Status: Possibly back!!!
The Ugly Duckling
Act I, Scene I
The wind nipped at my exposed skin, truly the cold of the winter had settled deep within the city taking a deep hold. I quickened my pace down the side walk. The city that never sleeps seemed so dead at six in the morning. A few cabs drove past but the wide streets were mostly empty, begging for the too focused business men to fill them up. The city was sad at six in the morning, sad and empty. The city was ugly.
I walked up to the street entrance to the studio and pulled on the door handles. As I should have expected they were locked. With my mother off picking up some other girl to take her to an audition and Lila still on a train in from the Island the studio would stay locked for quite some time. I shifted my bag on my shoulder and walked away from the door. A little ways down the street was an independent coffee shop, one whose sign was not a part of a copyright franchise and whose walls were filled with books and flyers for underground bands.
The sign said closed and I filled with frustration. I could see a man move around inside through the glass door, he unstacked chairs and wiped off tables. I knocked on the door and broke him from his trance. He angrily pointed at the sign on the door so I knocked again. He finally opened the door a crack to tell me in plain english that the store doesn't open until seven. He slammed the door then turned back to what he was doing. I knocked again a little harder and he stomped over again opening the door.
"What do you want? I already told you we're closed."
"It's frighteningly cold and no one has come to unlock my office yet." Not the whole truth but what did this stranger need to know about my life. I tried my hand at a sad puppy dog face.
"You don't look like you belong in an office." This was true. My too big coat could not conceal my well worn boots and jeans, neither of which screamed professionalism.
"Maybe I'm the housekeeper."
"Are you?" His words dripped with knowing, my lie had been paper thin.
"Please let me in." I moved towards the door with as much fluidity as I could muster.
"Fine whatever, just don't touch anything." I flashed a quick smiled and rushed inside, shutting the door behind me.
"I promise I won't be long." I quickly sat in one of the chairs he had just put down and pulled off my boots before he had time to protest. I grabbed my toes and started pushing them forwards and then pulling them back. Warming them between my fingers as I did so. I hummed as I pointed and flexed my feet. Breathing in as I flexed and pushing myself towards a perfect point as I exhaled.
"What are you doing?" The man sounded exasperated.
"Stretching. What are you doing?" I tried to sound coy and nonchalant.
"You're going to need to put your shoes back on." I rolled my eyes and slipped my feet back into my shoes. My toes felt warmer but I would've liked to continue. I would have also liked to have gone to the audition. It was not the first time my mother had chosen another girl over me, and it surely would not be the last. I pulled my hair from it's disheveled pony tail and began pulling it tightly up to the crown of my head and wrapping it into a neat bun. I fished a few renegade pins from my bag and tucked all the loose hairs away. My mother taught me when I was six how to do my own hair, how to pull it so tight I felt as if I was getting a face lift. I had known for a while she detested wasting her precious time in the morning pinning up my hair and as I grew and let my hair grow long I hated how much time it cost me. But much like dancing the preparation for the day took routine and dedication.
I looked up towards the street just in time to see a delicate girl in a large red coat walk past, her chin buried deep in a thick scarf, her blonde hair swept up into a flawless bun. I lept from my chair and threw open the front door, "Rose! Come join me!" The girl turned and with a flash of confusion walked towards me.
"Ana, what's going on?" I pulled her into the warm coffee shop and shut the door behind her. "You have surely gone mad. What would your mother say if she knew you weren't in the studio right now?" Her soft accent hung on each of her words. Rose was classically beautiful. Soft blonde hair, inviting blue almond shaped eyes that were set on her youthful face perfectly. A set of small perfectly shaped pink lips that were constantly smiling. A long neck that only seemed to emphasize her height. Long legs, perfect feet and small hips. She was a gifted dancer as well, her passion was apparent in her every motion, even in the small warm up routines we began our days with. She should have been taken to the audition, not Sarah Belle who had weak ankles and no turn out.
"Be damned what my mother has to say, she didn't leave me a set of keys." I pulled up a chair next to the one I had been sitting in and motioned for Rose to join me. She had moved in with her distant aunt from Luxembourg after her parents had passed when she was thirteen. Rose never struggled to find a kind word to say to anyone and upon seeing the way the other girls had isolated me at the studio she befriended me. It was a friendship I had desperately needed.
The coffee man walked into the main room from the back with an armful of sweet looking pastries. His eyes grew as wide as tea saucers and he hastily shoved the tray into the glass display case. He stormed around to the front of the counter and spread his arms wide in disbelief, "Who is this! Why are you just inviting strangers in here!"
Rose's cheeks flushed to a deep red and she looked at me with embarrassment. I smiled at her and turned back towards the man. "My apologies. This is my dear friend and coworker Rosealie Krier."
"You can call me Rose," She reached out and took his hand in a small shake. He nodded and mumbled that his name was Ryan in between their exchange of nice to meet you's.
"Then who are you?" He sent a pointed look in my direction, but pointed looks were not enough to pierce my armor.
"Anastasiya Vorobyov." Ryan rolled his eyes and turned back towards the kitchen where he loudly fumbled with various baking machines and coffee accessories. He busied himself behind the counter when Rose leaned over and whispered that she thought he was cute. I had to agree, he wasn't strikingly cute but he was never the less a pretty decent looking man. His hair was buzzed short and his face clean shaven. He wore a tight tee shirt for some alternative band I hadn't ever heard of. He was tall, far taller than Rose whose legs went on for miles and were pin straight. I could see where her interest for him stemmed. He came off simple, not too concerned with the two clearly foreign girls who sat in the front of his shop. Rose was a fan of the simple things in life.
I walked up to the street entrance to the studio and pulled on the door handles. As I should have expected they were locked. With my mother off picking up some other girl to take her to an audition and Lila still on a train in from the Island the studio would stay locked for quite some time. I shifted my bag on my shoulder and walked away from the door. A little ways down the street was an independent coffee shop, one whose sign was not a part of a copyright franchise and whose walls were filled with books and flyers for underground bands.
The sign said closed and I filled with frustration. I could see a man move around inside through the glass door, he unstacked chairs and wiped off tables. I knocked on the door and broke him from his trance. He angrily pointed at the sign on the door so I knocked again. He finally opened the door a crack to tell me in plain english that the store doesn't open until seven. He slammed the door then turned back to what he was doing. I knocked again a little harder and he stomped over again opening the door.
"What do you want? I already told you we're closed."
"It's frighteningly cold and no one has come to unlock my office yet." Not the whole truth but what did this stranger need to know about my life. I tried my hand at a sad puppy dog face.
"You don't look like you belong in an office." This was true. My too big coat could not conceal my well worn boots and jeans, neither of which screamed professionalism.
"Maybe I'm the housekeeper."
"Are you?" His words dripped with knowing, my lie had been paper thin.
"Please let me in." I moved towards the door with as much fluidity as I could muster.
"Fine whatever, just don't touch anything." I flashed a quick smiled and rushed inside, shutting the door behind me.
"I promise I won't be long." I quickly sat in one of the chairs he had just put down and pulled off my boots before he had time to protest. I grabbed my toes and started pushing them forwards and then pulling them back. Warming them between my fingers as I did so. I hummed as I pointed and flexed my feet. Breathing in as I flexed and pushing myself towards a perfect point as I exhaled.
"What are you doing?" The man sounded exasperated.
"Stretching. What are you doing?" I tried to sound coy and nonchalant.
"You're going to need to put your shoes back on." I rolled my eyes and slipped my feet back into my shoes. My toes felt warmer but I would've liked to continue. I would have also liked to have gone to the audition. It was not the first time my mother had chosen another girl over me, and it surely would not be the last. I pulled my hair from it's disheveled pony tail and began pulling it tightly up to the crown of my head and wrapping it into a neat bun. I fished a few renegade pins from my bag and tucked all the loose hairs away. My mother taught me when I was six how to do my own hair, how to pull it so tight I felt as if I was getting a face lift. I had known for a while she detested wasting her precious time in the morning pinning up my hair and as I grew and let my hair grow long I hated how much time it cost me. But much like dancing the preparation for the day took routine and dedication.
I looked up towards the street just in time to see a delicate girl in a large red coat walk past, her chin buried deep in a thick scarf, her blonde hair swept up into a flawless bun. I lept from my chair and threw open the front door, "Rose! Come join me!" The girl turned and with a flash of confusion walked towards me.
"Ana, what's going on?" I pulled her into the warm coffee shop and shut the door behind her. "You have surely gone mad. What would your mother say if she knew you weren't in the studio right now?" Her soft accent hung on each of her words. Rose was classically beautiful. Soft blonde hair, inviting blue almond shaped eyes that were set on her youthful face perfectly. A set of small perfectly shaped pink lips that were constantly smiling. A long neck that only seemed to emphasize her height. Long legs, perfect feet and small hips. She was a gifted dancer as well, her passion was apparent in her every motion, even in the small warm up routines we began our days with. She should have been taken to the audition, not Sarah Belle who had weak ankles and no turn out.
"Be damned what my mother has to say, she didn't leave me a set of keys." I pulled up a chair next to the one I had been sitting in and motioned for Rose to join me. She had moved in with her distant aunt from Luxembourg after her parents had passed when she was thirteen. Rose never struggled to find a kind word to say to anyone and upon seeing the way the other girls had isolated me at the studio she befriended me. It was a friendship I had desperately needed.
The coffee man walked into the main room from the back with an armful of sweet looking pastries. His eyes grew as wide as tea saucers and he hastily shoved the tray into the glass display case. He stormed around to the front of the counter and spread his arms wide in disbelief, "Who is this! Why are you just inviting strangers in here!"
Rose's cheeks flushed to a deep red and she looked at me with embarrassment. I smiled at her and turned back towards the man. "My apologies. This is my dear friend and coworker Rosealie Krier."
"You can call me Rose," She reached out and took his hand in a small shake. He nodded and mumbled that his name was Ryan in between their exchange of nice to meet you's.
"Then who are you?" He sent a pointed look in my direction, but pointed looks were not enough to pierce my armor.
"Anastasiya Vorobyov." Ryan rolled his eyes and turned back towards the kitchen where he loudly fumbled with various baking machines and coffee accessories. He busied himself behind the counter when Rose leaned over and whispered that she thought he was cute. I had to agree, he wasn't strikingly cute but he was never the less a pretty decent looking man. His hair was buzzed short and his face clean shaven. He wore a tight tee shirt for some alternative band I hadn't ever heard of. He was tall, far taller than Rose whose legs went on for miles and were pin straight. I could see where her interest for him stemmed. He came off simple, not too concerned with the two clearly foreign girls who sat in the front of his shop. Rose was a fan of the simple things in life.
♠ ♠ ♠
I don't know why I chose to update the rewrite on my almost last day of break. Hopefully, I'll visit every day, maybe a new year resolution to not let my stories fall off the face of the earth. I know the audience for this story has dramatically changed from when I first began, but I have changed as well. I also have an ending in mind this time - instead of just writing until I ran out of ideas.
Either way, I hope you enjoy, I have the first few chapters outlined. I'll try to post more today.
Either way, I hope you enjoy, I have the first few chapters outlined. I'll try to post more today.
Don't be a silent reader