Ooh, Ferraris and Chevys.
Let's see what happens on the first day.
I own nothing but Kent and Claire.
I came here to make you dance tonight
I don't care if I'm a guilty pleasure for you
Shut up 'cause we won't stop
And we're getting down till the sun's coming up
I came here to make you dance tonight
I don't care about my guilty pleasure for you
Shut up 'cause we won't stop
And we're getting down till the sun's coming up
Otto fell out of his bed. The alarm on his phone was playing. He regretfully turned it off. He turned to shower. After he'd showered, he was about to go to the closet and pick out his clothes for class, but a dry clean bag was hung in front of the closet door. It was his uniform, he guessed. It consisted of dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and red Chuck Taylors. There was a note attached to it.
Artist's uniform.
He wondered how this managed to be an artist's uniform, but he wore it anyway. Sunlight shone brightly into his room. He took a hat from his suitcase and put it on. He opened his phone, and Kent had sent him a text.
Bring these for today: pen and notebook; and for painting students; pencil, eraser, paintbrushes, paint, and sketchpad. P.S. School starts at eight.
Otto got his backpack and put everything that was in the text. He retrieved his keys from the tray, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and slipped his key card in his pocket.
He went out of his room and looked around for Kent.
"Kent?"
"Yeah," she shouted from her room.
"Should I go first?"
"Yeah, and there's coffee in to go cups on the table."
"Thanks."
Otto took one and sipped. He then exited from Suite 303 and took the elevator down to the parking lot. On the twentieth floor, an Asian girl walked in. She seemed uncomfortable with him being there. On the ground floor, he went out first and put the alarm of his car off once he got to it. The Asian seemed to stare at him as he put the key in the ignition and drove off. There were directions plugged into his phone, so he just followed them to the instruction building, the Undervisning.
He parked and got out of the Shroud, backpack over shoulder. He walked past a Shelby and Laura, but they didn't seem to know who he was, following him with their eyes and blushing once he looked. He sat down on the steps of the Undervisning, waiting for Kent. He didn't take off his hat, seeing at how hot it was. A black convertible Mustang stopped in front of him, and the driver, a black-haired girl in huge sunglasses got out and walked slowly up the steps.
"Aren't you going to park that?" he asked.
"I have a valet," she replied confidently, tossing her black mane behind her. She wore a tight red dress with some stilettos and she toted a minuscule purse.
He shook his head and ignored her. That was Claire Haruno, he guessed. Pompous princess who can't lift a finger.
Laura and Shelby stayed in a corner, fanning themselves with their hands. Not because of the weather, he guessed.
Claire went over to them, also fanning herself. Was this some sort of sorority?
A silver Bentley pulled up, and its driver was a tall Asian in a white polo shirt over a red vest, aviators, and dark blue jeans. He had a ponytail at his nape. Wing Fanchu, the singer who had fan girls. Wing walked over to Claire and began to talk to them. They weren't that far, so he listened to them inconspicuously.
"Wing, who's the guy in the hat?" asked Claire.
"I don't know," he replied calmly.
"Whoever he is, I'd like to get a piece of that," said Shelby.
"Aye. If by any chance you know him, Wing, tell us," said Laura.
"Why are all of you fanning yourselves in the first place?" asked Wing.
"Is it just him or is it really hot in here?" asked Shelby.
Otto smiled to himself. Yesterday they were giving off an aura that they thought he was weird. Today, they were asking Wing who he was, simply because he was attractive.
"I think it's him," Claire said, blushing madly.
"Riiiiight," said Wing sarcastically.
"I mean, no offense to you, Wing, but he drives a frickin' Chevy Stingray! How can you not like him," said Shelby.
"Because I'm straight," Wing replied.
The three girls seemed to chorus in a 'whatever'. Otto heard the roar of an engine, then he looked at who pulled up this time. The car was a Ferrari. He wondered what Kent got as her uniform. She put the alarm on as she parked beside the Bentley. She went out of her Shroud in (Otto had to remind himself that they were friends) a close fitting black dress, black wayfarers, red trainers, and she carried a white patent leather shoulder bag with a sort of turquoise stripe.
He listened to Wing's group's reaction.
"Ohmigod. Who is that piece of trash that out-hotted me?" Claire asked angrily.
"I don't know, but I think the rest of the boys know," said Laura softly.
"What do you think, Wing?" Shelby asked.
"What? Who? Where? Um, yeah," Wing replied, rubbing his nape.
"Wing likes her," Laura teased.
"Mmhm, Claire, I suggest you blind him," Shelby laughed.
Claire put one hand on her hip.
"Who's hotter Wing? Me or that tramp?"
"You. Yeah. You. Definitely you."
Claire then tossed a lock of hair behind her.
"What do you think we should do about this?"
"I know Claire," said Shelby, an evil grin across her face.
"What?"
"Make a scene," she replied, nodding towards Wing.
"We're friends and we've only met yesterday."
"I know what you're feeling, Claire," said Shelby in a low voice near Claire's ear, "Wing is a hot piece of shit. And lucky you, you're roommates with him. You've probably seen his 6-pack."
"How do you even know that?"
"It's called a thin shirt."
"Right. But he won't like it, I'm telling you."
"Didn't you see how he made a beeline for you once he got out of his Shroud?"
"It's just that. We're friends."
"Go on, you know you want to," Shelby said coyly. Laura nodded and pushed Claire to Wing.
"Hey," said Wing.
"Uh, hi."
Otto wondered what scene she was going to make.
"Hey Otto," said a voice near his ear. He looked to his side, and it was Kent.
"Nice little strut you did there."
"Hey, you made a quite a ruckus when you walked in here."
"Guess so. How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to know that Claire, Shelby, and Laura think you're a piece of hot trash and that Claire called me a tramp."
"A while."
"So what d'you think the scene is?"
"Just watch."
They surreptitiously looked and listened.
"So, uh, ever been in love?" asked Claire nervously.
"Not in a while."
"Ever been kissed?"
"I intentionally forgot about it. Why?"
Then Claire kissed Wing, then Kent and Otto looked away.
A bell rang, which probably meant class was to start. Other students looked upon Wing and Claire, shocked, astounded, and in the girls' case, jealous. They broke apart, both of them red in the face, obscured halfway by the sunglasses. They piled in anyway.
The Undervisning was a modern building, but at the end of the hallway was a stage. Nero stood on it. He told the students to come closer.
"This is the general exhibition stage. This is where we find out if you need extra specialty skill classes. For the representatives who wish to be in extra singing classes, you should be able to sing at least two lines from a song known worldwide. For the extra acting classes, be prepared to do a monologue from an internationally acclaimed play or movie. For the extra fashion classes, you must have one whole outfit designed by you and you alone. For dancing, have a routine to a song known worldwide. For writing, read out a scene from today or yesterday. And last but not the least, for extra painting classes, paint something and explain its composition. I will call each and every one of you. The names are not alphabetical, simply drawn from a fish bowl. A copy of your regular class list will be given to you after your exhibition. You will be given ten minutes to prepare. Begin."
The representatives dashed around madly, fumbling with their materials. Kent had already begun writing her scene. She sat down on a nearby bench, stooped over her notebook. Otto tried to find something to paint; anything would do. But everyone was in motion, so he wouldn't get a clear painting. He decided to paint Kent instead, seeing as she was just sitting there writing. After ten minutes, Nero called their attention once more. Otto finished, proud of his work. He took of his hat to reveal his spiky white hair. Claire gasped in the distance, eagerly reporting who he was. Kent retracted her pen, took off her sunglasses, and shook her hair down her back. She stood up.
"So who'd you paint?" she asked eagerly.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Nero cleared his throat and fished around the clear glass dome and found a piece of paper.
"Wing Masaru Fanchu."
About every girl either gasped or blushed. Kent rolled her eyes. Wing went up the stage.
"What song?"
"Black Hearts by Jet."
Many girls echoed one sentence, which was,
"I love that song!"
Nero cleared his throat and they all quieted down.
"Proceed, Mr. Fanchu."
"Your heart's on fire, but your cold to the touch, I know you want it but you love yourself too much, your heart's on fire but your head is a rut, you best believe it, I ain't ever giving up, so come on, come on, come on, hey yeah!"
Every girl screamed, not counting Kent. He was good and all, but she didn't like him very much.
"You now have a two-hour singing class at 2 pm, Mr. Fanchu," said Nero, handing Wing a sheet of paper. Wing nodded and went down from the stage.
Nero put his hand in the fish bowl once more. He took one piece of paper out.
"Innokentiy Madeleine Thomas."
Otto gave her a reassuring pat on the back. She smiled weakly and made her way to the stage.
"Please tell us the title of your composition, Ms. Thomas."
"Seventeen Stilettos."
"Continue."
"Tara parked her Mustang in front of the school building. She confidently walked up the steps in her sky-high stilettos, not caring who was being pained by being her valet. Adam asked her, 'Aren't you going to park that?' she answered proudly, 'I have a valet.' Adam laughed it off and listened to Tara talk animatedly with her posse which consisted of Emily, Xenia, and Isaac. Emily suddenly got an idea; why not dare Tara to kiss Isaac? They seemed in love anyways. Adam and Winona heard this and laughed. What could happen anyways? Then it happened. Tara did the dare, and thus Winona had a story to tell."
"Might I ask why it is called Seventeen Stilettos?"
"Because Tara is seventeen."
Otto suddenly realized the scene she was illustrating: this morning, when Claire and Wing made a scene. Claire turned scarlet, Wing glared at Otto, and Otto knew that Kent would be receiving some glares from Wing and Claire.
"Congratulations, you now have a two-hour literary class at 10 am, Ms. Thomas," said Nero, also handing Kent a sheet of paper. She thanked Nero and walked down, receiving applause from everyone except Wing and Claire.
Nero put his hand back in the fish bowl.
"Clarissa Alison Haruno."
Claire proudly walked up the stage.
"Please showcase your creation."
Claire showed him a wedding dress with a brocade of diamonds and a fitted bodice. Nero nodded. He gave her a sheet of paper.
"Your extra fashion classes are at 1 pm."
She nodded and strutted back to her place with Wing and her posse.
Nero drew another name from the bowl.
"Laura Slaine Brand."
Laura paled and slowly went up the steps.
"Your movie or play, Ms. Brand?"
"Les Miserables. It's sort of a song/monologue, sir."
"Very well."
"In my life, there are so many questions and answers that somehow seem wrong, in my life there are times when I catch in the silence, the sigh of a faraway song, and it sings of a world that I long to see, out of reach, just a whisper away, waiting for me."
"Extra acting classes at 3 pm, Ms. Brand," said Nero, handing her the schedule.
Laura nodded and went back to her little group.
He drew another name.
"Shelby Brooklyn Trinity."
Shelby ran up the stage.
"Your song, Ms. Trinity?"
"Evacuate The Dancefloor by Cascada."
The music came on and Shelby began to show her great skill. Once she'd finished, Nero handed her the schedule.
"Your two-hour extra dance classes are at 9 am."
Shelby nodded, then went back to her group.
"And those who have already done their exhibitions may leave for regular class or wait for their friends."
Wing's group did not leave. Nero drew another name.
"Otto Buonarroti-Malpense."
Otto took his sketchpad with him and put it on the easel that had been set up on the stage.
Oohs and aahs erupted from all around the room, even from Wing's group. Kent gasped. Otto portrayed her so beautifully even if she was just stooped over her notebook.
"The title of your piece?
"I call it 'Presumed Innokentiy'."
"You portrayed her quite well, Mr. Malpense. Explain why you omitted the other people from this painting."
"I omitted them since they were all in motion, the details of the features would be unclear."
"Good. You have two-hour extra classes at 9 am. Might I ask permission for the ISA to keep this painting?"
"Yes sir."
Otto accepted his schedule and went with Kent to Painting. He needed a bit of art right now.
It's long!
Yay!
Like I said, the only things I own are Kent and Claire.
The Les Mis stuff and the lyrics and the songs are not mine.
R&R!