***
Proceed with caution!
It's a cringe story I wrote years ago but it's also my first completed story so it has an iron grip on me despite being all over the place and cringey. Nothing is accurate since I made everything up and it's totally fiction...
"Guess I had my chance, and now this is our last dance."
- Baby, Clean Bandit ft Marina
**HIT PLAY GUYS, ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS SONG XD
Votes and Comments!
*********
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Layla
Stars.
Twinkling stars.
In my superior imagination, I could picture them floating around, up and down... circling the dude's head once I hurt him real badly.
And of course In-dick-go Purdom too. I'll keep calling her dick even if she doesn't have one.
"Do you want me to head-slam you?" I threatened the dude that was smiling like Uncle Fester at me and who doesn't take no for an answer and kept pestering me to have my first fucking dance with him.
Dipshit stranger.
Upon hearing my threat, he slowly backed away with a scowl on his face."It's just a dance, you psycho bitch." He scoffed angrily when he walked away.
"Toodles, crackhead." I waved him off, not even the least offended when he called me out.
Good riddance. Now, I can finally enjoy the upcoming foot steppings and trippings of these two-faced devils waltzing in skirts..
Like a hawk.
The wait was agonizing, watching the King of the Waltz himself, André Rieu - his 'My Way' performance at New York could impregnate anyone, even my Pa - chatting animatedly with the concertmaster at the front line aka the violinist lead.
And slowly, whilst appreciating Beckett's idol up there, I instantaneously caught Beck gliding his fingers skillfully on the grand piano's keys for the soundcheck purpose not too far away from André and his legendary violin. Beck must be squealing like a lass up there.
Casually sipping my virgin Mojito, well since my Pa would totally hunt my ass if he find out that I'm drinking. I saw Stella at the same time she averted her gaze at me. I managed to squint my eyes, looking at her shoes and noticed that she wasn't wearing a stiletto.
Bummer.
It would actually turn the ball funnier if she tripped over her pumps, or I could bribe Nate to make her trip.
A devilish grin sneaked onto my lips, and Stella gave me a small wave before looked away hastily. Probably creeped out with my overly amiable grin.
Everyone at the ballroom floor started to circle around, their palms met, getting ready for the dance.
