Taking A Final Stand

Chantal LeBlanc, a 14 year-old from Toulouse, France, has been bullied all of her life. She's finally had enough. She's changed schools, MJCs (a program for French students who are interested in extracurricular), and towns, just to get away, but it's no use. She's decided to move to London, England, where her pen pal, Niall Horan, lives. Niall's heard about her amazing musical talents, but now, he gets to see it for himself, as she has to audition, in order to enroll in a performing arts school; the exact same performing arts school that Niall attends. Will she rise above and beyond the obstacles that lay ahead? Or will she fall so hard, she can't see the light , at the end of the tunnel?


14. Audition Day

"Chantal, hurry up!" Liam calls up from downstairs, as I put on my dress.

"Hold on a second, Liam! I'm almost ready." I zipper my dress, put on my makeup, and slip into my heels. Today is the day I've been waiting for. My audition day. I speed downstairs, trying not to hurt myself, and rush to where the boys are. 

"Chantal, you look amazing." Niall replies. I blush.

"Thanks Niall." I reach out my hand, and smile, as his fingers slip into the crevices between mine. I see the twinkle in his eyes grow brighter.

"We ready, lovebirds?" Louis asks. "We don't want to be late." I smile.

"Let's do this!" I answer, and off we go to the audition. On the way there, my phone goes off. I look at the caller ID. Jean-Luc. I pick up.

" Bonjour, Jean-Luc! Comment-ça va?"

"Très bien," he replies. "Et toi?" 

"Bien. Je suis aller au Lycée de les éducation musicales."

"Ah, très bien, Chantal.  Ou est au Lycée?"

"C'est a London."

"Oh. C'est très loin." 

"Oui, mais c'est un bon école!" 

"Ah, très bien." I can tell, by the way he's speaking, he misses me. He was my only friend.

"Tu me manques, Jean-Luc."

"Tu me manques aussi, Chantal. Je suppose je dois parler avec toi." 

"Quel que c'est, Jean-Luc?"

"Chantal," he takes a deep breath. "Je pense je t'aime."

"Jean-Luc, tu es très sympa, mais je pense nous sommes bien des amis. J'ai un ami de garçon, maintenant. Je suis désole."

"C'est ça. Ecoutez, je dois étudier pour la classe l'anglais. Je suppose je suis parler avec toi, après l’école?"  

"Oui, c'est ça. A bientôt, Jean-Luc. Tu me manques!" 

"Tu me manques aussi, Chantal. A plus tard!" I hang up the phone, only to find two things. We have reached the school, and Niall's staring at me, both enchanted and concerned. 

"Who's Jean-Luc?" He asks.

"A friend from Toulouse." I repy. "He called, trying to tell me he liked me, but I told him I was taken, so he backed off."

"Oh." He replies, smiling."You have a beautiful accent, Chantal." I blush.

"Thanks Niall. You do, too."

"Are you ready for your audition?" He asks. I take a deep breath.

"As ready as I can be." I answer. He takes my hand, and walks me to the stage. Just the mere beauty of the room is so inquisitive, it sets me into a state of astonishment. In the front, by the stage, are the producers, and the Dean of Admission. Behind them is the current senior class (about 500 people, at the least), along with everyone else who is auditioning. Niall directs me backstage.

"You're next, Chantal." He replies. "Remember what I told you. Be yourself, and perform like nobody's around." I smile, and take a deep breath. 

"I will." I give him a kiss on the cheek, as the rest of the boys come backstage.

"You ready, Chantal?" Zayn asks.

"I'm ready!" I reply, determined to make this the best moment of my life. I give each one of them a hug, when, suddenly, we hear:

Chantal LeBlanc, please report onstage.



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