Angelí's life currently consists of her parents making her life hell. Because she does not want to return to college, they insist on making her work into the family company. She does not want to work in on the family business. Sure she was once interested, when she was 10, but dancing has never been her forte. Yes ladies and gentlemen, her family business is a successful dance company in California. But Angelí can't dance; she doesn't have the figure or the balance. Okay maybe the figure excuse is rubbish because she seen people much thicker than her dance majestically. But she really does not have balance. Her father said she inherited his mother's legs. Angelí can easily remember dance routines, she can possibly substitute any fallen dancer, but when she starts to dance Angelí just looks extremely awkward, her dance moves don't look... right. Her mind is filled with many dance routines, from lyricals, to jazz, to hip-hop, pop, flamenco, salsa, waltz, any kind really, you name it. But she can't shake her hips, two-step or glide to save her life. And because she's such a terrible dancer, her mother thought it would be "absolutely wonderful" if she could be the dance manager, in other words babysit and be the chauffer to little gremlins and horrid stuck up ballerinas.

But Angelí still knows her weight is a reason she doesn't want to dance. It's not to say that because she's fat she can't dance at all, it's because she knows herself to be a coward and is easily embarrassed of how she looks like when she dances. Angelí isn't ugly at all, she just doesn't have a thick, luscious, pear shaped body to go with her pretty decent face; she's more of a grotesque rotten apple flopping around everywhere. When she figured that she could not dance at all, all physical activities around her just never caught her attention. She let herself get heavy instead of focusing on a fun sport. Her tall height doesn't help also, she isn't super tall, only 5'7, but in her family she's the second tallest, right in between her idiot stuck-up 24-year-old brother, who stands at 5'9 and can dance anything and everything gracefully, and her father that is 5'5, known to be great with stage dances. She sticks out for family pictures being taller than her 5'4 26-year-old sister, expert at hip-hop and pop, and 5'2 mother, who coaches each and every routine. Plus attending formal parties, Angelí looks pretty awkward standing next to her family. The only thing she's good at is having common sense and an amazing voice. She's accepted many things that have happened to her, she knows she deserves all she can get because she's become to lazy to do anything to change.

†

"My life has no meaning anymore," Angelí moans out of bed, "well, it's not like it was getting any better." Dragging her body to the shower, her mind wanders off to the good times she has spent in her room.

No more spending her days reading and singing about in her bedroom. No more sleeping her life away, no, she's being forced to grow up and be an adult at the age of 19, when her older siblings literally just got a job, literally this year. They are six to nine years apart from each other and somehow Angelí has to "grow up" with her siblings.

Angelí steps out of her shower smelling of Coconut and Limes, untangling her hair furiously because long hair doesn't play nice and hears the chime of an incoming text. Hmm, it's 9am; I would be sleeping if it weren't for mother, I really shouldn't have slept at 3am.

Ashlie: Are we allowed to eat before the competition?

"It's to early to put up with these morons. What, suddenly they can't decide what's good for their damn bodies?"

Yes Ashlie, you've competed dozens of time, why would I change anything.

Who names their child Ashlie and instead of a -y- like a regular human. Wearing her black sweats and baby blue knit sweater and black vans Angelí gets into the company team van and drives to pick up dancers from their houses. Why do I have to be the one to chaperone the idiots. Why can't dad just higher a goddamn bus driver?

Soon the car is filled with high-pitched laughter, hairspray, and girls screaming at Angelí to drive slower, "because fake eyelashes are hard to attach in a moving car." What the fuck do they honestly expect, a smooth drive on the crooked pavements of Los Angeles?

I'm EXHAUSTED, 13 hours being stuck with these girls, and the few boys, that don't know the difference between their, there, and they're, does dancing kill brain cells or is it just this group, and 2 hours are left for the awards and then driving the dancers back home. I can sneak out for the last 2 hours right? They don't need me to pick up the awards and shit. Yeah, I can go to 7Eleven real quick and get my Xxtra Flaming Hot Cheetos and Arizona. Angelí crept silently out of the auditorium and ran to the quiet parking lot. "Freedom! Sweet silence and darkness of the night, no more pink and glitter. Oh look stars! I've never been so happy to see the moon." She gives a long stretch and walks to her parking spot.

Starting up the van she unlocks her phone to look for the nearest 7Eleven, "No service! What the fuck, I'm not even near the woods! What is this? Someone, anyone, give my life new meaning; stop me from a life of torture and misery! Please I beg you, take me somewhere, anywhere, any time, any day, and take me far away!" Angelí head bangs her head against the steering wheel.

Although Angelí was being extremely sarcastic, it seems that another life force took her statement very seriously.

Angelí starts the car again and begins to cruise around the street to find reception. With her phone on one hand and the other on the steering wheel, the empty streets gave her the opportunity to pay attention to both hands. Around the fifth street she started driving by, her phone immediately gains full bars, "AHH YES FINALLY!"

Angelí started to celebrate wiggling in her seat, that is until she notices in her peripheral vision a black figure in front of her still moving car.

"AHHHH!" She immediately steers the car to the left, but with the weight of the bags filled with many costumes, hair supplies, makeup supplies, and practices mats, everything slammed to the left side and made the car rotate and flip to the side and making Angelí crack her head onto the street and broken glass.

Disoriented, Angelí tries to look for her phone and call for help, but all around her sight she see's glitter all around her, Christ, I'm dying here and the only thing I see is fucking glitter from the idiots makeup bags. Suddenly she feels a tug in her navel and her body being jolted side to side. What the fuck, if someone is trying to flip the damn van, they're idiots for not helping me first!

Angelí's final thought before she passed out of exhaustion and her concussion... What's up with my stomach?

†

eyy, catch me on my errors, i'm very blind at editing my work to be honest.