Competitive // GxG

Chapter 2

The school day had finished the same way it started, tedious and tiring. My car pulled into the driveway as I let out an exhausted yawn, the day had still yet to finish. After entering the house, the faint smell of citrus candles attacked my nose and the the gleeful humming of my mother ringing through the hallways. She was typing away on her laptop, headphones in her ears and concentration painted on her face. I headed straight for my room, eager to change from my school clothes before I attended the plethora of extra curricular activities that awaited me.

I change into some active wear, tying my hair into a ponytail and wiping off any remaining make up for the day, I grab my dance bag and threw on some comfy shoes. Upon entering the kitchen I decide that an apple should be able to sustain me for a couple of hours before dinner so I pick one from the fruit bowl and take a bite.

"Hey Millie, how long have you been home?" Mum questions, finally peeling her eyes from whatever work files were displayed on the laptop.

"Not long." I reply, hopping onto the counter stool as I faced her. "We got our math results today." I add, taking another bite from the fruit.

"Oh yeah how'd you go?" She asks, both headphones now out of her ears and placed on the table, giving me her full attention.

"Not too bad, 97%" I trail, my eyes averting from her to the apple.

"That's fantastic! All your hard work is really paying off!" SHe exclaims and I give her a half-assed smile.

"Ismene got 98.5%" I mutter, the bitterness seeping through my tone.

"Her parents must be so proud, we'll all have to celebrate soon." She suggests, completely oblivious to my obvious disdain for the girl.

"Sure mum." I reply, not bothered to fight about it. "I've got to go to dancing, I'll be back for dinner. Tell dad not to eat my pasta." She chuckled with a nod and I threw the apple core in the trash before picking up my keys and heading back out.

I wouldn't say I was a passionate dancer. I enjoyed the exercise and the music but I couldn't see myself in the Russian ballet anytime soon but it was a great thing to put on my university application. It shows dedication, motivation and teamwork, exactly what I needed to get into Headston Academy.

My team mates greeted me and we began the grueling two hour rehearsal before I started my hour long voice and musical theatre rehearsal. We'd worked on polishing the ever classic Grease tune 'Hopelessly Devoted' and I was confident that Sandy Dumbrowski was mine for the taking. The studio's receptionist wished me good luck on my audition and I returned home, my stomach growling in protest, needing any type of food to stop it from eating me from the inside out.

Mum had made a delicious pesto pasta dish and I noticed they'd waited for me before they started eating. We all ate together and conversed about our busy days, dad told us all about a patient he'd had in the ER this morning and mum had explained how she received four new orders for her personalized gift giving business. I'd gone into semi-detail about my plans for the weekend and they were eager to allow me to spend time with Ismene, practically believing that she could do no wrong.

After a quick dinner I was off again, this time to piano lessons, ensuring that my skills were consistently improving and keeping them maintained. Another thing to put on my Headston application. The lesson was full of harsh feedback and strict etiquette, my teacher an old witchy woman that was hardly impressed with anything. She was the best of the best. Bidding her a polite goodbye I reached my last activity of the night, tutoring. There's no way I'd ever even have a chance at beating Ismene without extra help so until the late hour 10:00 I was retaught my syllabus for probably the millionth time this semester.

I came home utterly exhausted, my brain practically mush and desperately craving a shower. I stripped out of my exercise clothes and ran the shower, washing off the stress and grime of the day as I calmed myself for bed. I carried out the remained of my nightly routine as my mind wandered to the audition tomorrow. I could practically envision Ismene standing in the center of the stage, her flawlessly cropped hair framing her face with not a piece out of place, probably wearing a conserrvative dress to (look more in character) and having her thin framed Oakley glasses placed on the bridge of her freckled nose, her deep brown eyes peering through them with feigned naivity.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever even stand a chance.

I finish getting ready for bed and climb into the comfy mattress, placing my phone on charge beside me and setting an alarm for 6:30, giving me enough time to go for a run and be ready for school. I could barely keep my eyes open as I clicked the clock icon so as soon as the alarm was set I rolled over and let my body rest.

~~~

Today was finally the big day. I went for my run and made it back with plenty of time to get myself looking as nice as possible in order to make an impression on the director. It was only our drama teacher and I'd been practically his assistant for my entire high school career but I still felt like an extra effort was required.

Arriving at the school parking lot I locked eyes with Ismene for the first time that day. She'd styled her hair the same as she usually does but I could see that she's been especially particular about her make up today. Her eyeshadow a faint pink rather than her usual nude and her lips adorning a similar colour. She did look very Sandy-esque, her outfit a stylish mix of modern day and 1950s chic.

This is not looking good for me.

The auditions weren't until lunch so I was forced to endure the first two agonsisingly long periods without any trace of concentration, no doubt needing to catch up later. Yet another thing to add onto my already mountainous schedule, how exciting.