Gently letting go of that which isn't meant for you
I don't believe in love at first sight.
But then, I don't believe in One True Love either. Maybe it's best to believe that there a several kinds of love.
And some just happen to entrap you quickly.
"This is the Meet and Greet isn't it? Hi, I'm Hassam, let's meet."
From the moment Hassam opens his mouth, I can't help but smirk. He strolled straight over past the dancers swooning over him, past the committee members whispering about him, straight to the ones oblivious of his presence.
"I'm Annika- nice to meet you."
Hassam seems to have an eye for detail (something I'm to become more aware of over our few short days together) and quickly hassles me about my uncovered toe nails peeking out from underneath my dress - 9 unpainted, one bright green.
"What are you going to do before the show tomorrow?" he enquired with a smirk on his own lips, "Paint 9 more or take one off? What's less effort?"
Maybe it's the toe nails. Maybe it's the shared sarcasm. I don't really know what did it, but Hassam took a liking to me quickly. A baby in creative terms compared to his knowledge and art, and a baby in the fact that I am 22 years his junior. And yet, he prefers me.
***
Hassam sits off to the side as he and his new acquaintances shuffle into the room. A performance was to kick the weekend off, and he's surprised to see Annika's face on the screen. He's underwhelmed by her audition video. No technique, basic movements. Another no hoper, it seems. At least she's cute.
And then someone announces her onto the stage.
Hassam smirks as the familiar crackle of Tom Wait's voice comes over the sound system and Annika's body comes into view. An older woman next to him scowls and looks away for the the entire performance. Hassam's area is Arabic music and dance, so the women next to him assure they're in good company with their distaste. They don't realise a young Hassam wanted to be the Egyptian version of Phil Rudd (long before everything went down with Phil Rudd, of course).
He gestures towards Annika halfway through the performance and remarks to the committee member next to him, "See? She knows how to get down to it."
He pretends not to notice the older woman screwing up her nose.
***
À suivre.
But then, I don't believe in One True Love either. Maybe it's best to believe that there a several kinds of love.
And some just happen to entrap you quickly.
"This is the Meet and Greet isn't it? Hi, I'm Hassam, let's meet."
From the moment Hassam opens his mouth, I can't help but smirk. He strolled straight over past the dancers swooning over him, past the committee members whispering about him, straight to the ones oblivious of his presence.
"I'm Annika- nice to meet you."
Hassam seems to have an eye for detail (something I'm to become more aware of over our few short days together) and quickly hassles me about my uncovered toe nails peeking out from underneath my dress - 9 unpainted, one bright green.
"What are you going to do before the show tomorrow?" he enquired with a smirk on his own lips, "Paint 9 more or take one off? What's less effort?"
Maybe it's the toe nails. Maybe it's the shared sarcasm. I don't really know what did it, but Hassam took a liking to me quickly. A baby in creative terms compared to his knowledge and art, and a baby in the fact that I am 22 years his junior. And yet, he prefers me.
***
Hassam sits off to the side as he and his new acquaintances shuffle into the room. A performance was to kick the weekend off, and he's surprised to see Annika's face on the screen. He's underwhelmed by her audition video. No technique, basic movements. Another no hoper, it seems. At least she's cute.
And then someone announces her onto the stage.
Hassam smirks as the familiar crackle of Tom Wait's voice comes over the sound system and Annika's body comes into view. An older woman next to him scowls and looks away for the the entire performance. Hassam's area is Arabic music and dance, so the women next to him assure they're in good company with their distaste. They don't realise a young Hassam wanted to be the Egyptian version of Phil Rudd (long before everything went down with Phil Rudd, of course).
He gestures towards Annika halfway through the performance and remarks to the committee member next to him, "See? She knows how to get down to it."
He pretends not to notice the older woman screwing up her nose.
***
À suivre.
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