Chapter 1 The Birthday Girl He came out of nowhere. Caught in his tailwind, her foot slipped under her in an awkward twist. The savage bend of her ankle caused pain to slice through every tendon and muscle along her leg. In sheer panic, Sydney flapped her arms like some wild bird in a failed attempt to keep her balance.
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No daughter of mine is going to be some street dancer! Give me those car keys dammit! Not a single word. Only a year and six months had passed since the blow-up over her wanting to leave. She needed to become the dancer she aspired to be to prove her father wrong. Then and only then would the walls erected in disappointment come down, and acceptance could mend the pain between them.
The door to the studio opened again and another person rushed through. Sydney followed. She unraveled her wool scarf off her neck.
She found the hall of the building empty except for her and one other prospect. Quickening her steps she grimaced when her ankle reminded her of the folly a few minutes earlier. She did however, make it to the elevator in time. Together they rode to the third floor in silence. The elevator doors opened and her hopes were dashed. Before her stretched a line of hopefuls, and each head turned toward her once she joined them.
Showtime, she thought. At the end of the table sat a striking blonde. The woman appeared to be in her late twenties possibly early thirties.
Her golden hair groomed in a blown straight style, draped the sides of her face from a center part reaching down the length of her back and arms. Her features were nearly flawless with a perfect aquiline nose, pouty lips and high cheekbones.
Sydney considered her too pretty to be a dancer and too classy to be just a model. Near her, a very fashionable man checked off names. Then it hit Sydney like a bullet. Okay, calm down, straighten up and smile. The line moved quickly, and soon it Sydney stood before the star maker.
She burned with hope. Eyes ringed with dark liner and naturally long lashes lifted to her face. He clucked his tongue and chewed on the back of his pen. Sydney felt her throat go dry, but she kept a pleasant smile on her face. I, ah, I have an audition today. Wait I know that name.
Sydney Allen? Ooooo, Sydney Allen! Over a year and half had passed since she arrived in the city. She should be used to the diversity. Hell, it was after all. The man before her had a uniquely handsome face. With mocha brown skin, and a dazzling white smile, she took note of his original flare. For starters, his brown skin complimented the sharp contrast of his platinum-bleached hair, cut low on the sides with tight curls on top.
And he had bleached his eyebrows as well. He popped the collar on his blush-pink button-down shirt. Even his lips sported a dew-kissed pink shine. Sydney accepted his hand with a firm shake. When their fingers parted, she noticed his manicured nails had pink tips. I guess pink is his signature color, she thought.
Portia warned her that her cousin Mario, who dated this man, could only get her name on the list. The rest would be up to her. Sydney noticed from her peripheral line of vision the attractive blonde seemed a bit annoyed. But understand that your favors end here. ID, please. She passed Xenia the ID; she gave her the address and telephone number where she could be reached.
Chapter 1 The Birthday Girl He came out of nowhere. Caught in his tailwind, her foot slipped under her in an awkward twist. The savage bend of her ankle caused pain to slice through every tendon and muscle along her leg. In sheer panic, Sydney flapped her arms like some wild bird in a failed attempt to keep her balance. Desperate to grab something for support, the only option left was to snatch hold of the person next to her.
Black Butterfly (2011)
No daughter of mine is going to be some street dancer! Give me those car keys dammit! Not a single word. Only a year and six months had passed since the blow-up over her wanting to leave.