New York, New Ariana (Ariana Grande, Nathan Sykes, & Jai Brooks)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ariana’s POV

It was a strange feeling leaving the only home you’d ever known for a place you’ve never been with people you’ve never met. I was, of course, terrified, sad about leaving my friends, and mostly nervous about what New York would be like. It wasn’t entirely bad though, moving where no one knew the old you. In Boca, I was quite the opposite of the popular glamour queen. My group of friends and I-- who I loved dearly-- were what would be the school “dorks” in a stereotypical movie. The only ones who didn’t play football for the guys, or cheerleading for the girls. I’d always loved acting and singing; and cheerleading wasn’t my crowd. The half season I’d done it was miserable to say the least.

But New York would be different, I could feel it. It was a performing arts school; one that people came from all over the world to go to at that. No one there would see me and automatically label me with the weirdos. I’d gotten an ombre dye on my hair and gone on a shopping spree with my mom; it was time for a more glamourous look. New city, new school, new Ariana.

The taxi dropped me, my older brother Frankie, and my mom off in front of the apartment building I should now call home. It was fairly tall; maybe about 15 stories. One or two cars were parked in the small lot next to it. It was an old building that reminded me of the hotel in Holiday Inn, one of my favorite old timey movies. Pulling my suitcase behind me, I was the first to start up the building’s stairs. I stopped when my mom called to me by the door and undid the buttons of my cream colored peacoat. I had apparently overestimated how cold New York was in September.

Frankie dragging my mom’s and his own bags behind him, they made their way up to meet me. My mom smiled genuinely at my excited gaze, taking in as much of the street as possible. She knew I hadn’t liked Boca much, but Frankie had loved the warm weather and the school. He’d locked himself in his room when she told us we were moving.

The building’s interior looked even more like an old timey movie than the outside. There were chandeliers with glittering lights, reflective flooring, gold rimming on the elevators, and a grand staircase made of marble. For me, it was a welcome change to the low-lying, spanish-style buildings that had been everywhere in Florida. After Mom got the key from the man at the front desk, we made our way toward the elevators.

“Do you like it?” Mom asked as the elevator began to rise higher and higher: closer and closer to our new apartment.

“It’s so pretty!” I gushed, running my hand along the decorative wood paneling in the elevator. “It looks like Holiday Inn!”

“I don’t know yet,” Frankie mumbled looking down at his phone. I looked at the screen through the elevators mirror and saw him staring at an Instagram page; a picture of him and his dance team friends.

“Well this is our floor,” Mom sighed starting out into the hallway. “Floor 7, both of you start remembering that.”

“Okay,” I chimed stepping out into the hallway. It was duller than the lobby, but still had the old hollywood glam I was fawning over. Seeming to be guessing a direction, Mom turned left looking at the numbers on each door. She repeated ‘7M, 7M, 7M,’ in a low voice. I followed behind taking in every detail of our new floor.

Shouts and heavy laughter filled the hallway. “See, there are kids here,” Mom gave Frankie and I a thumbs up. A group of three boys came barreling down the hallway-- seeming to be the culprits of the noise. One of them was taller and looked older than the other two, balancing a soccer ball on top of his head with a snapback dangling off his wrist. The second one had darker hair and a lip piercing, trying to swat the ball of the other’s head. Last came a boy who looked almost identical to the second, except with less curl to his hair. He had a beanie with a little pom-pom on top of his head covering most of his hair and headphones around his neck; seeming to be timing how long the boy could balance the ball on his head with his phone. His big brown eyes were super cute, not that I usually fawned over boys.