I woke up with a start.
I ambled towards my calender as I pulled my long, wavy, red hair back with a black elastic. I pulled my long top down so it hugged my figure and pulled the too-long sleeves over my knuckles. I yawned slowly as I read what was scrawled in my clumsy writing:
First rehearsal; Break it; 9.am. Corner of the long line of fashion stores, including new look and river island.
I nodded to myself and glanced at the alarm clock. It was 8am. I slipped into a comfy designer hooded jumper and some black jogging bottoms, brushing my teeth as I went. I pulled on my Converse and ate a granola bar in two bites, slamming the door as I ran into the brisk wind, my phone and alarm pod (that Arch had given to me) in my pocket.
My hands pushed open the metal doors as I slowly glided into the large dance hall. A woman with a pad quietly asked what my name was.
"Leo Sparks," I spoke loudly with a grin. She skimmed through the names on the list and then touched her pen to the paper, her wrist moving delicately as she did so.
"If you would like to go and wait at the top of the hall," She said, pointing towards the front. I nodded, and took my position.
Beep, beep, beep.
I took out my alarm pod.