Something About The Sunshine
Hey, so this is a new story about an OC and Ty! It will be called… a Tylla story. So yeah, that is my couple name, but I just came up with it so…. Okay I hope you enjoy! There was one part in this chapter where Isabella is doing a dance. If you aren't a contemporary dancer, you probably won't know what she is doing.
Disclaimer: I do not own shake it Up. I do own this plot and I own Isabella Sanchez.
Bella's POV
"I can't do this, Mom," I stammered nervously, gripping onto the sides of the car seat.
"Bella, we talked about this. A new start. Don't worry, it will be fine. You were recruited here. If you don't want to do this we will just go back to Italy…" my mom assured.
"No! I can do this!" I sighed. I regained myself before I grabbed my dance bag and swung open the car.
"Bye Mom!" I said, shutting the door.
"Ciao, Bella!" Mom called, rolling down the window.
I sighed and stared up at the building. The showlights on the sign that read: Shake It Up: Chicago were illuminated in the darkness. This was it; it was time to say goodbye to Italy and hello to Chicago. It was good for my dancing. I finally received the courage to take a step toward the door.
The palms of my hands started getting warm and I turned back around to rush to my car, only to realize that Mom pulled away. I had no choice. I stepped towards the door, and soon enough I was in the studio. I was met with bright lights and a multi-colored stage, with a sign that shone behind it reading: Shake It Up: Chicago.
A man with a large show light passed me, causing me to jump back. It all happened so quickly. A short man in a grey tux with baby blue eyes and a large nose with spiky hair came running up to me.
"Isabella Sanchez?" he asked.
"That's me," I replied half-heartedly.
"A pleasure to meet you! I'm Gary Wilde, host of Shake It Up: Chicago! Maybe you've seen me in the Little Cutie Queen Pageant," he announced proudly.
I raised my eyebrows. "You were in the Little Cutie Queen Pageant? Aren't you a little too old and a little less… girl?" I wondered accusingly.
"Silly, Isabella, I was the host. You must've seen me!" he decided.
"Like I would watch any American pageants," I murmured, though Gary couldn't hear me.
"Now… we need you to perform your routine for dress rehearsal," Gary directed.
"I'm not sure I'm ready-" I insisted.
"Frank! Get this girl backstage!" Gary called, and a big burly man came.
"Follow me," he said, in a deep voice.
"No! Gary! Gary!" I called.
Gary ignored me, and yelled, "ATTENTION, CAST MEMBERS!"
At the moment, the cast members were scattered everywhere. Some were dancing to a tune playing, while others were talking, and primping themselves. The studio's excitement dimmed, as they turned their attention toward Gary. I was directed backstage.
Backstage, there were more show lights and ladders with costumes strewn everywhere.
"Now, cast! Today we have a very important person here! Her name is Isabella Sanchez and she was the best dancer in the best studio in Italy. She was recruited here to join us! She does a very different dance style than we do, for she does lyrical contemporary, but we must adapt to the change," Gary explained.
"Question!" a heavy- accented voice called from the crowd.
"No, Gunter! This is your fifth question today, and we've only been here for a half an hour!" Gary declined.
"Does she have an accent?" the voice said, disregarding Gary's stressed-out rant.
"Yes, Gunter!" Gary hollered. "Please welcome, Isabella Sanchez!"
I sighed, feeling butterflies. It wasn't like I didn't know the dance, trust me, my old dance instructor made me memorize it until I could do it in my sleep. It was that I was trying my best in front of a whole group of strangers from a different country.
The song, Ennio Morricone, began to play out as the two walls parted. There, I stood, looking dumb under the spotlight. The beginning rang out, and I positioned myself into an arabesque (A/N I don't know how to spell it) and swooped under, kicking my leg up to the ceiling. My toe gracefully touched the ground and I leaned back, all the way back until my hands were on the floor. I kicked my legs over my head and landed in a split, going into a roll-over strattle. I rolled on my stomach and my legs bent over my head with my toes touching the ground in front of me. I placed my feet fully on the ground and pulled myself up. I began to sashe, stepped, than leaped with my legs at an equal diameter. I landed and did foutes, turning them into shenae turns. I did a spin-leap and landed, rolling on my butt, and then getting up. I landed in the same arabesque that I started out in, and the music stopped.
The cast clapped and cheered. I felt so welcomed, and I smiled broadly back to them, to show thanks.
"Wow, Isabella! That was… phenomenal! Mugisimo megusto!" Gary greeted.
"Gary, that is Spanish, and I'm Italian. Plus you said it wrong: you said 'much I liked'. But thank you," I corrected.
"Darn it, I learned the entire Spanish language for nothing! Well, I got to go fire my teacher, so adios!" Gary said, stomping away.
"Hola!" two girls greeted me. One was dark-skinned with girl brown hair and a plump nose, with an army jacket and a denim skirt with combat boots. The other girl was a pale red-head with a flashing shirt, a furry vest, a black skirt, and ripped up leggings with Converse boots.
"I'm not Spanish, I'm Italian!" I cried.
"Oh, well, Gary told us to learn Spanish," the red-head frowned. I laughed.
"Hi, my name is Rocky Blu! I love studying and homework!" the dark-skinned girl said.
I stifled laughter. "You actually do homework?"
"I like this girl!" the red-head exclaimed, shoving the dark-skinned girl out of the way. "My name is Cece Jones!"
"I'm Bella Sanchez," I introduced.
"Gary was wrong about another thing! He said your name was Isabella!" Cece said, laughing.
"Cece, Bella is short for Isabella. Just like Cece is short for-" Rocky explained.
"Bella doesn't need to know that!" Cece insisted.
"Well, Bella, welcome to Shale It Up: Chicago!"
