#03 - March Table of Doom
Title: Nerves
Prompt(s) Used: Tightly Corked
Style(s)/Genre(s) Used: Alternate History
Word Count: 303
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Dance Academy
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: Sammy decides not to go running on that fateful day.
You lie in bed all night, your eyes wide open. You can’t sleep. You know you don’t really have a chance of winning the Internationals, but you’re nervous anyway. You’re kind of glad your friends wouldn’t dance with you on stage. You realize now how foolish that would have looked. You try not to think too much about the video you prepared instead, but you can’t. It’s the only thing on your mind. You turn over and see a tightly corked bottle of champagne, already waiting on your nightstand. It was a gift from your father. You think it was a bit premature of him, but he seems want to make amends. You’re just nervous because you don’t know if they’ll be reason celebrate.
When it finally gets light outside, you can barely wait for Christian to go on a run with you. Of course the one day you really need it, he doesn’t want to go.
You realize you can’t run, you’re too restless.
Instead of running, you decide to go sit on the hill near the dorms, watching the sun come up. Tara comes out and sits next to you. It’s almost too predictable. “I’m gonna miss you next year,” she says softly.
“Why? There’s no way I’m gonna win and no offense, now that Grace is competing for England, you don’t stand much of a chance either.”
“Wow, Sammy, way to stay positive.”
You just sigh. “I guess I’m just trying not to get my hopes up. We both know we shouldn’t be here.”
She shivers in the early morning breeze. “Don’t say that, Sammy. I just got the worst feeling.”
“What is it?”
She just shakes her head. “Nothing. Let’s just look ahead now.”
As you look out on to the possibilities of the future, you couldn’t agree more.
Prompt(s) Used: Tightly Corked
Style(s)/Genre(s) Used: Alternate History
Word Count: 303
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: Dance Academy
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: Sammy decides not to go running on that fateful day.
You lie in bed all night, your eyes wide open. You can’t sleep. You know you don’t really have a chance of winning the Internationals, but you’re nervous anyway. You’re kind of glad your friends wouldn’t dance with you on stage. You realize now how foolish that would have looked. You try not to think too much about the video you prepared instead, but you can’t. It’s the only thing on your mind. You turn over and see a tightly corked bottle of champagne, already waiting on your nightstand. It was a gift from your father. You think it was a bit premature of him, but he seems want to make amends. You’re just nervous because you don’t know if they’ll be reason celebrate.
When it finally gets light outside, you can barely wait for Christian to go on a run with you. Of course the one day you really need it, he doesn’t want to go.
You realize you can’t run, you’re too restless.
Instead of running, you decide to go sit on the hill near the dorms, watching the sun come up. Tara comes out and sits next to you. It’s almost too predictable. “I’m gonna miss you next year,” she says softly.
“Why? There’s no way I’m gonna win and no offense, now that Grace is competing for England, you don’t stand much of a chance either.”
“Wow, Sammy, way to stay positive.”
You just sigh. “I guess I’m just trying not to get my hopes up. We both know we shouldn’t be here.”
She shivers in the early morning breeze. “Don’t say that, Sammy. I just got the worst feeling.”
“What is it?”
She just shakes her head. “Nothing. Let’s just look ahead now.”
As you look out on to the possibilities of the future, you couldn’t agree more.