World's End Dancehall Mga Nobela at Kwento

But I wasn’t about to wait for this cesspool of a show to dictate my steps any longer. I pushed open the iron door to the rooftop, pulling out the portable speaker I had prepared in advance. Setting up my phone, I opened my live-streaming app. "Hello, everyone," I began, my voice steady as rain drizzled around me. "I’m Victoria Dean. I apologize for meeting you all under these circumstances. “But as a dancer, I want to show you that the most powerful performances don’t need elaborate embellishments. This dance has a real name. It’s called, the Unyielding Rose in the Rain.”

I was fucking staying. "What made you changed your mind?" "Someone is here who shouldn't be." Before he could say anything, I silenced him with my hand. "You'll figure it out. Let's go." As we were ready to walk off, a loud commotion could be heard. Alot of shouting, clapping and wolf whistles could be heard. Fuck. I walked away left Chazz in the parking lot of the beach, and back on the sand. There were two girls dancing on the stage and gyrating to the beat of the music. The guys were going crazy just being hypnotized by the movement of their hips as they slowly rotated it, dancing to the rhythmic music of Drake's Controlla featuring Popcaan.

"Yeah, but your stuff is still here. Your mother's belongings are still in the house. You're just going to leave them behind?" My heart tightened. I hadn't expected him to use that against me. He snorted, "Don't make me ask again. I've already sent you the address." When I arrived at the private room at the bar, they had already drunk well past the third round. Outside the door, I overheard someone ask Terence, "Is it really over? Aren't you at all upset?"

She was beaming, her eyes full of dreams for the future. "Let's have a destination wedding, alright? We'll get married in Southpoint, then have another ceremony in Eastwind. I heard the Lumians are very romantic, too… What about having another ceremony in the Lumian capital of Lumiere? I want to wear lots and lots of beautiful wedding dresses and take all kinds of wedding photos, fill up a whole wall with them…" Zach just looked at her, his eyes emotionless. "Annie's dead."

Quin Mackenzie apologised. The world was coming to an end.

Seize this lunatic now! But his first concern was Angela. He shot me a vicious glare. "Come at me if you've got a problem!" I smirked as I admired the matching handprints on their faces. I still had it. It was no wonder I was the queen of the tennis court back then! Some of the more sensationalist media started livestreaming the drama. "Mega scandal! Will the elite scion of Jebony choose his youthful first love, or the wife who stuck by him through thick and thin?"

"I'm so excited. My brother told me you're the best in Abuja. He said you used to dance in Lagos. He said you were famous. I've been so worried about the first dance—I don't want to step on my husband's feet. I'm a terrible dancer, really. Everyone says so. I have two left feet. I'm completely hopeless." Zara blinked. She had not expected this. This girl was nothing like Dante. She was sunshine and light and complete, joyful chaos. "I'm sure you're not hopeless," Zara said carefully. "Everyone has rhythm. It's just a matter of finding it." "See?" Amara turned to Dante, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching them. "I told you she'd be nice. Most people are so mean about my dancing."

“You’re right, it’s a bar. So why do you want to still go there? I don’t want to enter that kind of place now, so let’s just go home. I am not in the mood to go inside a bar. You know me, Jaira. I have separate time when I’m studying and want to have some fun.” “Pleaseee? I really want to see what their bar looks like. We will just take a glance of it.” I sighed and just let her. She won’t stop forcing me, so I just let her do what she wants. We went upstairs and the guards there checked our IDs first, to see if we’re already adult or not. Fortunately, I have an ID in my wallet. After checking, we went inside the bar. The lights are dimmed and there’s a band singing in the middle. So, I’m ri

I say, giggling like an idiot. The music playing at the dance hall changes to Despacito by Luis Fonsi, Daddy Yankee and Justin Bieber. “This is my song!” I take hold of Ken’s hand and drag him with me towards the crowd of people dancing in the hall. I stumble a few steps, but I balance myself and not fall face-first to the floor. “I like this version of you, Jaclyn. Where has it been all this while?” “In a bottle of whiskey.” He places his hands on my waist and together we sway to the music playing, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I throw caution to the wind. I’ve been a terrible dancer from the get-go, but I do my best to not disgrace myself on the dance floor.

I jump out of the elevator straight to the bar. I don't waste time as I ask the bartender for a drink. “Can I have a bottle of the most expensive wine you have got?” The Bartender walks back to the shelf. But before I take a seat. My jam is on. Sean Paul’s new reggae dancehall. The beat coming from the club is extraordinary, mesmerizing, and making a calling for me. I forget all about my request to the bartender. And The next thing I know, I am trotting like a teenager into the club.