Post by Deleted on May 15, 2012 0:05:31 GMT -6
Andi Foster's Phone Call
a snippet of it.
doing feel like editing in italics.
just trying to get the muse warmed up / not that great.
The sea of eyes gleamed at her direction, the beaming expressions lighting up her way down the crimson red carpet. The blinking camera flashes hit against her face that shined right into her insides, boiling a power inside that she had never felt.
Andi Foster was finally feeling what it was like to be on top.
“Over here, Mademoiselle Foster!”
“Tell us what inspires you!”
“Show me that beautiful smile, Andi!”
Andi Foster gushed in the bright lights, her body tight sea green dress flowing behind her, as she made her way toward the Moulin Rouge. She waved at a few cameras, winking a couple times to give a few flirtatious pictures because she was feeling confident. Something inside of her knew she was number one, and all of Paris knew it too. In fact, looking out, Andi realized that Paris in it’s entirety was now gazing at her with awestruck faces. Andi was a goddess of dance and a goddess of Paris.
“You have done it, Andi!” Santa Clause cried out from behind her, wrapping a large claw around her bare shoulder, and smiling toothy at the nearby paparazzi.
Andi Foster did not know what Santa was doing with an arm wrapped around her, but she loved Santa Clause, and she loved this moment. She relished in the photograph with Santa. Santa believed in her, and what an honor!
Her red curls bouncing against her collar bones, she felt a force pulling her away from Santa, and a tight grip slither around her waist- that was extra tiny and fit tonight. Gasping ever so Marilyn Monroe like, she looked up to see Mister Bolitar, grinning out into the crowd, and waving a hand. It was Myron Bolitar, the Moulin Rouge owner, right beside her, holding her as if she were his own. He was even more handsome than she had imagined in pictures. Andi Foster’s mind was reeling, but apart of her thought this casual.
“Smile, kid, you’re the next big thing.”
His voice was James Earl Jones which made him all the more enchanting. He looked at her with eyes that the cat had in Alice in Wonderland, and Andi Foster knew with his look that he was in love her! He had to be in love with her, because right now everyone was!
“The best move I’ve ever made was hiring you, Andi Foster.” Mister Bolitar said to her, in a deep low Earl Jones drawl. He brought her out closer to the red ropes that separated her and the raging crowd, gesturing a hand out to all as if he were showcasing her to all of Paris.
“I bring you Paris, the best choreographer in the entire world, Andi Foster!”
Rainbow colored tears threatened the corners of Andi’s eyes as she stepped out into the center of everything. The lights were blinding, but it was all beautiful. She waved her hands up in the air, and waived laughing and crying at the same time.
“Andi!”
“Andi!”
The crowd chanted her name. Andi’s name never sounded so much like a rock ballad that would be sung ages from now.
Then, a scream of her name that wasn’t the same tone of anyone else’s sent a spine crushing chill down Andi’s bare back that sent her falling backward. It was a dark roar of a scream that echoed from behind her. The expressions and image of the crowd seemed to fade away into darkness.
Andi Foster felt the surge of power to reach out, move her body, get away, but her bones were moving in slow motion, like she was fighting against a thick layer of syrup. She felt cold, and the cloth of her dress withered away dissolving into her skin. She knew it was burning, but she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel anything.
Her mouth gapped open wide, sand pouring from her gums and she felt the dryness coating her throat, making her body clench and gag, longing to purge but only more sand came from her mouth. Andi Foster’s body was being consumed from the inside out in sand. She closed her eyes, holding her breath, wanting to escape her own body but she couldn’t. She knew it was happening but her mind wasn’t thinking. Once she opened her eyes, she realized that she was in glass. Sand was pouring down onto her.
Andi Foster was in an hourglass.
Time… Time was running out for her.
RING!
“Nah!”
Andi Foster shouted out gibberish, awakening from the loud phone ring. She shot up from her mattress, sweat beading down her face, her chest glazed in a layer of the perspiration. Her round eyes looked all around her, raking a hand through her still damp hair, and took a few deep breaths. Her hands fumbled at her sides, trying to snatch up her phone but she couldn’t find it!
No. This could be the call. How could she have let her phone out of her touch? She had been waiting for weeks! Andi Foster’s panting and panic re-attacked her.
RING!
“Wait!” Andi cried out, in such a frenzy that she actually thought she could befriend the cellular device and get it to her help her out. “Stop! Just, hold on!”
Andi Foster rolled over on her bare mattress that she only had one sheet on, and began digging all around her. It did not help that surrounding her bed were sheets of music, choreography notes, dirty clothes, clean clothes, and anything and everything she happened to be carrying in her studio apartment that she threw down. It was a system and it worked. Just, not right now.
She flung the papers behind her shoulders, leaping onto the piles like she was some lioness. Her bare skin turned into goose bumps, as she rolled around on her floor in nothing but a purple bra and white panties that were three sizes too big for her, but felt comfortable as all get out. She growled at herself, and mentally gave herself the ‘get your life together’ speech, but the motivation for that usually lasted- what, one hour until she ate that piece of chocolate, and that episode of Friends came on?
Andi plucked up a banana peel from the ground that she could only tell was such a thing from the one splotch of yellow hiding in the brown. But seriously, get your life together…
RING!
Wait, how many times does a phone ring? Three? Two? Four? Was that the third? Wasn’t this simple common sense? Andi Foster let out a screech, jumping onto her feet and doing a shake and a jump. Wouldn’t life be easier if problems could just be solved with a shake and a jump? Andi Foster growled against her teeth, her retainer still in so it, sortive’ made saliva spew everywhere which only added to her rage, and she began thrashing and mauling through tiny bedroom area.
She was told to do one thing- wait for the phone call, it would be coming in today. Andi’s superior from the show that had known Myron Bolitar had set it up and everything, and what did Andi Foster do? Fall the hell asleep! Andi hated sleep. She was the spokesperson against sleep, and the one moment it truly mattered- the one moment that her life could change for the better and all her dreams had the possibility of coming true, her eyes just… shut! The lights go out!
RING!
That was it. That was the final ring. It had a different tone to it. It had this wave of death come after it that made Andi’s stomach twirl and flip, and then her insides just sink to the bottom of the dark pit of her being. She had missed what could have been the phone call. She put a hand to her open mouth. Sure, she could just call back, but how unprofessional and so dumb did that look? People like Myron Bolitar could not be kept waiting. Andi Foster knew how this business worked.
Spinning back toward the bed, she felt herself almost wanting to rip her hairs out of her head when she saw her phone sitting on her nightstand. Like, right in plain sight, to be seen, getting charged in the regular place, right by her pillow. Could she be a little more of an idiot? Could someone just hit her in the head with a hammer now please?
Shooting to the phone, Andi plucked it up plopping onto her creaky mattress that just sat on the ground without a headboard because it was another aspect of her life that wasn’t fully together, and she flipped open her phone- something that most of the world didn’t have to do with all that great ol’ finger touching technology out there, and looked at her missed calls.
Missed Call: Daddio
Andi flipped down the phone, putting the phone against her forehead and falling back into a lying position of the bed. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The phone rang again and Andi Foster did not laugh or cry. Her entire being wouldn’t be able to produce either of those emotions since her entire world stopped. The phone number was out of this world with a combo that was not American. It was him.
Slowly rising up from the bed, Andi took deep breaths attempting to center herself in seconds. She flattened her underwear out, fixing up her hair to be behind her ears as if she could make herself look presentable and it would matter. Her mind was blank and she felt like she wasn’t really living but dreaming.
Flipping open the phone she placed it on her ear, shutting her eyes tight and scrunching up her sheet with her free hand. Then, a velvet voice escaped from her that Andi Foster rarely used.
“Hello?”
Then a voice spoke that Andi had been waiting for weeks to hear. A voice that she had hoped would get her out of this studio dump. A voice that could maybe be her one chance.
“Yes, this is Myron Bolitar. I’m hoping to speak to an Andi Foster. Know where I could find one?”
The voice was smooth, relaxed, and it made Andi’s knees feel fuzzy and her cheeks feel hot. She couldn’t help but laugh. She hit herself in the head to make herself stop.
“I-I’m here!” She caught herself ,shaking her head. Andi Foster was not too pro at this articulating, was she? “I mean, this is she. I’m.. Andi Foster.”
“Well then, lets talk business shall we Ms. Foster?”
a snippet of it.
doing feel like editing in italics.
just trying to get the muse warmed up / not that great.
The sea of eyes gleamed at her direction, the beaming expressions lighting up her way down the crimson red carpet. The blinking camera flashes hit against her face that shined right into her insides, boiling a power inside that she had never felt.
Andi Foster was finally feeling what it was like to be on top.
“Over here, Mademoiselle Foster!”
“Tell us what inspires you!”
“Show me that beautiful smile, Andi!”
Andi Foster gushed in the bright lights, her body tight sea green dress flowing behind her, as she made her way toward the Moulin Rouge. She waved at a few cameras, winking a couple times to give a few flirtatious pictures because she was feeling confident. Something inside of her knew she was number one, and all of Paris knew it too. In fact, looking out, Andi realized that Paris in it’s entirety was now gazing at her with awestruck faces. Andi was a goddess of dance and a goddess of Paris.
“You have done it, Andi!” Santa Clause cried out from behind her, wrapping a large claw around her bare shoulder, and smiling toothy at the nearby paparazzi.
Andi Foster did not know what Santa was doing with an arm wrapped around her, but she loved Santa Clause, and she loved this moment. She relished in the photograph with Santa. Santa believed in her, and what an honor!
Her red curls bouncing against her collar bones, she felt a force pulling her away from Santa, and a tight grip slither around her waist- that was extra tiny and fit tonight. Gasping ever so Marilyn Monroe like, she looked up to see Mister Bolitar, grinning out into the crowd, and waving a hand. It was Myron Bolitar, the Moulin Rouge owner, right beside her, holding her as if she were his own. He was even more handsome than she had imagined in pictures. Andi Foster’s mind was reeling, but apart of her thought this casual.
“Smile, kid, you’re the next big thing.”
His voice was James Earl Jones which made him all the more enchanting. He looked at her with eyes that the cat had in Alice in Wonderland, and Andi Foster knew with his look that he was in love her! He had to be in love with her, because right now everyone was!
“The best move I’ve ever made was hiring you, Andi Foster.” Mister Bolitar said to her, in a deep low Earl Jones drawl. He brought her out closer to the red ropes that separated her and the raging crowd, gesturing a hand out to all as if he were showcasing her to all of Paris.
“I bring you Paris, the best choreographer in the entire world, Andi Foster!”
Rainbow colored tears threatened the corners of Andi’s eyes as she stepped out into the center of everything. The lights were blinding, but it was all beautiful. She waved her hands up in the air, and waived laughing and crying at the same time.
“Andi!”
“Andi!”
The crowd chanted her name. Andi’s name never sounded so much like a rock ballad that would be sung ages from now.
Then, a scream of her name that wasn’t the same tone of anyone else’s sent a spine crushing chill down Andi’s bare back that sent her falling backward. It was a dark roar of a scream that echoed from behind her. The expressions and image of the crowd seemed to fade away into darkness.
Andi Foster felt the surge of power to reach out, move her body, get away, but her bones were moving in slow motion, like she was fighting against a thick layer of syrup. She felt cold, and the cloth of her dress withered away dissolving into her skin. She knew it was burning, but she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel anything.
Her mouth gapped open wide, sand pouring from her gums and she felt the dryness coating her throat, making her body clench and gag, longing to purge but only more sand came from her mouth. Andi Foster’s body was being consumed from the inside out in sand. She closed her eyes, holding her breath, wanting to escape her own body but she couldn’t. She knew it was happening but her mind wasn’t thinking. Once she opened her eyes, she realized that she was in glass. Sand was pouring down onto her.
Andi Foster was in an hourglass.
Time… Time was running out for her.
RING!
“Nah!”
Andi Foster shouted out gibberish, awakening from the loud phone ring. She shot up from her mattress, sweat beading down her face, her chest glazed in a layer of the perspiration. Her round eyes looked all around her, raking a hand through her still damp hair, and took a few deep breaths. Her hands fumbled at her sides, trying to snatch up her phone but she couldn’t find it!
No. This could be the call. How could she have let her phone out of her touch? She had been waiting for weeks! Andi Foster’s panting and panic re-attacked her.
RING!
“Wait!” Andi cried out, in such a frenzy that she actually thought she could befriend the cellular device and get it to her help her out. “Stop! Just, hold on!”
Andi Foster rolled over on her bare mattress that she only had one sheet on, and began digging all around her. It did not help that surrounding her bed were sheets of music, choreography notes, dirty clothes, clean clothes, and anything and everything she happened to be carrying in her studio apartment that she threw down. It was a system and it worked. Just, not right now.
She flung the papers behind her shoulders, leaping onto the piles like she was some lioness. Her bare skin turned into goose bumps, as she rolled around on her floor in nothing but a purple bra and white panties that were three sizes too big for her, but felt comfortable as all get out. She growled at herself, and mentally gave herself the ‘get your life together’ speech, but the motivation for that usually lasted- what, one hour until she ate that piece of chocolate, and that episode of Friends came on?
Andi plucked up a banana peel from the ground that she could only tell was such a thing from the one splotch of yellow hiding in the brown. But seriously, get your life together…
RING!
Wait, how many times does a phone ring? Three? Two? Four? Was that the third? Wasn’t this simple common sense? Andi Foster let out a screech, jumping onto her feet and doing a shake and a jump. Wouldn’t life be easier if problems could just be solved with a shake and a jump? Andi Foster growled against her teeth, her retainer still in so it, sortive’ made saliva spew everywhere which only added to her rage, and she began thrashing and mauling through tiny bedroom area.
She was told to do one thing- wait for the phone call, it would be coming in today. Andi’s superior from the show that had known Myron Bolitar had set it up and everything, and what did Andi Foster do? Fall the hell asleep! Andi hated sleep. She was the spokesperson against sleep, and the one moment it truly mattered- the one moment that her life could change for the better and all her dreams had the possibility of coming true, her eyes just… shut! The lights go out!
RING!
That was it. That was the final ring. It had a different tone to it. It had this wave of death come after it that made Andi’s stomach twirl and flip, and then her insides just sink to the bottom of the dark pit of her being. She had missed what could have been the phone call. She put a hand to her open mouth. Sure, she could just call back, but how unprofessional and so dumb did that look? People like Myron Bolitar could not be kept waiting. Andi Foster knew how this business worked.
Spinning back toward the bed, she felt herself almost wanting to rip her hairs out of her head when she saw her phone sitting on her nightstand. Like, right in plain sight, to be seen, getting charged in the regular place, right by her pillow. Could she be a little more of an idiot? Could someone just hit her in the head with a hammer now please?
Shooting to the phone, Andi plucked it up plopping onto her creaky mattress that just sat on the ground without a headboard because it was another aspect of her life that wasn’t fully together, and she flipped open her phone- something that most of the world didn’t have to do with all that great ol’ finger touching technology out there, and looked at her missed calls.
Missed Call: Daddio
Andi flipped down the phone, putting the phone against her forehead and falling back into a lying position of the bed. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The phone rang again and Andi Foster did not laugh or cry. Her entire being wouldn’t be able to produce either of those emotions since her entire world stopped. The phone number was out of this world with a combo that was not American. It was him.
Slowly rising up from the bed, Andi took deep breaths attempting to center herself in seconds. She flattened her underwear out, fixing up her hair to be behind her ears as if she could make herself look presentable and it would matter. Her mind was blank and she felt like she wasn’t really living but dreaming.
Flipping open the phone she placed it on her ear, shutting her eyes tight and scrunching up her sheet with her free hand. Then, a velvet voice escaped from her that Andi Foster rarely used.
“Hello?”
Then a voice spoke that Andi had been waiting for weeks to hear. A voice that she had hoped would get her out of this studio dump. A voice that could maybe be her one chance.
“Yes, this is Myron Bolitar. I’m hoping to speak to an Andi Foster. Know where I could find one?”
The voice was smooth, relaxed, and it made Andi’s knees feel fuzzy and her cheeks feel hot. She couldn’t help but laugh. She hit herself in the head to make herself stop.
“I-I’m here!” She caught herself ,shaking her head. Andi Foster was not too pro at this articulating, was she? “I mean, this is she. I’m.. Andi Foster.”
“Well then, lets talk business shall we Ms. Foster?”
