I'm still trying to develop the story line so adding bits may take a while. I'll
appreciate any criticism and advice
Too Many Changes
I Won't Go!
Cheering is a brilliant thing that only briliant singers get to hear after finishing a
performance and I always hear that so I must be brilliant, Rosalie thought gleefully
to herself. She gave a quick bow and a wave before strutting off the stage. "Wasn't I
just brilliant Daddy", she boasted. Her father, Jonathan Tennant glanced at her and
nodded quickly before getting back to the argument with his ex-wife, "Nadia, please be
quiet. Yes she is till on her diet and yes she is performing well..." He groaned
inwardly and snapped his flashy mobile shut. "Your mother is an absolute pain, nothing
like Natalia..." He trailed off as Natalia placed her hands over his eyes, playing guess
who before Jonathan grabbed her and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Rosalie turned
away from this embarrassing display and went to her dressing room, muttering quietly about
needing therapy for the rest of her life but not quietly enough, "Thanks for reminding
me, your going to see your therapist tomorrow." Her dad shouted after her. The red door
of her dressing room had a gold star with her name engraved on it, she pushed it open and
flounced inside, bored of the fancy name plate. She sat down at her pretty purple make-up
table and looked past the many roses from adoring fans and in the mirror. Her straight
black hair had light blonde highlights, placed to perfection, it was curled at the bottom
and looked stunning. Rosalie smiled to herself and straightened it to it's natural form.
Next she focused on her eyes, her worst features. They were beautifully shaped,
surrounded by thick eyelashes, they were light blue until she took out her contact lenses.
She had perfect sight but her right eye was brown while the left was green, she frowned
and put her contact lenses back in. Her heart shaped face was covered in make-up, even
though it was glamorous without it. Rosalie wiped off all her make-up and changed out of
her elegant midnight blue dress and into her fancy baby pink night gown. Lucky Rosalie
had a heart shaped bed in her dressing room and she lied down, exhausted from a hard days
work, and swiftly fell to sleep, her dream was highly amusing. She dreamt of life being
normal, being poor and not at all like hers, a dream she always wanted to come true no
matter how self obsorbed she seemed, she only wished to be a nobody.
Rosalie stretched as she rose from her bed, she looked around and saw she was at home,
Daddy must have carried me home, she thought, amused. Rosalie admired her father. He had
golden brown hair, spiked up but more fluffy. His eyes, pale blue like rain very unlike
poor Rosalie's eyes. Jonathan was very athletic and you could tell by his muscles and
stamina and strangely, he was incredibly smart, once again a bit opposite to Rosalie. She
was dyslexic, she can't read well and is forever mixing up letters, every book she owned
had been burned when her frustration had nearly caused her to burn down the local library.
As for Rosalie's mother, she was an emotional wreck. Even she can't remember how many
phobias she has. Once again she looked nothing like Rosalie, petite with mad red curls of
hair, dark green emerald eyes and a toothy smile. "Rosy! Out of bed, Now! Your
choreographer is waiting for you and your dance routine isn't suddenly going to learn
itself for you, is it." Rosalie sighed, this was one of the things she hated about her
showbiz lifestyle. She rolled over and stared at her gold-plated digital clock. 5 a.m on
a Sunday, yet another problem. Her father walks in the room and pours a glass of water
over her face, obviously in a bad mood,
"Wake up, Rosalie! You have Dance School!" Rosalie groans and grabs the towel from her
"I won't go! I simply won't!"
Rosalie sits in the back of her limo, grumbling to herself. Her long blonde hair tied into
a neat ponytail and her silk gown swapped for a soft blue leotard and tights. She recalls
that mornings arguement, "Really, daddy. I'm much to old for a leotard and tights. I'm a
singer, not a balerina!" Rosalie glares out the window, happy no one can see her through
the dark glass. Beside her white stretch limo was a black hummer limo. She knew instantly
who it belonged to and sighed inwardly, James, at my dance school, what a relief, someone
very hot! She relaxes greatly and her driver, Damion glances at her in the mirror, "Don't
tell me your falling for that young rascal, master James" He's smiling and teasing. He was
only 20 and took great pride in escorting the young superstar. Rosalie blushes and grins
sheepishly. Dsmion laughs and then turns his attention back to the road, he turns the
radio on and, surprisingly, one of Rosalie's number one song's fly through the speakers.
She smiles and sings along, "I knew you were the one, when I left you there. I knew this
was my time when I ran my finger's through your hair. And Now I'm here, now I can see your
face...now I can say, "You are my saving grace"" Damion smiles and sings along to,
Rosalie thinks happily to herself, Not a bad singer, in fact, a very good singer! But
then, vanity takes over her mind for a second, Not as good as me, of course. She shakes
her head, her black curls , specially done this morning, bouncing. She can't help but feel
disgusted with herself.
She slides out the limo and shuffles along the gravel in her black ballet shoes, short
white skirt, leggings and red halter top. She had decided to change in the back of the
limo to save herself the embarrassment of walking into the studio in the disgracefully
horrible outfit she had previously worn. She walked gracefully into the studio where the 5
others were already stretching. She took her place next to James and started to copy his
stretching. She had always been pround of her strength and flexibility and this allowed
her to complete complicated and amazing moves which wowed the crowds. James smiles at her
and compliments her, "You were amazing on stage last night, father took my friend and I to
see you. And I must say, you look stunning" Damien who was sitting in the corner heard
this comment, he snorted in amusement and this told Rosalie he was going to go on about
all the posh fancy boy fans, screaming her name with the utmost politeness. She smiles,
"Your not that bad at performing yourself." James had been her rival in the talent singing
contest a couple years back. He had to settle for second while she came first place,
though he had been very kind about it, congratulating her and asking for her autograph.
Rose sighs happily at the memory.