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6
Present Day
Hauling my bags up the fourth flight of stairs, I finally reach the level where all the studio flats are situated. They’re at the top of the main building through a secure door that can only be opened with a code. Luckily for me I’m pretty fit and I’ve barely broken a sweat, but a lift would’ve been nice. I can’t afford to pull a muscle just before I start at the Academy.
Grasping my bags, and with the key fob to my flat gripped between my teeth, I search for the door with the number four on it. It’s right at the end of the corridor, opposite flat number seven. Dropping my bags, I slip the key into the lock and open the door to my new home for the next year. Flipping on the light switch, and hauling my bags inside, I step inside the room. So far I haven’t seen any of the other students who’ll be my neighbours. I doubt any of them needed to get out of their family homes as quickly as I did. I don’t really mind being on my own though. It gives me time to settle in.
Besides, it was fun to collect the key from that bitch receptionist who very nearly ruined my chance at being a dancer with the stunt she pulled the other day. Her surprise at seeing me was priceless. Well, fuck her.
I’d given her a toothy grin, snatched the key fob from her hand and practically run up the stairs, peering through the door to each floor with interest. As much as I wanted to explore every level whilst the academy was quiet, I wanted to see my new studio flat more.
“I can’t believe this is mine,” I say out loud, laughing at the fact that I’m actually talking to myself now. This is insane. Getting into Stardom Academy is one thing, but being given a flat, all expenses paid, was something else altogether. I feel lucky. Privileged.
Directly to my left is another door that leads into a bathroom. A shower sits over one of those half-sized bathtubs. There’s a sink with a mirror above it and a toilet. It’s all white, basic, but it’s clean and mine. I don’t have to share with a shitty mother who pukes her guts up after drinking too much night after night, or a little sister who spends hours preening herself no matter how much I love her.
I grin, letting out a squeal of delight. It’s not often I’m this happy and for once I’m going to enjoy my good fortune. I refuse to let thoughts of my mum or the Breakers ruin it.
Twirling on the balls of my feet, I spin down the noticeably short hallway that has a built-in mirrored wardrobe on one side, and enter the main body of my flat. There’s a kitchenette built into an alcove with an oven and electric hob, a sink, an under the counter fridge and a few cabinets. More than adequate for my needs. When I open the drawers and cupboards, I find that they’re fully stocked with all the kitchen utensils and pans I could ever need. Relief floods through me, I literally have fifty pounds to my name and that’s got to cover my food costs for another three weeks until I get paid again. Working at Rocks is a double-edged sword. I love the music, the dancing, and the regular wage, but I don’t love the gangs or the drug dealing that happens in the dark corners of the club, or the reason why I’m stuck working there still, for that matter. Zayn’s uncle Jeb owns the club, but he’s rarely seen there, thank God. He returns periodically to check in on the businesses he owns. Regardless, it’s going to be even harder working there now that the Breakers are back.
Fuck, I really wish I could find another job.
Shaking out the nerves I feel at the possibility of seeing the Breakers tonight, I walk around my new flat. The ceilings are high, and there’s a large window that forms an arch at the top letting in the last rays of sunlight from a warm September afternoon. A set of pale blue blackout curtains hang from the ceiling, brushing across the wooden floor. They’re thick, and very obviously expensive. In the corner of the room sits a single armchair, and a colourful rug covers the middle of the floor. It’s only then I realise that there isn’t a bed.
“Fuck, what am I supposed to sleep on?”
“The bed folds out from the wall, you donut,” a familiar voice says behind me.
I whip around, a grin spreading across my face despite myself. “Clancy! You’re here!” I realise how excited I sound, and tone it down. I’m not one of those squealy girly girls.
“Girl, you’re looking at one of the mostpromisingstudents,” she replies, finger quoting the air. “I’m in flat seven opposite you.”
I almost run towards Clancy and throw my arms around her, but I come to my senses and realise that that kind of behaviour isn’t becoming of a street kid. We fist and shoulder bump. Rarely do we hug. “When did you get the call?” I ask instead.
“This morning. Dad wanted to drop us off today so we could use the weekend to settle in.”
“We?”
Clancy pulls a face. “Yep, the ugly stepsister got a place too. Looks like I can’t get away from her.”
“Well that’s just a stinking pile of shit,” I say with a smirk. Sod’s law that bitch got in too.
“No kidding. Though I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out you’re here. She didn’t believe me when I said what a fricking awesome dancer you are.”
“Bitch.”
“Yep, first-class one at that. Anyway,” Clancy says, waving her hands in the air and wrinkling her nose. “We really don’t need to give her any more air-time. Do you know who else got a spot?”
“No clue,” I shrug, refusing to think the worst.
“Do you think Zayn got in…?”
“I don’t know. He was good enough,” I admit. I might feel sick at the possibility of having him so close by, but at least I can admit that he was good enough to be here. There’s no denying his skill as a dancer.
“Well, so far it’s just us three. Girl, you and I are going to be besties,” she exclaims, breaking out into another wide grin. I can’t help but think she’s right, and a little bit of the anxiety I’ve been feeling all afternoon vanishes.
“So, wanna show me how I get the bed down?”
Clancy rolls her eyes and saunters over to a set of shelves on the wall. She reaches up onto her tiptoes and grabs a small leather strap that I hadn’t noticed until now and gives it a yank. As it lowers, the shelves slide out and somehow become the base. I make a mental note not to put anything on them.
