FAME
Prologue: Remember My Name
A/N: Howdi one and all! Tis I, Sweet Tart, back with a new fic! The basic plot outline is slightly stolen from FAME (a super cool 80's show). A group of talented teens attend the School of Peforming Arts in new York, but this has Newsies which makes it much more fun! I sent out a CC for it a little while ago, but if anyone is still interested, CC info is down below! So read, review and ENJOY!
Baby look at me
And tell me what you see
You ain't seen the best of me yet
Give me time I'll make you forget the rest
I got more in me
And you can set it free
I can catch the moon in my hands
Don't you know who I am
Somewhere, in New York City is a school. This isn't your typical school. Sure, there is a cafeteria, English classes and annoying teachers, but I don't know of many schools where you can find students playing instruments for leisure, movie scenes acted out on lunch tables or where leotards and tights are a regular fashion. This is the School of the Performing Arts, a place where the unique and talented go to flourish and train for their chosen careers. However, don't think of it all as fun and games. Not only are they attending all the classes of a regular student, but they spend every waking moment practicing their talent. There are the normal divisions, triumphs, joys and failures, but the students must learn to be more than their gift and find a courage and strength inside of them to truly become an artist.
I'm gonna live forever
I'm gonna learn how to fly
High
I feel it coming together
People will see me and cry
Fame
Mush Meyer's eyes quietly surveyed the room around him, the dark walls, the dirty floor, the windows that were barred with sheets of coarse wood. He was finally leaving it all behind. Something inside Mush was telling him that he should be a little emotional to be leaving. After all, he had lived in that small apartment since he was an infant. He could never bring himself to call it home. The place where he and his family had all once lived together had turned into his own place only two years previous, and even though Mush was only seventeen, he found himself living alone. His father had died when Mush was very young, and his brother had been in jail since he was ten. Mush's mom, well, he had called her to tell her that he was accepted to the school for his dancing, but he couldn't tell through her slur if she understood him. Even though he had seen things that most seventeen year olds could not boast about, Mush was always the same happy-go-lucky guy, a little naïve and gullible, but sweet and kind hearted. He was the youngest of the boys in his building, and his optimistic nature had earned him the nickname of Mush (shortened from Mush-for-brains). But, the boys always had his back, though they were less than thrilled to hear that Mush was going of to an Arts school to be a dancer.
"A dancer?! Oh boy, what has happened to you, Mushy?! A twinkle toes dancer?!"
Mush's pals all seemed to cry in unison, bursting with laughter and disbelief. Mush just flashed his good-natured smile.
"Yes, for the millionth time, a dancer."
"You must be crazy man. It's all gonna be tights and ballet!"
Mush shook his head, but before he could cut in, his friends continued.
"You ain't neva gonna fit in with those stuck up art students! They know you don't belong there, and you do too. They are gonna walk all over you, and you little Mush-for-brains, is just gonna lie down and take it, and kiss their asses while your at it!"
Mush sighed again, part of him exasperated, but part of him fearful.
"What if they're right? What if they do walk all over me…"
He thought quietly to himself. His friends sensed his disbelief.
"You just gotta do no more Mr. Nice Mush, okay! You always are worryin' about everyone liking you! Don't! You ain't there to make friends, you are there to dance!"
This brought Mush to where he was right now. He practiced his mean face in the mirror all week. Mush was a nice guy by nature, but no one else needs to know that. Dancing was his life, and he would do anything it took to achieve that dream. If having no friends at his new school was the price to pay, then so be it.
I'm gonna make it to heaven
Light up the sky like a flame
Fame
"Ginger Larson, what are ya waitin' for? A private invitation?! Ya get your buns down here if you wanna be at your artsy-fartsy little school on time!"
A frazzled looking woman with greying hair bellowed as she tried in vain to pull apart a pair of fighting boys.
"Hold on a minute, ma! I'll be right there!"
A voice holding the same thick Bronx accent belonging to the frazzled women came from down the hall behind a closed door. Ginger Larson stood before a full-length mirror, sucking in her stomach and admiring her new towering frame, credited to the fact that she was wearing a pair of shockingly yellow high-heel pumps. Anyone who stopped to look at or speak to Miss Ginger Larson would easily tell you there was nothing plain about the most peculiar young lady. Just by appearances, one would never label her as typical. Sans the heels, Ginger was a mere five foot even with a slightly curvy figure and tiny feet. Her curly, orange hair was wild and did whatever it pleased, not like Ginger minded. Her emerald green eyes were large and orb like, her cheeks round and covered in freckles. As well, she had an odd fetish for hats and was usually wearing one, whether it be fedora, beret or sombrero. But, looking in the mirror, all Ginger could see was average.
"Not anymore."
She whispered defiantly to herself. Ever since she had received her acceptance letter for the School of the Performing Arts, Ginger had found more in herself to criticize and hate. Being accepted was only the beginning. No munchkin girl from the Bronx was ever going to amount to anything. Unless she changed.
"No more plain Ginger Larson. Not at the School of the Performing Arts. The real Ginger is glamorous and interesting! The real Ginger is an actress!"
"If I was you, I'd go with sneakers. You're less likely to break your ankle and we're less likely to lose our eyesight."
Ginger whipped around, teetering dangerously on her heels. Unfortunately for her, her beloved neighbour had taken the opportunity to climb down the fire escape and into Ginger's open bedroom window. Ginger wobbled as best, and most fearsomely, as she could until she was eye to eye with the offender.
"It's a bit early for Christmas, Higgins the Elf. Besides, I ain't got a chimney."
Racetrack snorted. He may not have been a giant, but he was still a whole two inches taller than Ginger. Ginger continued with her rant.
"Besides, haven't you creeps at da North Pole ever heard of knockin'?"
"Should I have to knock if I'm bringin' an early Christmas present?!"
Racetrack grinned proudly, but Ginger raised a cautious eyebrow.
"A, yes! It is common courtesy. B, I am intrigued. And C, 'dis better not be another pull my finger joke!"
Ginger and Racetrack had been neighbours and classmates since the age of seven. Their love/hate relationship bloomed the day Ginger and her family had moved in. She had barely been in her new room for five minutes when a sprightly young Italian had snuck in through her window and sprayed her with a water-gun (Ginger retaliating by stealing his pants and pushing him back out the window). It had been the same ever since then. Race would crawl in Ginger's window, Ginger would insult him and then Race would tell a stupid joke. Good times had by all.
"Please, Ginger! Pull my finger? That is an insult to my creative genius!"
Race put a hand over his heart and flopped dramatically onto Ginger's bed. Ginger rolled her eyes and sighed, taking a seat beside her friend. He was feigning his best 'dead' face. Ginger took the opportunity to kick off her heels and poke Race mercilessly with them.
"Spill the beans, Higgins! I ain't got all day!"
Race sat up with lightening speed, his face breaking into a rat-like grin.
"I thought you'd neva ask!"
Race paused and took a dramatic breath (and ended up choking…on the air). Ginger sighed deeply and pushed him off the bed. It was impossible for Racetrack just to say something; it was always a production.
"I'm okay! I'm okay!"
He wheezed from somewhere on the floor. Ginger rose and stepped over his small frame.
"You'll have to tell me later, Higgins. I think I hear my mom barking again!"
"But my brother, he has the car! Since we both got accepted, I figured there was no sense in you and your mom taking the train all the way there!"
Race and Ginger had both auditioned for the school the previous winter, and both had gotten accepted as comedic drama majors. And, as much as Ginger loved her mom, she would not pass up a chance to avoid the whole teary good-bye. Race grinned knowingly as he headed for the window.
"Be down at my place in five! Merry early Christmas, Ginger!"
I'm gonna live forever
Baby remember my name
"Dave! David Jacobs!"
A cheerful, excited voice came from behind David, causing him to jump over a foot in the air. He whirled around (nearly losing his balance) to see a familiar face.
"Chloe Cormac! How was your summer?
"Awesome, Davey! Hey, have you seen Jack Kelly?"
"Hello to you too! And no, I haven't."
Thus went most exchanges between David and Chloe, who had nothing much in common besides the fact that both of their best friends were Jack Kelly. The two first met when David, who was experiencing a little 'love at first site' shock, tripped over his own feet and landed in his macaroni and cheese. Chloe helped him up and gave him her napkin. The whole rest of the year he had followed her around like a lovesick puppy, not like she noticed much. Chloe Cormac had made it quite clear to any boy who asked her on a date that she was going to be a Broadway star, and no boy was going to get in the way. So, Dave felt it best to admire her from afar. That was until the day that Chloe and Jack Kelly, David's best friend, were forced together for a school project. Chloe was a double major of dance and musical theatre who needed someone to write a song for a number she was going to be in at a school performance. Jack was a music major who spent all his spare time writing music and desperately wanted a way to get it to the public. Voila! A match made in heaven, though Jack almost declined because he thought it was too 'commercial'. Soon, the three were spending everyday together and David's wild crush had toned down to…well, a wild crush he was a little more 'in check' about, though his clumsiness had not completely disappeared when in the gaze of Chloe Cormac.
"Should we…find him? I mean, I could help you, if you want."
Chloe grinned.
"I'd love that! Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you! I have really big news for him!"
She announced digging around in her over-sized bag that looked like once it could have possibly been a beach-ball. David had spent more than a few sleepless nights trying to put his finger on why exactly he liked Chloe Cormac, finally settling on the fact that she was like no one he had ever met before. First of all, saying she was pretty was an understatement. Chloe was tall and thin, a lithe dancer's body, with fair skin and a chipper smile. Though she denied any Irish heritage in her blood, her eyes were the brightest green David had ever seen, and her shoulder-gracing red hair was nothing short of stunning. To sum Chloe up in a few words is near impossible, but one may settle on talented, persistent, hard-working and ambitious. But what David loved most about her was her confidence, which is something Chloe had in spades. She had no inhibitions about being her own person and doing what she wanted to do, especially when it came to fashion. David looked over her outfit, which the rainbow of colours was near blinding, but his eyes settled on a long dark blotch running down her pants. A new trend, no doubt.
"Chloe, nice uh…stripe?"
David said politely, pointing to her jeans. Chloe moaned.
"So it is that noticeable?! I just got these yesterday, but some blonde airhead pushed me and made me spill my coffee all over myself."
Chloe was good at putting on the dramatics. She started batting her eyelashes, twirling her hair around her finger and fanning herself with another hand, filling her voice with an over-exaggerated southern accent.
"Dear me, I am terribly sorry! Didn't even see ya there! I spend so much time milkin' cows on Old MacDonald's Farm that I completely forgot how to walk!"
Dave chuckled in spite of himself and felt his old affections for Chloe swell up inside him.
"Come on, I'll buy you a new coffee, then we can go find Jack"
Baby hold me tight
Cause you can make it right
You can shoot me straight to the top
Give me love and take all I've got to give
Baby I'll be tough
Too much is not enough
I'll grab your heart til it breaks
Ooo I got what it takes
Rose Hamilton was a lucky girl. Unfortunately, it was not the luck most people would yearn for. Ever since Rose had arrived in New York from her home town of Santa Fe, a black cloud of bad luck had been following her around, and anything that could possibly go wrong did! Her taxi from the airport had gotten her hopelessly lost, prompting her to walk twenty-five blocks from where it had let her off to the school, wearing down her brand new shoes that her dad had given her as a good-bye present. Once she had finally made it into the school, a brightly dressed young lady had come wheeling out of a door (which Rose will still attest to you that the door was never there before), running straight into Rose. The girl spilled her own hot coffee all over her own new pants. Rose sulked off, but not before the girl had, quite publicly, announced Rose's clumsiness. So, Rose was now seated on her hard bed, head in her hands.
"I don't belong in New York."
She moaned. Rose had been so sure of herself back in Santa Fe. She had been a dancer since the age of three, taking classes ranging in everything from ballet to African jazz and Latin ballroom to the Jitterbug. Rose was a modest girl, but confidence was always something she had had, well, until that morning. Now the one thing in Rose's life that she had always been so sure of was filled with uncertainty. And that scared Rose more than anything.
"I'm going for a walk!"
She announced anxiously to the empty room around her. Rose scurried as quickly as she could to get out of the room. Slowly walking down the hallway, she prayed she would be able to find her way back to her room. It wasn't even noon and Rose already felt like her day was ruined. She made her way down a darkened hallway, praying to avoid anyone and everyone, especially anyone with a cup of coffee. Then, it suddenly came to her, drifting down the once silent hallway. Loud dance music came pumping through the walls. Rose couldn't help herself. Her feet led the way, dancing down the hallway, closer to that sound. Closing her eyes, she twirled down the hallway. Rose just kept dancing until suddenly…the music stopped. Rose opened her eyes with a start. She was standing in front of a window, and inside sat a young man behind a synthesizer, wearing a huge grin on his face. Rose saw her reflection go beat red. The boy waved and rose, opening the door to come talk to her. Rose didn't want to talk, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
"Hi."
She said meekly. The boy laughed.
"Hi. You know, your reaction is not the kind I'm used to getting when people here my music, but thank-you so much for…dancing! It's nicer than booing and tomatoes!"
He laughed again.
"Damn it, he's cute too! He probably thinks I'm a lunatic!"
She thought to herself.
"I have to go."
Rose muttered the same time that the boy said:
"I'm Jack Kelly!"
He outstretched his hand and Rose reluctantly accepted it.
"Rose Hamilton."
"Rose, pretty name! It's a shame you have to go, I was just about to practice another song. I could use a dancer!"
He winked, causing Rose to blush even deeper.
"Oh, too bad."
Rose laughed nervously.
"See you around, Jack."
Jack watched her, with a sigh, run out of the hallway almost as fast as she had danced in. He thought she was anything but a lunatic. His day had been spent hiding alone in a room, perfecting his music when she came dancing into his life. He had never seen anyone more beautiful or mysterious. Jack was sad to see her go. He couldn't wait to see her again, and learn more about the mysterious dancer.
Rose grinned the entire way back to her room, deciding that if her face ever turned back to its original colour that she might make another visit down that hallway. She fiddled around in her pocket for her keys, but found her door already partially opened.
"Someone's robbing my place!"
Then she realized, with a laugh, that she was inside a school. She swung the door open and sauntered in.
"Hello?! Are you my new roommate?! My name is Rose Hamilton!"
She stopped when she found her new roommate, dancing jovially on top of Rose's neatly made bed. Rose's luck had officially gone from bad to worse. The girl stopped and glared.
"I'm Chloe Cormac and you got to be shittin' me!"
Fame
I'm gonna live forever
I'm gonna learn how to fly
High I feel it coming together
People will see me and cry
Fame
I'm gonna make it to heaven
Light up the sky like a flame
Fame
I'm gonna live forever
Baby remember my name
A/N: So...what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Review! Chappy dedication to Knots and Trinket! This is for you! And here is the CC info. Thanks! CTB!
Name:
Nickname:
Age/Grade:
Personality:
Appearance:
Major: (School of Performin Arts, so think drama, musical theatre, dance, etc)
Boy: (No garuntees)
Hometown:(I made this a boarding school, so you can come from basically anywhere:
Pet Peeves:
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Anything Else: