Getting Into Joffrey

I knew there was going to be blood. I knew there was going to be sweat. I knew there was going to be tears. But I didn't know it would be coming from him. When I signed up for ballet at age six I didn't know that this is where I would be today. Doing 100 releves in coupe on pointe for him. This is what I wanted. I wanted to be good enough to get into Joffrey. And if this was the only way, then I was going to have to suffer through it. This is what I wanted, right?
He was the head instructors second eldest son. At least it was from him, and not Nate. Nate would have killed me. Sam only works me to near death. Yep, that's his name. Samuel Heck. He is 20 years old. He has brown hair. He has blue eyes. My name is Grace West and I'm 18 years old. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I have had a crush on Sam since I began private lessons with him, about two months now. We are both ballet dancer. One of us has gotten into Joffrey and one of us hasn't. One of us is teaching and one of us is learning. On of us is laying on the floor breathing heavily and dripping sweat and one of us is standing over the other with a wicked smile.