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Hello world,
This is my official farewell to this page. I do feel a little down because the site has been with me ever since I started jotting down the first words of my first story ‘ARTSY’. Leaving everything I’ve done here to move to another URL certainly isn’t my wish, but it is necessary (you can read the previous post for the reason).

Since it’s my last post on here, I thought I’d tell you what “7bracelets” represents. Well, I have 7 rubber wristbands that I bought from an online store in Australia. The first day I received them, I was psyched. These 7 wristbands are 7 colours of the rainbow, which symbolises the theme of my stories :D. So there you go… I like to think that even though I can no longer use this link, whatever I started here would follow me by the 7 wristbands. Cheesy, I know… =]]

I also want to clarify something: I am not going to stop writing. In fact, the new site is very much ready, and chapter 6 of ‘ARTSY’ was posted yesterday. Please feel free to send me an email if you’re interested in keeping track on my work, so that I can send you back the link to the new page (My address:

I guess that’s all I have to say for now. Again, thank you for your support, it really means so much to me 🙂




Dear readers,
Thank you all so much for following my stories and giving me all the support that I desperately needed at times. I wasn’t confident of my ability to write and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure if I am now. However, thanks to your encouragement, I do know that writing is a passion to me, and that I won’t give up on it. I’m not yet a real writer but, like Jeanne said, that doesn’t mean I can eventually become one. And yes, Jeanne, i agree with you: the word “eventually” implies hope.
There is something i feel the need to do at the moment, even though it definitely isn’t what i want. I’m going to continue posting my stories, but in a different website. Like some of you have already known, though the response I got was amazing for the most part, that response did not once come from people whose supports I needed the most. Therefore, I figured i might as well not let them see my work at all. When you’re not part of something, you don’t have that right. I dont want them to look at my work, things that I’d put so much time and thoughts and feelings and effort in, and say that this is everything that goes wrong with my life, this is what’s ruining their dream they made for me. They won’t be able to do that. Not anymore. Now you might say that I’m childish, disrespectful and ungrateful. Fine! Think all you want! I do know how to love people. We just have different ways of showing that love, is all.
The new page will be ready next week. For those of you who want to keep track on my work, please leave me a comment on this post, tell me your email address. You can also send me a mail ( and I’ll reply you with the new link. I don’t know if any of you would bother to read on, but I hope you understand.
Once again, thank you for your support, and I wish to see your name in my readers list 🙂

Chapter 1 here:

As I said, writing is a way of me directing a movie in my head. So, I thought I’d show you what the cast of ARTSY looked like :D. You might like it, you might not. If it’s the latter case that applies, just take it as a joke xD.

Here we go:

1. Andrea
Add the blue highlight for yourself :D

2. Esmée/Tori
The love of my life. Again, change the hair colour :D!

3. Kat
This girl is the reason why I love girls =]]

4. Chantelle (She hasn’t made an appearance yet, but you’ll see)
The girl in my dream (which recurred xD)

5. Mandy
I dont know why, but I think she's very highschool-y

6. Kyle
Cutie McPretty :D

Also, I want to acknowledge Kayla Radomski (a dancer on SYTYCD season 5 <3) for inspiring me. She's the reason why I started writing this story 🙂

Chapter 1 here:

Two weeks later

“Guess who’s playing tonight?”
“Rachael Yamagata.”
“Oh my Lord! That’s wicked!” Tori threw herself at Kat, squeezing life out of the bartender. “She’s my favourite, did you know that?” She finally pulled away from the hug; her eyes glistened with pure excitement.
“Of course. That’s why I got her to come.” Kat said joyfully, satisfied with the reaction she received.
“Aww… That’s lovely! Thank you!” The dancer voiced her gratitude, and soon, words were no longer enough.
Thank you, Rachael, thought Kat as she smiled into the kiss.

The morning after

“Andie, look at you!”
“Thank you.”
“The boys are ogling, I’m telling you.”
“They always are” Andrea pulled an apathetic face, her feet consciously moved faster in order to avoid Mandy’s forecasted interrogation.
“You know what I’m talking about, Andie.”
Knowing that she was unable to escape Mandy’s persistence and thirst for gossip, Andie turned to face her friend. Play it cool, Andrea.
“You’re dressing up, don’t deny it!” said Mandy, her face demanded an explanation.
“What do you suggest? Going out naked?” Andrea replied, slightly irritated.
Mandy rolled her eyes. Something in her brain had realized that Andie’s decision to keep her mouth shut was final. However, just like her father, the blonde had a mind that was resistant to changes. She wasn’t going to let the redhead get away untouched.
“So… how’s the new girl?”
“Which one?” Andrea mumbled, silently praying that Mandy was the biggest idiot in the world, that she would drop the subject. Since when did the new girl receive that much attention, especially when her background was a big unknown to everybody? Besides, it wasn’t that strenuous a task to detect Andrea’s intolerance of the other girl and interpret it. Or was it?
“Can you stop acting like everyone is wasting your time, Andie?” said Mandy, her voice startlingly unruffled. Andrea swallowed hard; a sudden chill traveled up and down her spine. What was that supposed to mean?
“I care,” Mandy continued “even when you believe that I don’t.” The headmaster’s daughter lifted her gaze, only to find blue eyes staring back at her, a hint of dejection flashed across them almost unnoticed. “I want to be a real friend, Andie, but why won’t you let me?”
With her question hanging in the air, Mandy shook her head and walked into the classroom, not one bit oblivious to the crème de la crème of the dancers stopping dead on the hallway.
“Miss Moss, are you planning to honor us with your participation today?”
He didn’t mean it, Andrea thought to herself, he didn’t mean to say “honor”. Sensing Mr. Geller’s, together with everyone else’s eyes on her, Andrea walked towards a seat next to the window, one that was distant from Mandy’s, and slumped against the chair.
“Sorry.” muttered Andrea, still feeling the sting of Mandy’s word. Suddenly, she wondered if the apology was simply a show of courtesy, or in reality an expression of regret. Unsure of the answer, Andrea sighed. It’s gonna be a long day.

Unlike the stereotype whereby dancers were hardly considered cerebral, Andrea was, in fact, quite a highbrow. She liked to think that the best thing her birth parents, whoever they were, possessed was scholastic ability, which had been passed on to her. Of course, that most precious thing could’ve been her, but obviously they weren’t gifted with enough wisdom to realize that, which gave rise to Andrea’s curiosity: if her parents knew her now, would they regret what they had done?
“Miss Moss, are you considering asking the birds out there to make a piece of music for your new routine?”
If bad humor was a crime, the biggest super villain’s name would be Mike Geller.
“No, Mr. Geller.” said Andrea, but not before rolling her eyes “But now that you mention it, I might consider the option.” She added.
One thing high school had taught Andrea was that people laughed didn’t necessarily mean there was something funny. In this case, the purpose behind the giggles from the rest of the class at her unintended joke was either to embarrass the disliked Math teacher – Mr. Geller, to fawn over “the dancing bomb” – herself, or both. Their ultimate outcome, nonetheless, was to make themselves feel good. Then again, wasn’t it what everyone would do?

The lesson finally resumed and Andrea, for peace’s sake, started to pretend like a goody two-shoes. As much as she hated to admit it, being bookish was what had helped her to become the person that she was. The scholarships only came to the ones who managed to excel in both artistic and academic fields, and Andrea was no doubt one of those people. Andrea couldn’t picture where she would be without the financial aid, but exactly where she wouldn’t be: Victoire.
Mathematics had, outrageously, become Andrea’s favorite class. The reason was simple: Esmée Russell wasn’t there. It was funny, really, now that Andrea thought about it. She went to school six days a week, two of which was for academic lessons, three for dance class and one for her rehearsals with Esmée. Fifty hours per week at school and the British girl was in her sight forty-eight. The question was: when they didn’t see each other, did Esmée think of Andrea like Andrea thought about her? Or did she think about…
Thanks to her strategic location next to the window, Andrea had a perfect view of the street, thus could spy on people’s entrance and exit. That could’ve been an enjoyable thing to do, especially in Math classes, but this time it certainly wasn’t. Down there, right in front the gate of Victoire, was Kat’s Jeep, one that Andrea could always tell apart even if it was placed among ten other Jeeps. It certainly wasn’t mere coincidence that Esmée Russell was standing right next to the indigo-painted car, blowing kisses to the driver. In no time, a thousand questions started exploding in Andrea’s conflicted mind: wasn’t Esmée supposed to be in Arts History class? Why was she late? Why was she with Kat? Did her best friend lie to her when she said they weren’t dating? Why didn’t anyone tell her anything? Were they together last night? What did they do?
“Do you really wanna know, Andie?” echoed a little voice.
No. No, I don’t. Andrea answered soundlessly and closed her eyes, giving her best shot at shutting out the monster that was developing somewhere in the back of her mind.

Andrea went through the next two periods like a ghost: silently and unnoticeably. Well, maybe not the unnoticeable part, because “who are we talking about?!”, but it was true that Andrea couldn’t care less. Also, the fact that Esmée Russell was in the same room with her acting normal didn’t help much in improving the situation. Before the lesson started, Andrea had told herself not to steal a single glance at the British girl, but from time to time she ended up looking her direction, and eventually had to pay for her lack of her willpower…
Andrea stared at Esmée, wavering between looking away and returning the smile that was brightening her divine features. She weighed the options: neglecting Miss Congeniality would make her the antagonist of the whole story, but smiling back would mean the beginning of a more intimate connection with the girl with the purple streak, which wasn’t what Andrea needed. Just when Andrea made up her mind, Esmée turned her attention back to Shakespeare, completely oblivious to a certain redhead twinkling behind her.

“Mandy! Mandy, we need to talk!” Andrea cried out while sprinting through the crowd.
“Sorry, I’m a little busy right now.” Mandy said bitterly, not bothering to turn around to face her friend.
“Amanda Kelsey Wilson!” yelled Andrea impatiently. Though it drew in unwanted attention from practically the entire school, the method did work in making Mandy stop. Giving the audience a threatening glare, Andrea closed in on the young Miss Wilson, before pulling her away from the public’s scrutiny by the wrist. “We need to talk.”

“What?” Mandy yanked her hand away from Andrea’s grasp, annoyance clearly written on her face.
“I want to talk to you about earlier this morning” said Andrea calmly.
“What about it?” Now it was Mandy’s turn to play naïve.
“Look, I do regard you as a friend.” Andrea said sincerely “In fact, you and Kat are probably the greatest things that ever happened to me.”
Seeing that Mandy had already started to take her words into consideration, Andrea decided to press on, making the best of the blonde’s sweet nature.
“I trust you, Mandy, I do. It’s just…” Andrea breathed out heavily. Intimacy was never easy “It’s just… You know I’m not good at these things.”
“You know, Andie,” Mandy started speaking while staring into space, looking for the playback of her memories “when you got into Victoire, my Dad told me that you’d be able to handle everything that’s thrown at you.” The blonde smiled at the thought and raised her head, her eyes searching for Andrea’s “All you need is more training.”
“Really?” Andrea perked up instantly; her eyes glistened with gratification. Did Dr “Pucker” Wilson really say that about her?
“No, not really.” Just like that and Mandy was back to her true self. She rolled her eyes “He said that you were a big idiot.”
“Awww…” Andrea purred, knowing for certain that her friend was sold “You know you love idiots.” Andrea draped an arm around the blonde’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. Mandy, not really in the mood for a squabble, finally gave in and laughed out loud.
“You’re paying for whatever I order at Kat’s today I’m telling ya” the headmaster’s daughter voiced her demand, her arms returning the redhead’s hug.
“As long as you give me a drive, sweetheart.” Replied Andrea happily.
A short distance from there, the girl with the purple streak frowned; her eyes followed the giggly dancers until they moved behind the lockers together in an embrace, and disappeared.

“Oh my God!” Kat exclaimed loudly “Mandy! I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I’ve missed you too baby!” Mandy matched Kat’s enthusiastic greeting, before giving the bartender a kiss on the chin, their own scandalous way of saying not only “hi”, but also “We’ll hook up in another life”.
“Hey lovebirds!” Andrea gave her friends a once-over and smirked “I feel so left out. I could’ve considered a threesome, you know.”
“Hello to you too!” said Kat gleefully.
Too merry for comfort, Andrea thought, see what that English brat’s done to you.
“Where’s your smoky assistant?” asked Mandy.
“Taking a day off. I told her she needed to rest.”
Yeah right, like anyone cares. You probably kept her up all night yesterday, the little monster inside Andrea continued ranting.
“What’re you talking about, Andie?” Kat furrowed her brows.
Did I just say it out loud? Andrea jumped; Kat’s question somehow threw her into a tizzy. She swallowed.
“Well, I saw you driving her to school this morning, so I assumed that you two um… kept each other company last night.”
“I knew it!” stated Mandy triumphantly “Jason said that he saw you all over Tori on the dance floor last night.” She added with excitement “You and her will totally make a hot couple, Kat!”
Andrea stood completely still, stupefied. A sick feeling gradually formed in her stomach, then traveled up her throat where it blocked words from coming out, words that she knew would hurt both Kat and their friendship. She studied her friend; the bartender looked like she was run over by rage for one moment, and perfectly tranquil the next.
“I do agree with you, M, that Tori and I will definitely make a good couple. I actually like her a lot,” Kat eyed Andrea carefully “but you guys got it all wrong. Last night she had a few drinks, and ended up toppling all over the place. That’s why I took her back to my place, that’s all.”
Andrea stared into Kat’s eyes, trying to track down one trace of deception.
“Nothing happened between us.” Kat emphasized, while challenging Andrea’s gaze.
“Well, I hope you keep it that way.” Andrea muttered under her breath and casted down her eyes, suddenly disgusted by herself and what she just said.

“Hey beautiful, miss me?”
“Kat.” Tori said gently; some people just knew how to make her smile “As a matter of fact, yes. How was your day?”
A momentary pause on the other side, before Kat picked up her reassuring tone “It’s fine.” Another pause. “Tori, I’ve to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. I have something to ask you, too.”
“You go first.”
“Alright…” Tori hesitated; it felt so wrong, asking Kat about this “I just wanted to know if Andrea and Dr Wilson’s daughter are together.”
“No!” Kat laughed “Mandy’s as straight as an arrow. Besides, she already promised to marry me in our next life. But don’t worry, I’m all yours now.”
“That’s interesting” Tori breathed out, relieved. At times like this, she liked to believe that it was the musicality and warmth in Kat’s voice that put her at ease. “What did you want to tell me anyway?”
“Oh… That.” Inhaling deeply, the bartender continued “Andie saw me dropping you off this morning; Mandy’s friend saw us dancing yesterday, so she thought that um… she thought that we hooked up.”
“And what did you say?”
“That you were drunk and I brought you back to my place and nothing happened.”
Tori closed her eyes, an image of the redhead questioning her best friend clear in her head. “What about the truth?”
“That is the truth, Tori.” Replied Kat, her confusion audible.
“I mean” the English girl rubbed her eyes “did you tell her we’re dating?” she asked, afraid of whatever answer she might get.
“Look, I’d love to tell everybody that; you’re a wonderful person.” Kat explained slowly, imagining a smile on her assistant’s face “But Andie, you know how difficult she can get.”
“Yeah, I know” Tori spoke softly; feeling the throb of her heart. She hates you.
“Just give me some time, okay? I’ll prove to her just how lovely you are. She’ll love you, I promise.”
“Okay.” You don’t want that to happen.
“Hey, I gotta go. It’s crazy over here.” Said Kat apologetically.
“Sure. And Kat?”
“I can’t wait to see you.” I can’t wait to forget all of this.
“Neither can I.” Kat smiled “Goodnight, Tori.”
“Goodnight, Kat.” Tori whispered, hoping that Kat wouldn’t hear the qualms in the voice. As the other line went dead, she exhaled into the cold night air. Why couldn’t I see you earlier, Kat?

Chapter 1:

Calm, calm, calm, calm…
Andrea continued ranting in her mind; her footsteps quickened, giving an excuse for her frantic heartbeat. Damn that British girl and her fanatical eyes! Why couldn’t they just leave hers alone? Staring at her own face in the mirror, she instantly found her peace of mind. Andrea had been alone all her life. Growing up without any memories of her parents, the girl in the mirror was the only family she had. In those eighteen years of her life, nobody, except Kat, had come close to understanding her. She didn’t let them. What’s the point, she thought, when she could get on just fine by herself? Wasn’t it easier to just think for yourself and not care at all about what people said? Of course it was, and that explained why Esmée’s image on her mind had bothered her so much. Part of Andrea was angry with herself: if blocking people out had become such a routine, why on earth did she let the British girl get to her? There wasn’t anything special about Esmée, other than her warm brown eyes, her luscious fair skin, her accomplished dance skill, her gracious manner and, of course, the fact that she was exquisite. Now that Andrea thought about it, she herself wasn’t lack of any of those qualities. She could just look into the mirror and fall in love with herself, could she? Wait a minute, did I just say…

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Andrea jumped. Sometimes she just couldn’t understand Kat at all. Most of the time, normal people would take someone’s going to the bathroom as their excuse to be alone, but Kat obviously wasn’t included in this group.
As Andrea put herself together, Kat’s question slowly seeped into her mind. Who is?
“Who?” She asked, her brow furrowed with confusion, and annoyance.
“Tori.” Kat sighed, sounding like she was stating the obvious.
Andrea searched through her mind, trying to find someone she knew with that name, trying hard. And it soon came back to her. Esmée Victoria Russel. Ez-mae. Tori. Grandma. Me. For a second, she felt like her steam, if blown off, could just burn anyone.
“You’ve hooked up with a bunch of prettier girls, Kat.” Andrea glared at her best friend, hoping to make Kat feel sorry for saying such a thing that could tick her off during her alone time. Apparently, the bartender did not believe in regrets.
“Come on, Andie, they ain’t got nothing on her! This girl is different. She’s so… I don’t know… sophisticated, and overwhelming. It’s like… dating the Queen.” Kat voiced her judgment, a little too dreamily for comfort. Despite her conscious mind screaming to take control, the bartender continued gazing at the ceiling. With a certain European girl crossing her mind, she smiled. What was she, a lovesick teenager? Oh well, when Kat dropped out of high school three years ago, she knew it would come back to her one day.
“What, you’re dating her?” screeched Andrea, utter disbelief printed on her face.
Way to kill the mood.

Kat rolled her eyes, her sanity now returned. With the aid of a gulp of air, the bartender began to speak.
“No I’m not. I met her like… what… a week ago.”
Though carefully camouflaged, Andrea’s sigh came out clearly as an evidence of relief, and doubts were instantly stirred up inside Kat’s head. She studied the redhead from head to toe, before sending her a calculatedly probing stare.
“What is up with that?” she interrogated.
“With what?” Andrea chose to play naïve and Kat could tell. Her eyes were avoiding hers. Uh-oh. Looks like someone’s busted!
“You and Tori. Why did you freak thinking we’re dating, and went all “Phew!” knowing that we’re not?”
Ah-ha! Let’s see what you have to respond to this, thought Kat triumphantly. Deep inside her, the bartender was dying to know the reason for her best friend’s sudden intrusion into her love life, or rather a life that was lack of love. Whatever.
Andrea opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. After a short while of considering what to say, she shook her head lightly, now settled on the truth.
“I don’t like her.”

And she immediately regretted it.
Kat’s eyes grew from big to massive, her pupils dilated. In that moment, the originally blonde’s vanity was probably the only reason to keep her baby blues from bursting. In order to turn the bathroom into Broadway, Kat placed her both hands on her heart; her eyes closed and her chest rose and fell steadily, her sigh audible. Blonde or brunette, Katherine Taylor was clearly a born actress.
“Why not? She’s amazing, inside and out! You’re her dance partner, you should know.” Oh yeah, why didn’t I remember that? “The Andie that I know never bothers to lay eyes on someone who’s not worth some attention, let alone play their lover. If you let Tori be all over your body, that means this girl is definitely something big, isn’t she?”
Andrea swallowed hard. Kat’s sensibility obviously wasn’t in a very good shape that day, but her sense wasn’t one bit tarnished. What do I have to say to that?
“She uh… she um…” Shut up! You’re stuttering, idiot! “She’s really arrogant”
“Oh em gee! Andrea Moss is talking about arrogance!” Kat smirked, despite the deadly glare she received from a certain beauty across the room.
“Stop it!” Andrea snapped. Enough was enough, she wasn’t the kind of girl that others could pick on. Seeing Kat’s hands lifting up in defeat through the corners of her eyes, Andrea continued “And her accent is seriously annoying.”
Right then, in the bathroom of ARTSY, the impossible happened: Kat’s eyes grew even wider than before, this time with the company of her mouth.
“Are you kidding me? That accent is the sexiest thing ever! If I were you, I’d die happy when she called me Ahn-dre-ah.”
“Call me that one more time and you’ll regret it!”
Kat flinched. Maybe she’d gone too far, maybe Andie was honestly uncomfortable with the presence of the British beauty. Even though there was no way she could agree with her best friend’s perspective, Andie’s blazing eyes at that moment were enough to remind her of self-control.
“Sorry!” Kat said apologetically, and she meant it. Andie finally gave in, her eyes softened as she let out a sigh.
“Look, I got nothing against her. I’m just… I’m just not comfortable with seeing her all the time, okay?”
“Okay.” Said the bartender sincerely. Finally a good reason.
“I’ve to go. It’s been a long day.” Andrea exhaled, deciding to avoid the awkwardness she’d certainly be facing if she chose to stay.
“Yeah, go home and rest, it’s gonna be a hectic time for you, with all those performance thingy. Remember to cook though, since junks are no good for your trunks.”
“Thank you, Mother!” Andrea smiled, the first wholehearted smile of the day. She took a step closer and gave Kat a grateful hug. Stepping out of the bathroom, the dancer stole a glance at a girl at the bar and headed for the exit, before her heart had a chance to start pounding.

Katherine Taylor used to be an ordinary girl, until she decided that she wasn’t. Though born in a devoted Christian family, she had never believed in God. Why would you want someone else to control your life, someone who you can’t even see, little Katherine always said. Growing up in France, an alluring but still foreign land, Katherine had learnt how to fight, to cry and to survive. There were moments when she believed that her life could be controlled by someone else, someone who she worshipped. The day the sixteen-year-old Katherine knew about love was the day her heart was shattered, the day she realized love was never enough. Leaving behind the capital of magnificent light as well as all the memories and agony of a first love, Katherine went back home, where she met Andrea. Calling herself Kat, she dyed her golden hair dark and started working as a bartender. Life was good, the drink was good, the music was good and the people had slowly warmed her heart. “Living with fractures is much better than dying without them”, a famous author once said. Kat wondered, however, if it was true when applied to her heart. All those years, she had been looking for someone who could fill her emptiness, but not once did she fall. Not until a week ago. Kat always had a thing for accents. Though Tori could never make her breath hitch or set her skin on fire without even touching her the way… well… someone did, her unbelievable wit and elegance had no doubt tugged at the bartender’s heartstrings.

“Yo, Kat!” said a handsome young man at the counter. Kyle, a soon-to-be super model, was no stranger to the people at ARTSY. After confiding in the bartender whenever he was drunk, he and Kat had become a great duo.
“Yo! Where’ve you been?” Kat beamed, her spirit suddenly lifted. Kyle was a good friend. Not seeing him for one whole month had certainly left her yearning for their sessions of checking girls out together.
“Sorry,” Kyle offered an apologetic smile, one that never failed to melt the ladies’ hearts “Life’s been pretty crazy for me. I just came back from Paris…”
Paris… France… “Ne me touche pas. Je ne t’aime pas”… The memories came back to Kat, a certain someone’s words echoed in her head mockingly. Time doesn’t heal; it doesn’t even make the wound hurt any less.
“Hello? You’re there?”
“Yeah,” Kat’s head snapped up, her smile came back right away. Only this time, it was one of those smiles she’d perfected since drama club “sorry I just… spaced out.”
“Well…” completely clueless, Kyle continued “I’m going to move to Paris. I’ve a six-month contract there. You’ll see; I’ll be the next big thing.”
Kat was listening to Kyle but only heard a deafening voice of her own thoughts. She had been fooling herself the whole time, pretending to believe that she had finally got over the past, only to be on the verge of breaking down every time something reminded her of it. This wasn’t the first time she lost herself to sentimentality and there was still no lesson learnt. Clenching her right hand into a fist, Kat set her jaw. It’s time to move on.

“Hey” Kat purred, her eyes seductive.
“Hey” replied Tori nonchalantly. She then realized something unusual and eyed her curiously “What?”
“What’re you doing this Thursday?” Kat made sure to pause for a moment to send the British girl the “signal” before she started talking, her voice deliberately drown in the background music.
“What?” Tori asked, after failing at lips reading, as predicted. Time to pull out the big gun!
Kat leaned in closer, her mouth landed right beside Tori’s ear. “What do you say about this Thursday?” the bartender whispered, her lips slightly touching the younger girl’s earlobe.
Even though Tori didn’t seem to be repulsed, she was clearly torn between taking a step back and letting herself enjoy the sensation. And then, the dancer gently turned her head sideway to look at Kat. Ever slowly, Tori’s brown eyes were set on Kat’s, both of theirs showing a different hidden intention.
“I’d love to.” she mouthed, her breath warm on the older girl’s face.

Chapter 5:

Chapter 1:

[Esmée’s POV]

When I was three, I decided that I’d become a professional dancer. To be perfectly honest, I don’t remember how or why that thought ever crossed my mind, but I’m quite glad it did. Dancing comes natural to me the way singing in the shower does to some people. When all the clothes are taken off, the world around you seems to be shut down, too. You are left alone with yourself, and then the music comes. Most of the time you don’t even realise that you’re singing, until your voice becomes too loud that you start to hear people shouting “Shut up!”. Of course, you are not going to stop just because people ask you to, because their response doesn’t matter all that much. Besides, you love singing in the shower, and that counts.

There is a slight difference between dancing and singing in the shower though: as a dancer, you don’t shower alone. Instead, you’ll be with your partner, your bodies tangled and your souls as one. Partnership between two dancers can only be achieved when both learn to give up their defences and show the other the most vulnerable side of them. That leads to a problem I myself am facing: I have never been able to be naked in that shower with Andrea Moss.

“Ez-mae” Andrea said my name, huskily as if it wasn’t real. Her blue eyes are set on mine, so bright that I could feel the perplexity in them reflected by my own.
“Small world, eh?” I heard my voice, escaping my throat as a soft whisper, my eyes never leaving Andrea’s. I’m not going to lie: when I accepted the offer to be Kat’s assistant, I never saw this happen. This bar, ARTSY, had become a place for me to remind myself that dancing wasn’t the only thing my life was about, and Andrea wasn’t the only girl my eyes could see. Yet here she was, that righteous pride did not once vanish from her face, her auburn locks were in a mess, just like the thoughts, right then, racing in my mind.
“You guys know each other?”
Andrea blinked; her eyes changed their direction to meet Kat’s. I mirrored her action, my mouth muscles forcing a smile before I, too, looked at Kat, trying to appear semi-normal.
“Andrea and I are dance partners.”
“Esmée never said she worked here!”
We spoke at the same time, disguised tenseness evident in both our voices.
“And it seems like we have great partnership” I giggled, consciously adding one more layer of defence to my camouflage. To make myself more convincing, I turned my head to face Andrea, giving her my best grin, only to see her returning me with a small smile, one that I’d never seen before. Andrea had never smiled at me. In fact, all she ever offered me were a few half-hearted movements of muscles and some occasional snickers. I made her feel uncomfortable, I think. Most Americans do when they hear British accent, so I guess I couldn’t blame Andrea for that. There was one thing I couldn’t quite understand though: while I thought an irritated Andrea was the most adorable thing one could ever see, how was it possible for a smiling Andrea to be so much more delightful?

Andrea Moss had become a brand here in VSA. Right when I walked through the door to enter the school, Andrea was everywhere: A photo of her was on the wall at the main entrance, together with other supposedly “legends” of VSA; her name was mentioned in most gossips that I heard and of course, the audition announcement. The first impression that I had of Andrea, without even meeting her, was that in VSA, she was a symbol of popularity, of perfection, of beauty, talent and, as a matter of fact, lesbianism. I’m not even sure if it hadn’t been my curiosity that had gotten the best of me, would I still have gone to the audition? There was one thing I knew for certain though: when Andrea caught my eyes, I found out that the rumours I heard were all true: Andrea Moss was a goddess, and also a gay one. Interestingly enough: so was I.

Someone’s sudden laughter brought me back to reality. Noticing the puzzled look on both Andrea’s and my face, Kat quickly ceased her laughing and cleared her throat. Throwing me an inquisitive glance, she questioned: “You called her Ahn-dre-ah?” she chuckled and turned to Andrea “And you call her… what? Ez-mae?”
“Isn’t that her name?” Andrea suddenly called out. The next thing I knew, Andrea’s attention was directed to me, her eyes inquisitive. “Is that your name?”

“My name is Esmée Victoria Russell. Most people call me by my middle name, Victoria, or its short form, Tori” I spoke slowly, enjoying the look of pure enlightenment on Andrea’s and Kat’s faces. Feeling the need to spice up our encounter, I decided to add some humour “My grandma and you” I looked at Andrea “call me Esmée.”
Worked as a charm! Right when I finished my sentence, Kat split her sides. She had a nice laugh, I must say. In fact, Kat had always been a charming lady. She has everything a girl could ever wish for: beauty, judgement, good nature, humour and, of course, financial securities. Not only that, she also possesses an attitude of a rock star, what had made her the centre of attention for anyone that ever visited ARTSY, and the object of affection for many of them. To be quite frank, since Kat fitted every “criteria” that I once set for my dream partner when I was a child, I actually thought we could make a delightful couple. If only I hadn’t already been…

“Uhm… I’m going to the bathroom.”
Andrea’s voice always did a good job of making me forget everything else. This time, when my head had sufficient time to turn to face her, Andrea had turned on her heels. I watched her retreating back and the way her auburn curls bounced against her exposed shoulder. My whole life of dancing and trying to control my body had taught me well. I knew that gait: her arms muscles were tense, her shoulders moving up and down faster, so was her breathing, her footsteps quickened. Andrea was on edge. I had yet again made her uncomfortable.
However, this wasn’t the Andrea that I saw. She wasn’t the conceited judge who yawned during the audition and she certainly wasn’t the egotistical dancer who pouted when someone tried to correct her pronunciation. In fact, she was much like the girl whose body I held and skin I touched on the dance floor, the girl whose intensity set my mind on fire. She was the Andrea that I knew.

“Sub me for a while, I’ll be right back!” said Kat, the second person to turn her back on me and walk away in less than a minute. “Andie!” she called.


The first thing I learnt in dance class was how to loosen my body and let myself let go. Dancers like me come across as having multiple personalities. We can be just anyone on stage: a princess, an angel, a devil, an ordinary person, a dream. Most people can’t see us the way we really are behind the smiling faces and bewitching makeup. You see, it’s all about the acting. Once you get to the stage, the tears and agony behind it are gone. Well, they should be, because up there, the mask is all that matters. As far as I know, both Andrea and I are very good at keeping up with the play. However, there was one thing I was determined to do: to take off Andrea’s mask.

Chapter 4:

Okay, I know I said “no post until November”, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. I promise this is the last post until then though :D. Anyway, this is a short story called ‘Jenny’, and as you can see, it’s not the same with my usual writing style. I kinda like it though :D. Enjoy, and thanks for reading 🙂

I watch helplessly as Nate’s lips draw closer to hers. Jenny slowly closes her eyes, looking much like the way she did two days ago. Their lips finally come together, breaking my heart into a million pieces in the process. Everything suddenly becomes blurry as I felt salted water at a corner of my mouth. My tears tasted the same on my lips as they did on hers. Only this time, her lips are not on mine.

2 days ago

“Nikki, would you mind helping me with Maths after school? I don’t think I got what Mr Brown said.” Jenny smiled sweetly, her head turned slightly to the left. Ten years of being her best friend had taught me well. I knew that look: she was so going to make me do her homework.
Jenny knew too well how much impact her smile had on me and, to be honest, I didn’t quite mind her taking advantage of it. After all, doing Jenny’s homework meant getting to spend more time alone with her, plus I was willing to do anything just to see her smile.

I nodded, my lips curved in uniform with Jenny’s. She leaned in closer, her lips now gently touching my cheek. I closed my eyes, taking in the smell of her hair. We hadn’t changed much for ten years. Jenny still preferred kissing my left cheek rather than the right one, the scent of lavender from her golden locks never failed to intoxicate me, and my stomach had never stopped break-dancing every time she looked at me.
Jenny pulled away, too soon if you asked me. Then again, if her lips were on my cheek a second longer, my skin just might have burnt.
“Thanks Nikki!” she said, brightening her face and mine one more time with her smile.
“Anytime.” I breathed, looking deeply into her eyes, willingly losing myself in them. Anytime, Jenny. You can have me anytime.

I shifted uncomfortably on the bench. Normally, Jenny would be sketching our images on her textbooks while I finished her Maths homework. However, it seemed strange today as she was playing with her pencil restlessly while her eyes never left me. I know what you’re thinking, how did I know she was looking at me if I was looking at her homework? Well, how do you think I managed to look at Jenny all the time if it wasn’t for my ability to feel her presence? Love is blind, my friend, plus all my eyes could see was Jenny. Cheesy, I know, but if you’ve ever been in love, you’ll understand.
“What’re ya doing looking at me like that?” I asked, forcing myself to look up and be lost in her eyes once again.
“Uhm… No-nothing. It’s just…” Jenny laughed nervously, her head turned lightly to one side as if to shake something out of her mind. Closing her eyes, Jenny inhaled deeply and finally spoke up, her voice was so husky it almost came out as a whisper.
“You’re so beautiful, Nikki.”

All my life, Jenny took my words away from me. This time was no exception as I felt my tongue hardened. My mouth opened but no words were formed. I felt a deep blush finding its way to my cheeks as my breathing suddenly became faster. It was then that I realized something unusual with Jenny. Usually she would giggle at my inaudibility but this time she didn’t. She was gazing at me, a hint of sadness flashed across her beautiful face. I tried to look into her eyes for more clues but couldn’t find any. Instead, I saw myself in them.
“Do you want to get out of here? Forget the homework!” She finally tore her gaze away, now looking much more composed but less like herself. Before I could respond to the question nor voice my worry, Jenny stood up and started gathering her books, leaving me no choice but to follow her. As soon as we got into her car, Jenny started driving. I looked at the road intently, then at Jenny, trying to study her expression. No words were said during the long drive, until Jenny pulled off her car at a corner of an empty street near my house and finally broke the silence.

“Nikki, I can’t be your friend anymore.”
“You heard it, I can’t be your friend anymore.” Jenny said coldly, her words cutting me into pieces. There’s no way this can be true. She’s just joking, Jenny is joking, my best friend is trying to be funny.
I laughed hollowly, my thoughts spinning in my head. I uttered, to Jenny and more to myself “Stop joking, you’re not funny, Jenny.”
“I’M NOT JOKING! I DON’T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE!” She screamed. Whenever Jenny screamed, she would cry an instant after. And she did. One, two, three drops of tear from my beautiful Jenny’s eyes…
“I don’t want to see you anymore.” Sobbed Jenny, tears falling uncontrollably from her eyes. Without warning, she opened the door of the car and rushed outside.

Unconsciously, I hurried outside, too. Only when my palms instinctively wiped away the water blocking my view did I realized that I was crying. Right, I forgot no matter how contagious Jenny’s smile was, her tears would always take a much shorter time to get to me. I bolted after Jenny, thinking of nothing but how to make her stop crying.
“Jenny!” I cried out her name, desperately trying to get her to look back at me. There was one thing I failed to remember: No matter how fast I tried to run, I would never catch her. “Jenny, stop! Please, you know I can’t do this.”
She stopped, her body shaking. I let out a sigh of relief as I collapsed on the road, not paying any attention to the tears washing away all my makeup. Jenny turned back to face me, and, all of a sudden, dashed her way to me. Before I knew it, she had pulled me into her arms, embracing me so tight I couldn’t breathe. I held her close, inhaling her scent, the scent I was so addicted to, the scent I wished to smell for life.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Nikki.” She sobbed like a child, her grip on me tightened. The next thing I knew, we were nine again, holding each other for dear life, promising to never part.

After what felt like an eternity, our tears had dried and our breathing had settled; Jenny loosened her grasp. We stood up as she took my hand and lead me to the pavement where we leaned against the wall of an old building. Jenny’s eyeliner was melted by her own tears and now smearing all over her face. I couldn’t care any less. To me, Jenny was the most beautiful girl in the whole world, and that fact never changed. We stood and watched each other for a while until something reminded me of why we were here in the first place. I started to speak, my mouth shaking.
It then dawned on me that Jenny, just like me, had temporarily forgot about the situation we were in as panic was written clearly on her face. She started trembling again, until I placed my hands on two sides of her neck and kissed her forehead, what I knew could always calm her down.

Jenny took my hands in hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. She then drew in a deep breath before pulling me closer. I stepped into her arms, finding myself holding her the second time of the day. Only this time, Jenny was trailing wet kisses along my neck and shoulder. My breath hitched.
“What… what are you doing, Jenny?” I tried to speak but my words came out as husky whispering. The love of my life was kissing me just like how I always imagined her to, and the way she was sucking my skin was making it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes tight as Jenny continued to set my body on fire.
“Do you… feel it… Nikki?” she muttered between her kisses “do you feel it?”. Before I could give her a response by the English language, Jenny licked my neck. Despite myself, I let out a moan, and that probably gave Jenny an answer as her mouth left my neck and her face traveled north to meet mine, our foreheads touching.
“I feel it, too, Nikki. I want you. I… I love you.”
Her words were so beautiful, Jenny was so beautiful that I forgot how to breathe. I caressed her cheeks with my hands, my fingers tracing every feature of her face, tracing everything about her that I always love. Her face was again wet with tears and I’m sure mine was, too. That was the moment I would remember forever: The love of my life said she loved me.
“I love you. I always have.” I whispered.
We smiled. And Jenny closed her eyes, her lips tremblingly moved closer to mine. I made sure to register to my mind how she looked then before I, too, closed my eyes and let myself lost in her.

When Jenny’s lips met mine, I understood the true meaning of paradise. A whole new world of sensation came to us when our lips, our tongues, our souls synchronized. She made me feel loved just the way I wanted to be loved, by her. Jenny tasted like raspberry mixed with red apple that we shared during lunch. After several blissful moments, Jenny was the first to pull away after giving me one last soft peck. I lazily opened my eyes and looked into hers.
“You have all of me, Jenny.” I spoke softly, letting her know that I meant it.
Then I realized I must’ve said something wrong Jenny immediately let go of me and took a step back; her eyes refused to meet mine.
“What’s wrong, baby? Did I do something wrong?” I desperately tried to find a way to fix it, to hold on to the best thing that ever happened to me.
“It’s not your fault, Nikki.” Jenny finally said, her voice broken. My baby was crying again and it hurt me so bad to not be able to stop it. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I can’t be with you, I’m not strong enough. I… I can’t.”
Once again, Jenny’s lips were on mine. She kissed me with everything she had, she kissed me forcefully with tongue, with teeth, with her mind and her soul. I kissed her back with mine. I knew fully well that this was the second and the last kiss I’d ever have with her, that after today things were never going to be the same between us, that there might not even be anything between us at all, that Jenny would go on and fool herself by dating a bunch of boys, that I would have to watch her without being able to stop it. I kissed her with all the frustration, all the love, all the life I had in me. I wanted her to remember this forever, to feel the pain every single time she thinks back, to regret it every moment of her life, just like how I knew I would. I kissed her to tell her that she was the love of my life, for now and forever.
Just abruptly as how she came to me, her lips left mine and she turned her back on me to walk away one more time. I watched her car turning corner, still tasting raspberry and apple mixed with her tears and mine, my skin still burning from her touch, my head still spinning with thoughts and feelings and images of Jenny, the first girl that I ever loved, the girl that I will always love.

She looks up from behind Nate’s shoulder; her eyes catch mine. Even from this distance, I still can see that sorrow deep in her eyes. My whole life of knowing and loving her has taught me well. She is so going to cry when she’s left alone. Only this time, I’m not there for her.


This is Chapter 2 for ARTSY. Sorry for the late update and I’m afraid the next chapters won’t be out anytime soon. I’ve exams next month which will last until November, so I don’t think I can spend much time on this, even though I really want to. So… your patience will really be appreciated. So are your comments :P.

Thanks for reading! Enjoy and have a nice day 🙂


Chapter 1 here:


The First Confrontation

Taking short looks at the two sides of the hallway, Andrea decided it was safe to leave the dance studio. Inwardly, she felt thankful that the school had given her the whole Dance Studio 1, also the biggest studio, just for the “little” performance at the end of the term. Being granted full authority to decide the accessibility of the room, Andrea was glad she could use it as a place to avoid people, by which she meant Mandy. Ever since that Ez-mee girl started dancing, she had been cursing herself silently for telling Mandy that she’d definitely get through the audition. Now that Andrea understood why Asian people said you couldn’t foretell anything, it was too late. She’d have to face Mandy and listen to her mental breakdown sooner or later, however Andrea decided it was better later rather than sooner.

Throwing some last glances at the empty hallway, she began to leave the studio, pulling up her hood in the process. Just in case. One can never be too careful.


A thunderous sound of her name, strangely familiar, echoed in the hallway, startling Andrea. Damn Mandy and her perfect timing. Taking a deep breath, Andrea turned around to face her friend, ready for the worst. Apparently she was right. One can never be too careful.

The day after came before Andrea knew it, that was the first day Andrea and her newly chosen partner practiced together. Checking the clock for the millionth time, she let out a frustrated sigh, not understanding why she had woken up to go to school so early. An hour spent on makeup and choosing the best outfit didn’t stop her from being in school 30 minutes earlier. Then again, why did she even waste so much time in front of the mirror today? It wasn’t normal, and Andrea didn’t have any explanation for it. Either that or she’d rather not have one.

Time went by, very slowly might Andrea add. It was two minutes before the practice started and Ez-mae was nowhere in sight. Sitting alone in the studio, Andrea could feel her patience starting to vanish. In attempt to calm herself down, she started walking back and forth, thinking of what she was going to say when Ez-mae came. Lost in her thought, Andrea didn’t even notice someone entering the studio, someone whose deep brown eyes were set on her, sending the most curious glances.

“Are you going to stop walking or what?”

British accent always had some impact on Andrea and this time was no exception. The girl’s voice made Andrea’s legs freeze immediately, her head snapped up and her mouth disabled. Ez-mae looked good today with her hair up in a messy bun and her sculptured body accentuated by a boyfriend shirt, black leggings and knee-length boots. Saying that she looked good was actually an understatement. She was breathtaking, which was probably why Andrea was holding her breath. Wait. What?

Slapping herself mentally, Andrea cleared her throat, desperately trying to keep her cool with the most indifferent expression she managed to put on. Lifting her chin up a notch or two, Andrea began to speak.


“Hello. You must be Andrea Moss.”

Ahn-dre-ah. The name replayed itself in Andrea’s mind instantly, making her smile at how different her name sounded on Esmé’s lips. Ahn-drea-ah. How cute! Ahn-drea-ah. UGH stop it!!

Realising how ridiculous she was being, Andrea shook her head, forcing herself out of whatever thoughts coming to her mind. Andrea turned her back to Esmé, consciously avoided beautiful brown eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, she spoke softly: “Yeah. I’m An-dre-a. Let’s start.”

As the practice went on, Andrea became more and more amazed by Esmée’s techniques. Even though she just started with Andrea’s routine, Esmée’s movements were so fluid that for a moment, Andrea actually thought that this English girl had no bones. Either that or she was made of water, or both. What dazzled Andrea the most, though, was the passion the girl with the red streak put into the dance. Andrea would never say it out loud, but there was fire in the girl’s eyes, so fiery that if Andrea had looked into those eyes a second longer, she would’ve been burnt. The good thing was, with the heat from Esmée’s ardor, Andrea’s eagerness to make the dance spectacular was multiplied. As much as Andrea hated to admit it, there was obvious chemistry between the two once they start dancing. On the other hand, this seemingly good thing brought Andrea to a situation whereby she looked like Esmée’s lover. That, surely, was trouble.

Damn it! Andrea swore inwardly as the bell went off, indicating the end of the practice. Even though the practice had gone well, there were a few more movements they needed to master in order to accomplish the first half of the routine. To tell the truth, it wasn’t like there was not enough time for Andrea to finish the remaining part, but it was better to practice more so that the final show would be perfect. Right?

Unfortunately, it seemed like Andrea was the only one who thought so. Esmée, on the other hand, appeared to be in a rush as she immediately proceeded to packing up, without even looking back at Andrea. Biting her lips, Andrea stared at the English girl’s back, trying hard to think of a way to start speaking.

“Look, Ez-mee, I mean Ez-mae.”. Nice. Now you sound like an idiot.

“Yes?”. British people always said “yes”. Not “yeah”, not “what’s up?” but “yes”, thought Andrea.

“Um actually, you’re not supposed to be leaving now. We still have some more steps to learn.”

“Can’t we wait until tomorrow? School’s ended, I’m sure you’ve heard the bell.”, Esmée has now stopped packing, turning back to face Andrea, confusion evident on her face.

“Well yeah, school has ended. But as the person in charge of this project, I need you to stay back for practice. I’m the person who chose you, so if you still want to participate, I think it’s the best for you to cooperate.”, Andrea finally broke the news, not in the way she intended to but in an even better way. How much she had missed being superior!

Andrea had expected a shocked, or even terrified look on Esmée’s face ever since she finished her previous statement. To her dislike, Esmée showed none of this. Instead, the girl just blinked and frowned. And God forbade that her frown was anything but sexy. Ever slowly, her frown slowly turned upside down. Why in the hell was Esmé Russell smiling?

“I see. Let’s get it clear once and for all. I am cooperating with you, and it is not your choice whether I will participate. I got in this project by myself, and both of us know that you can’t kick me out. Now if you excuse me, I’ve to run.”

For the first time in her life, Andrea understood what tongue-tied meant. Not bothering to keep her guard, Andrea opened her eyes wide, gasping. She did not just say that. Conscious of Andrea’s reaction, Esmée looked into the other girl’s eyes, found something very interesting in there and smiled. Andrea’s blue eyes had always been Esmée’s brown ones’ favorite place as they reminded her of the colour of the sea. Before letting herself drown in the ocean and making Andrea the happiest person on Earth, Esmée tore her gaze away, turned on her heels and walked out of the room, leaving a very stunned redhead behind without saying a word.

Andrea slammed the studio’s door shut. Stomping on the floor, she dashed out of the school, fully aware of the rage starting to take over her body. That nasty English brat had humiliated Andrea in the middle of her favorite studio and she could not do anything about it. To make things worse, what the English patient said was also right. Nasty, but right. Andrea had no right to throw Esmée out of the routine. So much for being just, thought Andrea bitterly. If only she had chosen Mandy instead of this girl, even though everyone knew Esmé was the only one that was compatible. Then again, did Andrea choose Esmée solely because she was the best? Of course I did, what was she even thinking about?

Andrea managed to catch the train just before it departed. Damn public transport, she thought, it always made her run and out of breath. So much for a lady’s image. If Esmée Russell saw her on any kind of public transport, she’d probably laugh her eyes out. That British girl had always managed to look flawless, from her hair, her outfit to her facial expression. Everything she did, no matter how unpleasant, was elegant. Royal, even, which was why Andrea felt a sudden hatred towards the girl. Esmée Russell probably thought she was the Queen or something. The British’s problem, probably. With the picture of Esmée wearing a retro long dress with corset inside and a crown on her head painted in her mind, Andrea cracked into a smile. Maybe the idea of Esmée being a Queen wasn’t that bad after all.

“Andie! You looked like a complete mess. What did American transport system do to you?” Kat exclaimed, then sighed dramatically before pulling Andrea into a hug. Andrea rolled her eyes. As cool as Kat always was, she sometimes reminded her of Mandy. Even though Kat had dyed her hair to the darkest shade of brown, deep deep down, she was still a blonde.

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to breathe.” Andrea muttered while rescueing herself from suffocation as she drew back from the hug.

“Aww, of course it was a compliment.” Andrea rolled her eyes again. “How was your day?”

“It was a complete disaster.” Andrea began to speak, ready to spill out all her frustration accumulated in two whole day. However, she decided it was the best not to do it in Kat’s bar, otherwise she’d probably be murdered later by her best friend’s forceful fan club. “You know what? I don’t even want to talk about it.”.

Kat gave her friend the most sympathetic smile as she lightly squeezed Andrea’s shoulder, letting her know she could always turned to her for support. Something abruptly popped up in her mind as she almost jumped. Almost.

“Andie, I want you to meet someone. You’re going to love her.” Kat said excitedly. She couldn’t wait for her best friend to meet this wonderful girl that took her breath away. “Tori! I need you here.” She shouted, her body suddenly chilled.

Andrea was indeed intrigued by her friend’s unusual excitement. Even though Kat had an enormous amount of charm with her, since the two first met, she had never been so enthusiastic talking about a girl. The lady she was going to meet must be really special to make the bartender all psyched.

“Andie, this is my new assistant, Tori.”

Andrea slowly looked up, ready to flash her best smile at Kat’s new “someone”. Her mouth corners had started to twitch up, but stopped halfway when she saw something familiar. Deep brown eyes, black hair with one rebellious red streak, flawless skin, sculptured body, everything was so strangely and painfully familiar.

“Ez-mae” Andrea didn’t know if she called the British girl’s name out loud or if it was only in her head. Her voice was so throaty, so deep that for a moment, she wasn’t even sure if she herself heard it.

“Small world, eh?”

There was only one thing Andrea knew at that moment: Esmée’s voice was husky all the same.

Chapter 3:

ARTSY: How It Is In My Head:

“Breathe, Mandy, breathe!”, sighed Andrea in her last attempt to calm her friend down, “both of us know you’re going to get it anyway.”.

“How do you know?”, blurted Mandy instantly.

Andrea couldn’t help but rolled her eyes. Sometimes she just could not understand why Mandy had to be so dramatic. She was the best dancer in the school – after Andrea, of course – thus if there was someone that would definitely pass the audition, that would be Mandy. Sensing another nervous breakdown coming from her friend, Andrea decided it was time to pull out the big gun.

“You forgot something, Mandy. That I”, Andrea paused theatrically, “am the only judge. And the only choreographer.”

Andrea let out a long sigh, slightly frustrated as the dancer on the stage attempted to do a few spot turns just to end up almost toppled over. Seeing the color rising to the girl’s cheeks, Andrea felt bad for her. Absolutely embarrassing, she thought, not getting why these dancers even bothered to come for the audition when they couldn’t even balance themselves on their feet. It was a very big event of the school that would attract many dancers and choreographers from all over the countries, not just some late afternoon practices.

Andrea had been in Victoire School of the Arts for three years, ever since the day she managed to persuade her guardian to let her pursue her dance career instead of wasting her time dealing with preppy kids in some high school. Now, as a senior in Modern Dance class, Andrea had been more than one of the most brilliant students in the school’s history. She was legendary. When she first stepped in to the audition hall of Victoire, nobody could tell that Andrea, the girl with untamable blue highlights in her hair, would be the choreographer and lead dancer of the school’s biggest performance of the year. Andrea herself was shocked when she found out the inhospitable headmaster, Dr. Wilson, had chosen her to hold the honor. While Andrea knew too well she was the best the school had, she couldn’t stop wondering, since this year performance was to support same sex marriage, if it had anything to do with the fact that she was gay.

Yes, you saw it right. Andrea Moss, the most alluring, talented and unobtainable female being in Victoire School of the Arts, was not interested in men. When the news were spread by Andrea herself, it had crashed every single young man’s heart and, at the same time, won Andrea a brand new apartment (it was small, but it still was an apartment) as her guardian “couldn’t stand to have a lesbian in the house”. At the age of 18, Andrea had a shelter above her head, a not-so-bad income from dancing in a club and many jobs awaiting after her graduation. Parents are way too overrated, she thought.

Andrea glanced at her watch and exhaled deeply. It’d been two hours since the audition started and she couldn’t find a single dancer that quite met the criteria. True, she had always been a perfectionist, but how could you not in dancing? To avoid being bored to death, Andrea entertained herself by recalling Mandy hitting the door when a handsome guy from Painting class walked by. Speaking of Mandy, Andrea wondered why it hadn’t been her turn yet. Not that Andrea looked forward to Mandy being her love interest (in the dance, of course) but the headmaster’s daughter was rather attractive of a young lady and more importantly, quite graceful of a dancer. Other than the tendency to overreact in every single situation, Mandy Wilson also inherited the most delightful dance moves from her father. Thank God she wasn’t bald!

Tracking the tip of her pencil down the page, Andrea’s face was suddenly lit up. Speaking of the devil.

“Next. Mandy Wilson.”

Andrea could tell, even with her eyes closed, that Mandy was wearing those creepy red dance socks that Dr. Wilson bought her two years ago. Mandy claimed these Christmas disasters her good luck charms, so often that Andrea had given up on telling Mandy the truth that they made her look like rotten tomatoes. And she was right. There was Mandy, showing absolute self-conflict with a sexy outfit and a retarded pair socks that didn’t quite match.

“Start when you’re ready!”, shouted Andrea excitedly. She would get to go home soon.

And Mandy did. Andrea found the dance familiar. It was no other than the dance Dr. Wilson choreographed specially for Mandy. As much as Andrea hated to say it, Dr. Wilson was a brilliant dancer and choreographer. Then again, he wouldn’t make it to the top position of this reputed school if it wasn’t for his talent, now would he?

Mandy finished her dance routine by an elegant back spot turn as Andrea let out a sigh of relief. Her friend had done it well, just like she expected. Now that Mandy had done well, Andrea had nothing else to do except for sitting back and relax before coming to Dr. Wilson and tell him that his daughter was her dance partner. There was only one name left before the audition ended. Since Andrea had never seen this person’s name before, she was pretty sure that was a freshman, probably just another kid who dreamed to put her hands on the famous Andrea Moss. Inflated by her own ego, Andrea couldn’t hide her smirk as she called out the name.

“Esmée V. Russell”. Andrea paused suddenly after feeling how strange the name felt on her lips. It didn’t feel quite right in some way she didn’t know.

“It’s Ez-mae, not Ez-mee, if you don’t mind.”

It was then that realization dawned over Andrea. The girl was British, and obviously speaking with her accent. Andrea had never liked the British. They were arrogant and unfriendly and sarcastic and this girl was a living example of that.  To make things worse, this Ez-mae girl was looking straight into her eyes. Usually, Andrea would never back away from someone’s gaze but in this case, there was something in the girl’s deep brown eyes that made her extremely uneasy. After letting Esmée reach deep inside her with her eyes, Andrea finally realized that she was staring into the girl’s eyes and managed to tear her own gaze away. Mentally slapping herself to do some damage control, Andrea spoke up, surprised at how low her voice sounded.

“Are you a new student, Ez-mae?”

“No, I’m a transferred student. From Elizabeth Academy of Contemporary Arts in England, actually. It’s my first day here.”


“What?”, blurted Andrea. Seeing Esmée raising an eyebrow at her, Andrea felt a sudden heat in her cheeks. Realizing that she was blushing, Andrea pretended to be checking her paper as she muttered

“Ready when you are, Miss.”

First day? And she’s here with the audition without any preparation? That girl is crazy. Either that or she’s too sure of herself. Or both. Andrea thought, disgusted. British and their bigger-than-life attitude.

It was when Esmée turned her back to Andrea to prepare her music that Andrea noticed the other girl’s hair. The British girl had dyed black hair with a single highlighted purple streak. Wild child, thought Andrea. From Esmée hair, Andrea let her eyes travel down the other girl’s body. It had been a while since Andrea last saw such a beautiful girl. Andrea had always been an attractive lady herself. With her slim but curvy body and a smile to die for, Andrea had always been almost everyone’s in Victoire target. The girl in front of her now, however, was different. She was wearing a black tank top and knee-length tights that exposed her milky white skin and rather sculptured body form. If Andrea remembered it right, that was the first time she saw a person with milky white skin without thinking that they had albino. In fact, Esmée’s skin was so flawless that Andrea had the urge to reach out and touch her.

Andrea shook herself of the thought right away. There was no way she was going to like Ez-mae. Normally, when Andrea saw a hot girl, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her charm, and she would always end up getting what, or rather who, she wanted. However, she didn’t want Esmée. Reasons? There’re plenty: 1st, she was a British. 2nd, she corrected Andrea’s pronunciation. 3rd, well… she was a British. See? There was no way Andrea Moss was going to like Ez-mae.

The music started playing, effectively kicking Andrea out of her thoughts and put her in place as a judge. Studying Esmée’s movements, Andrea was holding her breath, ready to point out the other girls’ mistakes and laugh at her. No such luck! Andrea had to try so hard to resist the urge to widen her eyes or open her mouth to let out a gasp as Esmée’s movements were nothing but perfection. Those continuous passé turns and barrel jumps actually gave Andrea some tiny troubles occasionally yet Esmé looked so comfortable and professional doing them. That was not to mention her facial expression. Esmé’s face was one of the most emotive that Andrea had ever seen in a dancer, like the dance was all about her. As much as Andrea hated to say it, Esmée was undoubtedly a naturally beautiful dancer. Absolutely impressive!

“Alright, people! The result will be out tomorrow. You all may leave now. Goodbye.”, Andrea announced the end of the audition, an utterly bored expression printed on her face, emphasized by her voice. Throwing a last glance at the crowd leaving the room, Andrea caught Esmée’s eyes. Again, Esmée’s gaze penetrated right through Andrea’s mind, making her feel a sudden sense of vulnerableness. Their eyes were locked until Esmée was finally out of the room and reality snapped back to Andrea.

Turning her back to the door, Andrea sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes strongly as if to force something out of her mind. Covering her face with her palms, Andrea continued to be lost in a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.

Mandy is so going to kill me.

Chapter 2:

SO… this is my first story EVER. A proper one, I mean, the one that’s not in my composition assignments 😐

‘Artsy’ is a story about two dancers’ relationship. Andrea Moss is a legendary student in Victoire School of Arts and Esmée/Tori is a transferred student from England. Their first encounters are awkward and full of hostility, especially from Andrea’s side. Andrea and Esmée eventually find out about their mutual acquaintance: Kat, the ‘indie’ bartender of the most popular bar in town and also Andrea’s best friend. Andrea hates Esmée more as time goes by, for reasons she knows but will never say. Kat’s exciting life is disrupted as the seemingly high and mighty supermodel Chantelle Jacqueline steps into her bar.

Wow. I just realised that I sucked at summary. Anyway, you get the idea. Hope you’ll stick with this. I’m trying to make my writing shorter and more coherent, but it seems I’ve a lot to learn.