Peep the media!!!👀👀👀

~~~~~~~
"Dance for me,
dance for me,
dance for me, oh, oh.
I've never seen anybody do
the things you do before."
~~~~~~~
-Tones & I (Dance Monkey)

Beryl

I crashed on my bed, drenched in sweat after a gruelling, seemingly timeless workout session with my mum.

Dragging myself to the bathroom, I took a much needed shower and then crashed back down again.

"I swear, if I don't become like you,"I groaned at the poster of world renowned dancer, Misty Copeland,I had fixed on my sky-blue wall.

I let my eyes roam round my huge, suite-like room.

There were shelves overflowing with trophies, medals and plaques I'd won over the years.

I also had posters and paintings of famous dancers like Anna Pavlova, Misty Copeland, Lalisa Manoban and Kaffy littered on the walls.

In one corner was the door to my walk-in closet for regular clothes and in another was the door to my second walk-in closet for just dance clothes.

Then, there was my space near the huge windows, where I stretches first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

My eyes suddenly diverted to my desk situated at the other end of my gigantic room, where my laptop sat, open.

I pulled myself over there and sat down.

When I clicked my laptop back on, the first thing that popped up excited me, yet dampened my mood.

Julliard School of the Arts
Application Form

I had already filled most of the form digitally, and I had a printed copy on my desk which had countless scribbled and cancelled parts in pencil, from when I was indecisive about what to write.

Thing is, I can't screw this up.

Julliard is my dream school; I can finally prove that I'm serious about my dancing dream.

It's not like I'm good at anything else- my results and report cards speak for themselves- so why not be dedicated in what I can do?

My room door opened and in walked my mother, decked out in a crop top and bum shorts, her usual style.

Sometimes I stop and wonder if she really is me and my brother's mother.

Because she most certainly doesn't look, talk or act like her last born child is a final year student in secondary school.

"Hi, Mummy-"

"Mummy what?"

I grinned. "Hi, Mummy Bee."

She smiled and plopped down yoga-style into the large white swing seat I had hanging from the wall.

Since when I was little, my mum always called me 'Honey Bee', because I took such a liking to the dance movie Honey.

As a result, I called her 'Mummy Bee' and the nickname just stuck.

"Whatcha doing Honey Bee? Have you spoken to Jerome lately?"

I frowned at that, remembering how I'd swallowed my pride and called him last night, only for some bitch to pick up and tell me that Jerome was not available and would call me back when they were done.

I can't wait for tech people to come up with a way to digitally transmit slaps.

"Actually, I'm just taking a look at the application again,"I said.

"For Julliard?"

Where else?

"Yeah."

Mum looked up from playing with her French manicured nails.

"You'll have to hurry up with that, I heard the auditions in Lagos start sometime this month."

I felt colour drain from my face.

"This month?"

I can't get my grades up that fast!

"What's wrong, Honey Bee?"

"I...um...nothing."

She gave me a stern look.

"Honey Bee...."

"Okay, fine, my GPA's not all that great and I'm scared of putting it down on the form," I said, getting up and pacing round the room. "What if they don't accept my application?"

"Beryl," Mum called sharply.

Oh boy, here we go...

"Do a front aerial illusion into split rolls."

Rolling my eyes, I executed the moves, seamlessly, if I do say so myself.

"Don't stress, sweetheart. Finish up the form and submit it like that."

I groaned and sat up in my split.

"Mum,this is Julliard! Julliard! As in the top school for all things performing arts in the world!!!"

"Beryl!"

I shut my trap and sulked.

"I understand your dilemma, I really do. Do you know how much pressure I had to undergo when applying for dance shows and stuff before I hit it big time? It's just like this."

"Not really! Your whole future didn't depend on your grades, but mine does."

"What I'm trying to say is, if Julliard doesn't accept you, you leave it for something else. I mean, you have the New York Dance Academy, Maryland School of the Arts....heck, even the Dance Department at UNILAG is top tier. There's nothing to worry about, Honey Bee."

She walked up to me and held my face that looked so much her own.

"You worry like your father, jeez"

I smiled weakly at that.

"Who needs a high GPA, anyway? You've got more talent than that whole damn school combined..."

She left me and moved over to my Misty Copeland poster.

"Besides, you're dad and I are always ready to..assist in case of any issues."

"Assist," I said slowly. "How so?"

"Anyway we can. Think of it as us being good parents and supporting your dream."

That dampened my mood even more.

I love my life, I don't want to change it for anything.

But sometimes....sometimes I wish my parents weren't famous.

Then it wouldn't feel like all my successes are because of them.

I wouldn't feel the need for their assistance when things like this happen.

I got up from the floor and checked the time.

"Uh..Mum, I've got somewhere to go right now."

She looked me up and down, then nodded.

"Be safe, Honey Bee," she said, exiting me room.

Sighing, I tugged on a sweatshirt, filled a bag with what I needed and left.

.......

Jimi

"I didn't see you at school for the Independence celebration," Beryl said as she drove me home from the hospital.

At least I think she's driving me home, these streets are kinda unfamiliar.

"Dr. John called me in for a quick session with my crutches before they closed for the public holiday."

I cast a quick glance at my crutches, wrapped in blue and black to make them look closer.

"Oh, if you'd been around, I would've invited to go out with and my friends."

I smiled a little, then furrowed my brow in confusion.

"Um...Beryl?"

"Yassss?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," she smirked.

I sat back in the cool, plush leather of the car seat.

"What about all our friends from Star Dance? I didn't stay in touch with anyone," I said with a hint of regret.

She paused from bopping her head to Lagos Anthem by Zlatan Ibile, which was playing on the radio.

"Well, you've probably heard of Kenny and Tai since then, right?"

I nodded.

Our old friends, Kehinde and Taiwo Lawani were big names on social media.

"Right now, they're at G.I.F.T.T.S in Abuja."

Ah, yes, the General Institute For Training Talented Students, the top school in the continent for gifted kids.

"Chris, Sam, JK,and Fabiana still dance. Sometimes we practice together-"

"JK as in Ejike Mbamalu?" I interjected.

"Yeah," Beryl said with a nervous laugh." I know you guys never clicked."

Never clicked meaning we hated each other's guts with passion.

"Go on," I sighed.

"Rosé is mostly into cooking, while Lisa and Jennie have a DIY thing going on. Bianca focuses on school, while Saleh is a pro-gamer. They all still dance, but I see them do these other things more."

I smiled,remembering my childhood at Star Dance Academy.

"Don't worry, I'll add you to the group chat," she said.

My phone pinged with a message before I could respond to Beryl,and I brought it out of my pocket.

Marina❤❤: Just finished the seminar, but I'm tired as fuq🥲. I'll call you later, okay?

A smile graced as I quickly texted my girlfriend back.

Me: Sure😘.

When I looked up from the phone, Beryl was pulling into the driveway of a sleek building.

I recognised it as one of the buildings her mum uses to hold her crazy expensive dance and fitness classes.

We got down and walked into the reception.

Well, walked for Beryl, more like hobbled for me.

After greeting the receptionist, we went upstairs.

I could music blasting and the sound of people hyping from the doors we passed.

"I'm practising solo today," she said as we stepped into a large studio.

The floor was made of special wood that gave more 'jump' while dancing and wasn't too hard on the feet.

It was lightly air-conditioned, with a mirror wall and a ballet barre.

Nostalgia hit me like a tidal wave.

Beryl took of her sweatshirt, leaving her in only a tank top and black leggings, while I sat on a small bench in the corner.

She tied her long, white braids up in a pony tail as she moved her feet to warm up.

Then she grabbed her phone.

"I have an interview with Jerry Ihenna and Rema's going to perform his song Woman . My mum went crazy and choreographed this dance for me, since I'll be his back up dancer."

Hearing that she had an interview with one of the biggest celebrity talk show hosts in the country wasn't that big of a deal.

I mean, she is a star and all that.

"Let's see it then," I said.

She tapped at her phone and then set it down on her bag.

The music started playing from the large Bluetooth speakers.

A vibe-filled Afrobeats song about Rema's love for women.

Beryl's face took on a flirty expression as she moved expertly to the song.

Popping and twisting and locking.

She executed each move with a clear precision and flair.

To an untrained eye, the routine she was performing looked easy, but any dancer would know it required an immense amount of muscular control.

I clapped when she finished the dance, hardly breaking a sweat.

She did it two more times after that, adding freestyles where she chose too and basically spicing it up to her liking.

"Won't you rest small?" I asked when she picked up her phone again.

She smiled,placed it back down and got into position.

"This is rest."

(A/N: Now you can play 'My Time' by Jungkook of BTS if you have it. It's the song from the media)

The first beat dropped in a rhythmic guitar riff that was slow and powerful.

It was My Time by Jungkook.

My breath hitched slightly as the atmosphere changed, getting darker, deeper.

There seemed to be a spotlight on Beryl, highlighting her figure as she danced.

The smooth voice boomed through the speakers.

Her movements were calculated.

Seductive, even.

Her bright brown eyes, dilating.

Her look, intense.

The transformation from bubbly fairy to sultry minx took my breath away.

She had the ability to simply hypnotise you with the way she moved.

It's a gift few people possess, but she does, in bucket loads.

The song hit a crescendo.

🎶Sometimes when I'm gasping for air
I wear my hat low and keep running
Yeah, I don't gotta know where I go
Even if it's opposite of sun
One time for the present
Two times for the past
Happy that we met each other
Now till the very end....🎶

I held my breath as she went down to the floor in a frog sit, whining away to the final ad-lib.

She did the splits as the music ended.

Light seemed to return to the room, dissipating the intense energy that had built up.

I sat, staring, almost open-mouthedly.

"Jimi? JimJam? Hello? Something wrong?"

She waved her hands and snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"You...you choreographed that?"

"Yeah."

Beryl suddenly burst out in laughter.

"It's awful, isn't it?"

I blinked as she kept laughing.

Does she even know what she just did?

I sighed internally, wishing that Marina didn't hate dance as much as she did.

"Come, stand up," Beryl said, stretching her hands out to me.

I reached for my crutches but she shook her head.

"As in, stand up by yourself."

I frowned.

"Aw, come on, JimJam, I know you can stand on your own. I saw you in the hospital."

Rolling my eyes, I pushed myself off the bench, balancing as lightly as I could on both feet.

"Why am I standing, Beryl?"

"I had a little convo with Dr. John and he said yes when I asked if you could start dancing again."

"What?!"

"Don't get worked up! Haven't you seen that movie where this gymnast was in an accident, and her physiotherapist -who turned out to be a street dancer- introduced her to dance to help her recovery?"

"Um....no!"

"Well, anyway, the doc said you're cleared to dance, so get your ass over here."

I walked slowly towards her.

"I'm gonna teach you this dance I just did."

The hypnotic one?

"Beryl, I haven't danced in ages and right now, I'm a bit locomotively impaired," I argued.

"Locomotive schmocolotive, just try!"

I sighed. "Alright."

She showed me the first 15 counts of the dance, which was mostly hand movements and some leg movements.

I was able to get it after a while, then she played the music and we did the dance together.

"You see!" she said, clapping."You're still so good."

"Yeah, thanks, but my leg's beginning to hurt," I said, wincing.

"Oops!"

She grabbed my crutches and handed them to me.

I balanced myself on the two plastic pillars, relief flooding through me.

"Your brother's here to pick you up,"Beryl said, looking at her phone.

"Huh? How did you-?"

"I took your phone while you were dying on the treadmill; that was also when I spoke to your doctor," she replied with a smile.

This girl....

"Guess I'd better get going. I've got to study for the tests, anyway."

Beryl's face fell the slightest bit and she hissed under her breath.

"Same time next week?"

"Same time next week."

And that's all for today, folks.

It'll be good to look for the English lyrics and interpretation of 'My Time', bcos the song kinda represents Beryl.

Thoughts on Jimi and Marina?

Thoughts on the chapter in general?

BLACKPINK fans will notice what I did🙈🙈🙈.

Leave a vote and a comment, please.

😘😘😘😘😘.