Post by orinocoflow on Jan 3, 2011 18:41:43 GMT -5
ok, so tell me what you think!
An echo rang through the large auditorium as the door clicked shut behind him with a dull thud. Looking around the space, Paul walked down the carpeted floor until he came to the dance floor, its wooden surface slick and gleaming under the overhead lights.
“Hello, can I help you?” asked a voice from across the floor. Glancing up, Paul saw a dark-haired man in a soft leather jacket walking towards him.
“I was looking for the auditions for ‘Celebrity Jigs and reels,’” explained the tenor, moving up to meet the man in a firm handshake.
He smiled easily, giving Paul a careful look up and down. “Well, then you’ve come to the right place. This is the dance floor, but the auditions are being held back there in the office. Come on, I’ll show you how to get there.”
In the office, Paul was surprised by how many trophies adorned the walls; they were from both dance and singing competitions, but the greatest astonishment came when he turned to the desk up in front of the window and saw who was behind it.
“Jean Butler?”
“Yes, that’s right. Are you Paul Byrom?” she asked, looking down at the notepad open in front of her.
“Yes, I am.”
The next ten or fifteen minutes were spent deciding whether or not he was able to meet the requirements, and then he was out on the dance floor again, confirmation in hand, thinking about what in the world he had just signed up for.
“You’ll meet your partner tomorrow,” said the dark-haired man, who was called Richard. “For now, all I can recommend is this: get some sleep, and have the last normal night for the next six weeks, because starting tomorrow, your legs will be complaining none-stop.” And with a clap on his shoulder, Paul found himself standing on the sidewalk, wondering once again if this was worth it.’
Well, at least I can finally learn how to dance, he thought with a grin.
* * *
continue or no?
An echo rang through the large auditorium as the door clicked shut behind him with a dull thud. Looking around the space, Paul walked down the carpeted floor until he came to the dance floor, its wooden surface slick and gleaming under the overhead lights.
“Hello, can I help you?” asked a voice from across the floor. Glancing up, Paul saw a dark-haired man in a soft leather jacket walking towards him.
“I was looking for the auditions for ‘Celebrity Jigs and reels,’” explained the tenor, moving up to meet the man in a firm handshake.
He smiled easily, giving Paul a careful look up and down. “Well, then you’ve come to the right place. This is the dance floor, but the auditions are being held back there in the office. Come on, I’ll show you how to get there.”
In the office, Paul was surprised by how many trophies adorned the walls; they were from both dance and singing competitions, but the greatest astonishment came when he turned to the desk up in front of the window and saw who was behind it.
“Jean Butler?”
“Yes, that’s right. Are you Paul Byrom?” she asked, looking down at the notepad open in front of her.
“Yes, I am.”
The next ten or fifteen minutes were spent deciding whether or not he was able to meet the requirements, and then he was out on the dance floor again, confirmation in hand, thinking about what in the world he had just signed up for.
“You’ll meet your partner tomorrow,” said the dark-haired man, who was called Richard. “For now, all I can recommend is this: get some sleep, and have the last normal night for the next six weeks, because starting tomorrow, your legs will be complaining none-stop.” And with a clap on his shoulder, Paul found himself standing on the sidewalk, wondering once again if this was worth it.’
Well, at least I can finally learn how to dance, he thought with a grin.
* * *
continue or no?