Chapter dedication: TemitopeOwolabi9 I've always wanted to acknowledge you dear. I see your votes and your comments. Thank you >3
Song of the chapter: Head under water — LVLY
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We all have our demons, they never disappear.
—𝓛𝓥𝓛𝓨
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"The normal duration for shooting a music video takes up to ten hours, more or less. It actually depends on the resources and personnels that would be on ground. Sho get?" Mr French pauses to ask me when he notices I have been staring at him strangely.
I don't know which is more amusing. The fact that the so-called dance instructor designated to give me a little prep on my role is a foreigner, or the fact that his name is totally absurd; Mr French. Or better still, the fact that he doesn't have a single foreign accent flowing from his tounge. Seems like he has lived in Nigeria his whole life.
"Cause it seems like a thousand and one questions are swarming that head of yours." He states with a faint smile, flexing his fingers before resting them on his hips.
Of course I have so many questions to ask. And I've come to realise that the more I ask questions, the more it leaves me confused and having much more mysteries to unravel.
"Why is your name Mr French?" I blurt out, and when I mean blurt out, it comes out so random because the thing sounds so weird to begin with. And the fact that I am comfortable with Mr French presence is something I commend myself for. If it was the old Aramide, I'd have resisted being with the male gender that close.
"Out of topic, I see." He mumbles and draws his stool a little bit closer to mine, not too close enough though.
"As you can see, I'm an Italian freelance dance instructor based in Nigeria of course. I've been living here for the past six years of my career and well, let's just say I actually do not remember where that name came from. My actual name is Dante Romero though." He scratches his nape in an unsure manner, wondering if his information was useful to me a bit.
"Mr Dante Romero! I actually prefer Dante. Why the hell would they call you Mr French when you are not affiliated with anything concerning French at all?" I ask bemusedly.
"Maybe, my skin colour?" He shrugs with a wink. I chuckle lightly at his dramatic response.
"Anyways apart from knowing Mr French, what else do you need clarification on?" He switches back to his serious face in splits of seconds, crossing his arms over his sculptured chest.
What to ask...
What to ask...
What can I ask now?
And as if a great lightbulb idea sparks in my head, I click my fingers into the air as a sign that I remembered something important.
"Mr French, you're a professional dance instructor right?" He nods in positive affirmation steadily, not knowing where my question is heading to. "Okay, so why do you think I can do this role for the mystery girl? I mean, I didn't even do a trial dance. You've not see me perform in action, neither do you know how good I am. Don't you think I'm going to mess this up?"
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Shattered Heartstrings
Teen Fiction⭐FEATURED: AmbassadorNG and won under the Teen fiction/Young Adult African Awards 2020. 𝘽𝙇𝙐𝙍𝘽 When her mother attempts to murder her, Ara is adopted by her extended family and tossed into a life she never asked for. Dining with the rich and...
