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Ahhhh.... the endless ideas.Category: (general)
Thursday, 30 April 2009
01:45:59 AM (GMT)
So Oh no. Guess what. Lauren Got another idea! Haha..... So why don't you just read
this one, please? I want CRITISISM! Not on errors, cause this is on my crappy
keyboard on the new laptop...... So here's alil background info, I started reading
this book (if I stay) and it talks a lot about music and the mc started talking about
her music camp. And I got inspired by an add that's been on my mind the entire time.
It was for Hollywood acting, Pop Acadamy, and the IDA (Some professional dance
acadamy) So yea. And enjoy.

Walking down the hallways of the acadamy seemed right. Against the sound of the
symphony in session to my right lured me away as the violon solo started off. I
slowly sidled inside the room. I held the door aloft, afraid that it would disturb
the practice session. I looked at the violonist. She was at mid-height, with light
brown hair that graced just beyond her shoulders. Her eyes were closed tightly and
her mouth was pulled tight, yet I could sense that she was smiling inwardly. Her
hands moved so swiftly I felt mesmorized, my eyes closed and the music transported
me, until I hand grasped my shoulder. I opened my eyes and a tall lanky boy who's
arms seemed to long for his body was holding his finger to his lips. I nodded and the
two of us left. His mouth opened up and I saw rows and rows of braces, it made me
grimace in pain at how much metal was held behind his lips. He held out a hand, which
I also noticed as being slightly big for a teenage boy. 
 "Shoot" He said extending his hand.
  "Excuse me?" I said confused. 
 The boy laughed and repeated, "Shoot." Before I could reply he just simply said,
"Shoot. Or as Toni calls me, Shotzy. I'm Shooter." My skeptical look made him laugh
even more. "It's actually my name... Shooter Jonson. I'd explain but i actually don't
know. Uhhh.... my parents left me after I was born, after giving me this cracked up
name anyways." Shooter actually seemed proud of it, but it still made me feel bad for
him. Not only was he givin the name Shooter, his parents left him.
  I shook his hand and said, "Jetta."
  "Jetta. I like it." 
That was the first student I ever met, Shooter Jonson. And if I thought he had made
an impression, hell, I'll be.

I went to my room and began to cough by the overpowering scent of spring flowers. I
went to sleep and woke up late the next morning. Of course, it was summer who wanted
to get up early? I hadn't met my roomate, Antoinette. So when I showered and got
ready expecting to find a trace of her, I was dissapointed because the cardboard wall
seperating the room in two was up. I left quietly and just kept walking until I
reached the counsiler. She was an older woman with streaks of gray and a motherly
    "mornin sweety. What can I do for you?"
    "Todays my first day, Ma'am."
    "Call me Ma, everyone does. Alrightly then, I'll set up a nice an easy rehearsal
schedule. Dancer, right? I can tell by the build, and that pretty smile a yours. So
the studio will be yours at.... OOh..... tight squeeze.... How bout 10:30 at night
and 5:45 in a mornin. It's early, but I gave you the closest one in the mornin and
the other one is half hour walk away." I just nodded and smiled as convincingly as
possible. Of course, waking up at 4 would not be fun. I needed a little bit of get up
time before I did any of this. And by 9:30 I would have to be on my way walking. Not
much fun at all, considering that the first class I had was at 8:00 and then one hour
for lunch at noon, then classes, then I'd have to get out by 8:00, have a nice dinner
and find someone else heading to the north wing of the acadamy. I had missed the
breakfast, but I could sneak in for some leftover toast and pancakes.
   I found the cafeteria to be full of students and then I saw Shooter, sitting with
a large group of kids. Of course, from the Shooter I met, I would've never guessed it
to be him. He was in a gangster suit and had a fedora hat leaaning carelessly against
his head. The girl next to him was wearing pin-stripe pants, a button down white
shirt that was unbottoned four down, showing more cleavage then the cheerleaders at
my school, and then two undone at the bottom, coming to a grand total of two bottons.
Of course I was surprised by the pipes and old fashioned ciggarettes they had. As I
neared the group I learned this was the extremist theatre group and that the girl was
actually wearing a tank top... how i missded it i don't know.
   i walked away with my head down when all of then looked at me like i should
die.Then it was my turn to practice. I stumbled around, and as soon as I found an
open hall, I ran in and placed my stuff down, placing the cd in the player. I moved
to the rythem, I flew to the light switch with such speed and agility it often
surprised my family. So the sound moved my body, Da da da da, Da da da da, Dum da da.
Until the lights turned on and three furious blonde girls glared at me, each with
their arms crossed, tapping their foot. They walked forward till they were an inch
from my face.
  "Girls, I think someones in my practice room."
  "I'd agree."
  "Times three."
   "What shoule we do?"
  "Oh, how about kick her out. Litterally."
  "Waste the small talk. Just get rid of her. She doesn't belong in our practice
hall. She doesn't belong in OUR school."

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