The week flown by quicker than I had expected, but that's always the way when your anxious, scared or nervous about a particular moment in time, it seems to approach faster than it normally would.
The night after the music awards, when Renee and Harper awoke from there coma's, we planned our week ahead full of all the things we wanted to do.
On Monday, we planned to take a picnic to Times Square and spend the day there.
Tuesday, go to Central Park, rent out bikes and make our way around, looking for the Alice In Wonderland statue and the Belvedere castle.
Wednesday we planned to go catch a game at the Yankee stadium,
Thursday we wanted hail a yellow taxi, not that we needed to, we had a driver but we wanted the full experience. In the taxi we planned to head to Brooklyn bridge, have a ride on the state ferry and get the full feel of New York by doing all the little touristy things.
We planned to finish the week with a bang by going to see the Statue Of Liberty, or Libby as Renee would call it.
And that's exactly what we did. We cycled, hailed cabs, stood directly in the middle of Brooklyn bridge, went strawberry picking in Central Park, ran up the stairs of Libby, and when I say we, I mean me.. Harper and Renee got half way, got the ump because the amount of stairs then took the elevator for the rest of the way up.
It was a truly amazing week, one I'll remember forever. I mean, not many eighteen year olds can say the explored New York with their best friends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The week soon ended meaning one thing.. college. It was eight o'clock Monday morning, a week after we started out with our tourist extravaganza.
I stood in front of the floor length mirror, staring blankly at my reflection whilst Renee and Harper counted sheep from the land of nod, in other words, they was still fast asleep.. Lucky them.
I spent the whole of yesterday fussing about what to wear. At one point I even googled what to wear for a meeting on your first day at an academy but that was no help.
After nine hours of frantically pulling my hair out, literally, I decided on skinny jeans and a burgundy jumper and converse. It was acceptable for 6th form at home so I guess college was kind of on the same page.
I was waiting by the door when the reception called, breaking the silence and making me jump.
"Miss Lewis, your cars outside."
"Thank you, I'll be right down."
Hanging up the phone, I scribbled a note to Renee and Harper telling them I'll be back in a few hours and then left.
"Morning Andy. Nice to see you. Today's the big day!" I said to my driver.
He was a lovely man, in his late fifty's with a balding head. I've grown really fond of him when he drove us around for the previous week.
"Right away Miss Lewis," he smiled in the review mirror and starting the car, the light pur of the engine vibrating through the car, "How you feeling? Nervous?"
"I think that's an understatement, I feel like someone's just let of a circus in my stomach!" I chuckled. We chattered casually like this for the thirty minute journey to the college.
When we arrived, Andy wished me good luck as I slid out of the car. I thanked him and waved goodbye as I watched him drive off, the gravel flying up into the air as the tires rolled over the ground, creating a cloud of smoke.
I turned around when then car was out of sight and walked over to the double doors. The building was huge, at least four times the size of my school back at home, I gulped. I looked at the building, almost certain that I was going to get lost on a regular basis.
I pushed through the double doors and found my self in room with a sign that read 'Reception'. The space was pretty bare apart from the walls, they were covered in brightly coloured posters and photographs. I was so nervous, the palms of my hands were clammy and my breathing came short and fast.
A short plump lady with grey hair sat behind a large desk, tapping away on her computer. I walked over to her and cleared my throat, causing her to jump a little and look up.
"Hi, I'm Rhi, erm Rhiannon Lewis. I have a meeting with Mrs George at eight forty five. Could you possible let her no I'm here or, erm.. tell me where I'm suppose to go." I stuttered. Pull yourself together you complete mess.
"Mrs George will be with you shortly, but in the meantime, take a seat on those chairs over there. And try not to be so nervous, she's a lovely lady, I promise." She smiled sweetly.
"Thank you" I said returning the smile, feeling a tiny bit better. I turned around and made my way over to the chairs she pointed to, flopping down.
After thirty minutes of waiting and just as I was considering making a run for it and putting my sorry arse on a plane back to London, the doors opposite me swung open and revealed a tall lady mixed race, with crazy curly brown Afro hair which was pulled into a short ponytail. She was dressed formally and heading in my direction with a grin so I guessed this was Mrs George.
"You must be Rhiannon. I'm Mrs George. I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've heard and seen many amazing things from you." She said in a New York influenced accent that I'd heard a lot of lately.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs George. I've been looking forward to this day since I found out about it last week." I lied. I wouldn't say I wasn't excited, but my nerves took over.
"Ahh I'm glad. Lets take this into my office. I'm sure you have questions and things you want to say, just as I have." She said as she span on her heels and started speed walking through a set of double doors and into a long corridor.
After around two minutes of us walking, we reached the end off the hall and came to a large brown oak door with a gold plaque and bold black lettering reading 'Mrs George, Principle.'
Opening the door and hurriedly rushing in, Mrs George took of her suit blazer and hung it on the back of a large black leather swivel chair that sat behind a dark oak desk that matched her office door.
The first thing I noticed was that Mrs George was untidy, very untidy for a principle. Her rubbish bin next to her desk was overflowing with scrunched up pieces of paper, her desk was cluttered with books, folders and empty cups of coffee, and her Apple Mac computer was completely covered with post it notes that had scribbled writing all over them.
Behind the desk was a huge book shelf that held hundreds of books that had been rammed onto the shelves. To say the book shelf was lacking space would clearly be an understatement.
I don't no why, but her untidiness made me relax a fraction. Maybe because it showed she was human after all and not a crazy monster that was going to tear my head right off my shoulders.
Mrs George was the first one to speak as she was picking up piles of folders from the chair in front of the desk.
"Miss Lewis, take a seat. Sorry it's a little messy in here. The winter term is quickly approaching and the preparations are always hectic." She said as she slipped into the seat behind the desk and straightened a photo frame.
"Now, on behalf of myself and the New Yorks Musical Theatre and Performing Arts academy, welcome! I take it you have a ton of questions about what your doing here and things like that, and I will answer them in good time. But first of all I want to start of with a story."
She looked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable, the way I'd imagine a blind man would look at the sunset for the first time. It was a look of hope, a look of promise, and I'm not sure whether the promise was coming from her or me.
"It was a few weeks back now. I was seated at this very desk after school had finished for the day. I had a stack of applications to my right, a coffee to my left and around twenty thousand audition tapes to look through. And to be completely honest, I was bored. Bored of the same people singing the same songs and dancing the same routines.
I was looking for someone who excited me, someone who screamed potential. Someone who made the hairs on my arms stand up. And no one had achieved that yet.
When just as I was loosing all hope, I had an email come through with an attachment from Phil, you know where this story is going right?" She looked at me expectingly.
"The video of me singing at the bar? Yeah he told me about that." I said, thinking back to the conversation we had it my kitchen a while back. It felt like a whole life time ago.
"So I clicked the link and watched it, and I felt excited. I saw your potential instantly, I knew we had to have you. So I told Phil to do what ever it takes to get you over here, because your special. You wanna know how I knew? Because ever single hair was standing up on end and my arms were covered in goosebumps. And I really do hope you choose to stay and study here, the only reason your audition is because everyone else has too. I know already that I want you here."
"Wow, this is really, just.." I trailed off, "Overwhelming, but in a good way! I just wanna thank you. You've done so much already, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity to even be here." I said truthfully, meaning every word.
"We should be thanking you. You would be an asset to the college. And if you do decide to stay here, which I highly recommend, you would develop into the star that you are and will be rocketed into the life that you deserve."
I swallowed. Did I want this? Could I do this?What am I saying, of course you want this, the eleven year old me was screaming in my head to just accept the offer there and then. And could I do this? Phhft, did I even have to ask? I practically walked out the womb singing musical theatre tunes.
Miss George broke my chain of thoughts and continued, "Now tell me a bit about yourself. What are you dreams?"
"We'll I studied accounts and finance at my previous college, and it never really made me happy. But it made my dad happy, he wanted me to work with him when I finished so I did it. Before that I trained for 8 years in the musical theatre, and stopped when I was 11.
My dreams are tricky, obviously I wanted to do musical theatre and star in London's westend shows. But that changed when I turned 11. Up until now I thought never wanted to go into musical theatre again, I never really knew what I wanted from life, but this trip has shaken things up for me."
"Ahh I see" Mrs George said as she was in a deep train on thoughts herself, "What made you quit? Why did you give it up?"
This question caught me of guard. I didn't like talking about it, I didn't want people's sympathy, but the look in her eye told me she was curious, and not looking for something to hold over me.
So I started from the beginning and told her the story of that tragic night my mum left along with my dreams.
When I was finished, it felt like a weight had been lifted of my chest.
"Rhiannon, I'm telling you this as someone who gave up on their dreams and has regretted it every day since, not as your principle.
You can not let the past define who you are. Yes, it will always be a part of you, but learn from it, grow from it but never let it effect the present or the future. You only get one life, and once that's over, that it's. No going back.
Your talented, clearly. Your special, born with a talent and passion. Most people let it go and waste it, doing nothing and settling for an average life. Don't be one of those people.
You deserve to give this a try, you owe it to yourself. It was awful what happened, and my heart goes out to you. But this is now, and there is no time like the present."
I thought about what she was saying. I'd never had someone who had sat down and spoke to me about the things that I want.
My dad hadn't, he'd planned my life himself without asking what I wanted. He let me give up because it was the easiest and safest option.
And my friends never really got it, they never really understood.
And I don't blame them at all. My dad was just trying to do what he thought would be best for me, the path that would secure me with a stable career. He was left on his own to raise an eleven year old by himself.
My friends had there own life's and careers to worry about, they was fussing about what there wanted from life, which was understandable. So I never to talked to them about it all.
But hearing this for the first time felt like a light bulb had been switched on. She was so right!
I didn't work my arse of for nothing. I didn't miss my friends birthdays and sleepovers for nothing. I did it for this, this moment right here. I did it to sit in an office and talk to a lady that was selling me my dreams.
I smiled at Mrs George, and she knowingly returned my smile with an even bigger one. She was well on her way to winning me over in New York, just like she planned.