts typing something on the keyboard. All I can do is to wait.

“So”, Mrs. White begins. “I’d like you to explain this to me.”

She turns the screen so that I can also see the video which is just starting to play. The quality is quite shitty but it’s still on hard to understand what’s going on. It’s some kind of a dancing thing on Brighton Pier, obviously. You know, when people stand on a ring and challenge each other to bust a move in the middle.

I look at the girl in the video dancing along Put That Ass To Work by LMFAO. All of a sudden, I realise something. I know those moves. I know those clothes. Then the camera catches the dancer’s face. It’s me, from last summer. We have a villa in Brigton, where we visit on holidays, especially on summer. So basically, I had just been spending time and yeah…

“I didn’t know that went on the internet”, I say, kind of surprised. But now that I think of it, it’s quite logical. I mean, sure people put these kind of videos on YouTube and all.

Mrs. White shows me a couple more videos of me dancing, in different places. Yet I still don’t understand what she’s trying to tell me by showing these videos to me.

“So do you have any idea what I’m trying to tell you?” she asks eventually.

I shake my head.

She takes a moment before she bursts out something that gets me so shocked I almost fall down from my chair. “I got a call just a while ago from a man who called himself Conor Maynard’s manager. He was asking if you studied here and if I were your teacher. Well, I took the liberty to say that yes, I am your teacher. He told me they had seen videos of you on YoutTube and want to have you in Conor’s next music video of Vegas Girl.”

I stare at her trying to figure out if she’s kidding me but she seems pretty serious. So all I can say is: “What.”

Mrs. White smiles at me. “Just tell me do you want to be a dancer or part of his music video or something like that?”

I feel extremely overwhelmed. I don’t really know what to do, because I’m not even sure if this is really happening or if I’m just dreaming.

“Conor Maynard? They guy who sang Can’t Say No?” I ask, instead of answering her question.

“That’s what I understood.”

“Oh god… Yes!” I say without even thinking any further. After all, this is an amazing opportunity. This might actually help me with my future plans and stuff.

“So I can tell them that you’re willing to do it?”

“Yeah - wait. Are you sure I can dance in the video then?” I ask. Suddenly I’m not so sure about this. I mean, there was not really like proper dancers in the video of Can’t Say No.

“I’ll make them to let you dance. You really deserve. You’re a really great dancer, Freya.”

I feel flattered. “Thanks”, I say, smiling shyly. “Can I go now?”

Mrs. White nods. “Yes. I will inform you about the schedule and all as soon as I get to know them myself.”

“Thank you so much!” I say standing up. When I’m at the door, I hear her calling me.

“Freya. I didn’t just say that you’re my student. I had to make some changes so that Mrs. Woods won’t teach you any longer. You’re going to be part of the few special ones that I’m teaching.”

I look at her, mouth wide open. Then I pull myself together, give her a large smile and say thankfully: “Thank you so much for everything.”

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