If I run

Chapter 3 (Abigail)

Well that completely blew, I was stuck with him writing this book around me. At least I get almost an hour of no interruptions. "Oh good at least Abigail is here" Marcus sighed with relief "where's Marco?" I asked confused "he's at home sick, with the stomach flu" Marcus sounded annoyed "oh, glad he didn't come, hope he gets better soon" remembering that we had to basically kiss today's had never been more relieved "yes, but we don't have any other male models on short notice" Marcus snarled at the inconvenience, but as Collin walked up everyone started looking him over " he could work" Angelica in wardrobe muttered "I could work what?" he asked alarmed " today my friend you are going to be a model" Marcus announced as they handed him an outfit, shoving him into the curtains to change. I was handed the dress and five seconds later I was out and getting my makeup on he came out in a full tux, and I mean a full tux the pants, the vest, the jacket and the bow tie. My dress was simply beautiful, shear black, it flowed in tulle and held my shape wonderfully, cupping my breasts in the way most definitely exaggerated them.

"I swear to god Marcus, you owe me" Collin mumbled "you and everyone else in Paris" Marcus yelled and then started shouting in an even louder tone, about how he wanted us positioned, half in French, half English, I got the gist of what he wanted this time, unfortunately due to the fact that I've worked far too many times with him.

My lips were on Collin's neck, cheek and ear at one point. But he stood stiff, confused, and shocked " listen I'm not very happy with this arrangement, but this is my job, so will you please just try" I hissed "I don't know what he's saying half the time" he hissed back " its just like a dance, but I'm leading not you!" I hissed hoping maybe that would click. I think it may of finally done so because it was suddenly working a whole lot better and Marcus wasn't frowning anymore. But there was the last shot... the kiss. I had to guide his hands down to my hip bones slowly, he had already leaned his head down, my lips finding his and touching lightly, with a tiny spark between us SNAP... FLASH...SNAP

"that's a wrap!" Marcus bellowed, I slipped out of his grip, running to the changing tent, grabbed my bag and quickly walked away "Abigail" Collin called out, I turned around but kept walking backwards "yes?" I asked when he finally caught up " I have to start interviewing you" he said and I groaned "fine, but I refuse to stop any part of my normal day for you" "so I have to follow you all day?" he asked crossing his arms as if I was insane "yes, besides what did you expect me to do, sit around answering your questions all day? I have a life" he sighed rubbing his forehead "fine, I will follow"  I started walking towards the dance studio across the street. "you still dance?" he seemed shocked "yes I do, I also teach... don't act so surprised" I mumbled walking in " bonjour Celeste" I smiled signing in, going to the bathroom to change. "so you still dance and you teach Ballet... what else do you still do?" He asked when I came out in a leotard, tutu and ballet shoes and of course the bun "you really get into it... Mrs. Reinhardt would be proud..." he muttered looking me over "most of them are little girls Collin, they want the ballerina picture from their music boxes, the bun and tutu are just a part of the picture."

"I still sketch as you obviously saw this morning, and I still play the instruments... you know, piano, trumpet, flute, violin, and guitar" I sighed going into the studio room "I never knew you were so accomplished" "neither does anyone else.... that's not even the half" I said before starting to warm up "family... I'm guessing they influenced you?" he asked "yeah, I was born into it, my mother was a Prima Ballerina over in Russia where she studied, my father was the conductor of the New York Symphony. My oldest brother, Oscar, plays first Trombone in the New York Symphony, my oldest sister Emmy is on Broadway and has won several Tonys, my other brother Tony, he, bless his heart, is a lawyer, he absolutely despises music, acting, anything that our parents made us do, and then finally there is Maria, my twin, the Ballerina." I sighed "Maria...I remember her way more then you" he said with his face lighting up "everyone does" I said a bit too bitterly and then threw myself into a routine that I absolutely loved, Grabd Jeté, 8 Fouetté to an arabesque into Balencé and up to a Brisé and exchanging into Entrechat back to Balance and then exchanging back to Grand jeté and finishing into a Demi Plié.

"If you can do this, no offense but why the hell are you a model?" he asked "exactly what my parents ask, every time I see them, it's always, oh your still a model, how nice. The thing that really gets me is Maria the actual Ballerina can't even do that! Yet she got the lead part in the Nutcracker and Swan Lake, she can't even do the milk maid dance but she gets starring role." Bitterly I shook my head. "that's why I don't want it, that's why I'm a model, their paths were already paved for them, I'm considered the failure because I'm a model" I sighed stretching my ankles, right as my class started coming in "bonjour, laisse obtenir, aller chaud en haut sur la barre" I instructed which roughly translates to go warm up on the barre.