*****WARNING***** SEXUAL CONTENT *****WARNING*****
Your first week at the Kroskey School of the Arts in London was almost over. You were stretching out for your last class, Ballet with Madame Tulay. She danced in the top ballet company in London for fifteen years before becoming a full time instructor. You couldn't believe you were learning from such an accomplished women, not to mention a legend in the ballet circuit. You were giddy with excitement.
"Well look who the cat dragged in." you heard behind you. You turned and squealed in excitement, jumping up into Jason's arms. He did so well with you in the showcase that he got into the same program as you. You were so thankful to have a friend there. Most of the other students were pretty competitive. It was a real cutthroat place, but you weren't at all intimidated.
"Jason! I'm so happy we have at least one class together!" you clapped, doing your traditional hip bump high five jazz hands handshake. It was super dorky but hey, that was you and Jason.
"I'm happy that I have at least one class with him." He whispered, eyeing a tasty looking morsel stretching out at the ballet bars. The mystery guy caught him and gave him a wink.
"Well I'm sure he will be at the party tonight. Maybe you guys can get better acquainted?" you said lasciviously.
"Oh I plan to." You laughed but before you could continue Madame Tulay entered to begin class. As time passed, it became clear that Madame Tulay was a no nonsense type of instructor. After scolding Jason for a second time for talking, he stuck his tongue out and did cross eyes toward you when her back was turned. You held back your laughter, wanting desperately to not make a bad impression on someone with as much influence as Madame Tulay.
"You better cool it. She could probably be the key to your first steady gig!" you said when class was dismissed.
"You're right. I'll play nice with her from now on. C'mon, we have to get to Mia's before everyone starts drinking without us!"
The two of you pulled your coats tight to compensate for your skimpy dance wear in the cold London air. Mia was in one of the workshops you attended during orientation, and you became fast friends. She wasn't a dancer, she was a sculptor. But she was cool, and already knew a ton of people in the city. When she invited you over to meet some people at a get together she was having that night, you jumped at the chance. Networking, which so happened to be the subject of the workshop where you and Mia met, was key.
When you reached her building, the front door was propped open with a brick. You let yourselves in, climbing the narrow staircase up to her flat. As you got closer, the noise of the party got louder. You heard several shouts over some blaring music and the clanking of beer bottles. When you got to the door, your eyes widened in amazement. The living room was cleared, the couches moved against the wall. Everything, including the floor, was covered in tarps. Paint cans were open next to the three large canvases leaning against the wall. Paint was already splattered everywhere, especially on the guests.
"Oi! You came!" Mia yelled from behind the crowded kitchen counter. She and the group she was sitting in did the shot they were all set up for, then she stumbled over to you.
"Mia! Your apartment is..." you trailed off, eyeing the chaos that surrounded her.
"A work of art!" Jason finished, nudging your shoulder.
"Yes, I agree, thank you. Well, we have the snooty bitches over there with their wine and cheese..." she pointed out some girls hanging out by a very cluttered and overstuffed bookcase. One of them, a blonde girl with black and pink streaks in her hair, flipped her off and giggled. You raised an eyebrow. "That's Jess. We've been... talking. Anyway, over in the kitchen are the alcoholics, and the free spirits congregate in the center and create artistic magic. Choose wisely where you settle, darling."
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