Mindless Dancing (One Direction - Niall)

Chapter 14- Reheasals and Nando's

I gaped, my eyes widening as big as tennis balls. 

"WHAT?" I demanded as I reread the piece of paper pinned on the notice board. 

"No. No no no!" I exclaimed. Danielle rushed up to me. 

"What's the matter?" She asked, her spotty dancing bag hanging from her arm. I pointed at the pin board.  

"Aah..." Danielle said. "Now why would they do that?"  

"I don't know!" I exclaimed, waving my arms up in the air. "Dani! I'm fucking screwed!"  

"Now, come on-"  

"Screwed!" I shouted. "How am I meant to know the dance off by heart by next week? Why would they move the date forwards? I don't believe this!"  

Danielle looked at me, biting her lip in thought.  

"I'm sure you can learn the routine in a week. I'll help you," she offered. I glared at her before sinking into the wall and moaning. 

"Why... Why didn't I listen to that dance instructor. Oh Dani, I messed everything up, I've been spending so much time having fun with Niall, I've hardly practiced. The performance was suppose to be in two weeks, and now we've only got one." I ranted and Danielle observed me sympathetically.  

"Come on," she sighed. "Rehearsals starts in two minutes."  

Exhaling, I stood up and followed Danielle into the studio sulkily.

*** 

"Now, as you may have already seen," the male dance instructor informed us as we warmed up, stretching our legs, "The date of the performance has been moved a week in advance, as we've had some scheduling difficulties with the television firm. This means that we have one week less to practice the routine, resulting that we have to work and practice diligently at our utmost best. In positions," he exclaimed and we obeyed his orders. I sighed and positioned myself in the back row, praying that he wouldn't take notice of my mediocre dancing capabilities. How humiliating. I was meant to be a professional dancer! 

"You," he then said, pointing straight at me. My eyes bulged out of my sockets. 

"Me?" I stuttered.  

"Yes, you. Cute one with the brown hair. Front row to the left, please. I can't see you back there." 

My face flushed bright red as I reluctantly trotted to the front. Oh well fuck me.

*** 

"Paige; I need to have a word with you," the auburn haired dance instructor (who I'd learnt was called Dave) said. 

I cried on the inside. What a déjà vu. 

The class gradually emptied and Danielle stood by the door, waiting for me. Dave smiled, crossing his arms. Well, at least he wasn't as scary as the last teacher.  

"Paige," he repeated. "You did well today," he said and I nearly chocked on my spit.  

"What?!" I exclaimed a tad too loudly. 

"Now why does this seem like such a surprise? I really do think you have a natural talent in hip hop, a naturally born talent which is very rare to come by... I just... I believe that you can do better. I've seen you dance before and i don't think you're working hard enough." Dave's sweetness faded. "You need to start rehearsing in your own time," he stated. I was about to interrupt to come up with a lame ass excuse before he shut me up and lifted a finger. 

"Paige, I used to be exactly like you. Life, friends, boyfriends, parties, drinking... Being young and free. It's all wonderful isn't it? Well you seem to have chosen this career path and that results in having to sacrifice some of these things. I need you to be more focused and mature." He concluded. I nodded stiffly.