Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
The Art Of Love ~ Rewritten
2 reviewsRe-Write 1995- New York, The School of Visual Arts gets a new student.
5Original
I took a deep breath, glance in the mirror at my too pale completion and badly straightened black hair, taking a deep breath I smoothed out my top and picked up my bag, walking straight past the pile of pancakes my mum had made me, I was far too nervous to eat. Today was my first day of Art College, more importantly the New York School Of Visual Arts, or SVA. I'll admit I was scared shitless, and walking into a cage full of hungry lions seemed less scary, and less dangerous. When I moved from England a few years ago I left nothing behind, I was a loner. No one noticed when I left. When I started high school, halfway through the year, halfway through high school, I blended in instantly, literally to the walls, no one noticed me. I don’t want to be all boo-fucking-who but I was invisible. I don’t really mind.
I actually quite like being alone. I’ve got so used to it that when people actually talk to me I become socially awkward and panic. All my hobbies are... unsociable: Sitting in my room listening to music, reading comics, alone in my room, playing my bass, badly, alone in my room. Being alone is better than being hurt by two faced idiots. As I made my way to the door of the small house in Queens that my mum rented I spotted a note on the counter ‘Money for the Subway, have fun at school Princess! Mummy xox’ next to it were some green notes and small silver coins, I still didn’t properly understand the money system out here, I still called them Pounds and Pence, not Dollars and Cents.
It was a short walk from my house to the nearest subway station, outside a man was busking, I threw a few shiny coins in his guitar case and he shouted, “Thanks Love!” in a very British accent, I giggled, as I ran to my train I thought of karma, and hoped that seeing as I did a good deed, the world would be on my side, and that my first day at college wouldn’t be so bad. The fact the busker was British reminded me of London, the buskers, the music, the sights and sounds. I really missed London, even though I had always wanted to move to America, we were a whole family there, there was no divorce, and there was no new step-‘mom’. Or step sisters who I’d never met. I ran onto the next train, angered, I shoved my headphones into my ears and sighed as they blared out Iron Maiden. The train started to move, I quickly shoved my hand into my bag to check I had remembered all my needed art stuff, I had. My first lucky Karma of the day, it was just like me to be forgetful, not today though.
Soon my stop arrived; I sighed and stepped onto the platform, amazed as always by the hustle and bustle of the small platform. I made my way out of the subway and up the steps. I looked up at the large brick orange and cream building towering over me. Thousands of students hurried passed, making their way to classes as the large bell rang. ‘Well, this is it.’ I thought to myself as I struggled my way through the students to the main reception. I glanced around, taking in all the faces, trying to remember where things were. I walked past the Fine arts building, where I would the having a lesson soon, I glanced and watched as the back of a head, with raven black hair, slipped inside. I found reception and went to go get my time table.
A/N: any chance of an Rate and a Review? :)
Lu
I actually quite like being alone. I’ve got so used to it that when people actually talk to me I become socially awkward and panic. All my hobbies are... unsociable: Sitting in my room listening to music, reading comics, alone in my room, playing my bass, badly, alone in my room. Being alone is better than being hurt by two faced idiots. As I made my way to the door of the small house in Queens that my mum rented I spotted a note on the counter ‘Money for the Subway, have fun at school Princess! Mummy xox’ next to it were some green notes and small silver coins, I still didn’t properly understand the money system out here, I still called them Pounds and Pence, not Dollars and Cents.
It was a short walk from my house to the nearest subway station, outside a man was busking, I threw a few shiny coins in his guitar case and he shouted, “Thanks Love!” in a very British accent, I giggled, as I ran to my train I thought of karma, and hoped that seeing as I did a good deed, the world would be on my side, and that my first day at college wouldn’t be so bad. The fact the busker was British reminded me of London, the buskers, the music, the sights and sounds. I really missed London, even though I had always wanted to move to America, we were a whole family there, there was no divorce, and there was no new step-‘mom’. Or step sisters who I’d never met. I ran onto the next train, angered, I shoved my headphones into my ears and sighed as they blared out Iron Maiden. The train started to move, I quickly shoved my hand into my bag to check I had remembered all my needed art stuff, I had. My first lucky Karma of the day, it was just like me to be forgetful, not today though.
Soon my stop arrived; I sighed and stepped onto the platform, amazed as always by the hustle and bustle of the small platform. I made my way out of the subway and up the steps. I looked up at the large brick orange and cream building towering over me. Thousands of students hurried passed, making their way to classes as the large bell rang. ‘Well, this is it.’ I thought to myself as I struggled my way through the students to the main reception. I glanced around, taking in all the faces, trying to remember where things were. I walked past the Fine arts building, where I would the having a lesson soon, I glanced and watched as the back of a head, with raven black hair, slipped inside. I found reception and went to go get my time table.
A/N: any chance of an Rate and a Review? :)
Lu
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