[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180923/c87b790bd0ccfae93b3d87edbd850570.png[/img]

[color=#F8D740]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/l3mZ6M2uxbDX6Tb5m/giphy.gif[/img]

[color=#F8D740]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/center][color=#F1EDEB]
[indent][indent]
When Aulora Wise woke up that Wednesday morning, her limbs felt strong, and her muscles no longer felt rusty as they had the first time she'd started dancing at Silvervale University; they felt clean and ready. There was a residue of feeling right. See, most people would complain that the morning after they partake in strenuous body conditioning and hour long dance rehearsals, they feel like lead. But the mornings after Aulora dances, she feels like quick-silver; she feels [i]alive[/i]. Throughout her entire life, dance was the one thing that kept her going; it was what kept her sane. There was simply something therapeutic about the sound of her tap shoes clicking across the hardwood floor or the slight burn she felt in her quadricep muscles when she did an arabesque on pointe. Throughout these last few months that she has spent in the small town of Silvervale, New Orleans after leaving her beloved New York City behind, dance often seemed to be one of the only glints of light in her lopsided life.

Every weekday was the same for Aulora: her cell phone alarm would wake her up at precisely seven o'clock, prompting her to quickly slide out of bed, take a shower, throw on a clean outfit, and shove whatever she needed for class into her over-sized purse. She'd then go on to spend the first portion of her day down at the university; if she wasn't in class, then she was helping set up or practicing for the school's upcoming production of Tinker Town. Hours would go by before Aulora would begin her walk back to the apartment complex, and even then she would only have a little over an hour to herself before she'd have to change clothes once more and head to a small cafe in the mall for work. 

Waiting tables wasn't too hard of a task for someone like Aulora; she had the multitasking and people skills necessary to earn just enough tips to keep her bills paid. Sure, it wasn't her dream job, but neither was the burlesque dancing gig she had held on to for four years before moving down South; but she always reminded herself before clocking in that all of this was just [i]temporary[/i]. [color=#F8D740]"You'll be out of school and performing on Broadway before you know it,"[/color] she'd tell herself as she stood, peering into the bathroom mirror. 

[color=#F8D740]"This is just a little pit stop on your journey to the stars..."[/color]

[center][color=#F8D740]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/center]
It wasn't uncommon to find Aulora Wise cooped up in her bedroom after coming home from work. If you just so happened to be the poor soul who was unfortunate enough to live in the room directly beneath hers, you'd eventually grow tired of the [i]tippity-tap[/i] of her dance shoes against the wooden floors. You'd probably bang on your ceiling, yelling at Aulora to cut it out; but chances are, she probably wouldn't hear your protests over the music that blared through her mounted speaker. Dancing was Aulora's life, which meant that it was all she did whenever she had free time. In fact, the only reason she decided to end that night's session off earlier than normal was because of something she'd noticed on the bulletin board a couple of days before. 

Of course, Aulora made sure it was known that she'd be attending. There was no way she'd pass up a good party, even if it was just a small one that would be held on the rooftop. After tossing her tap shoes into her closet, Aulora hopped into the shower once more. By the time eight o'clock rolled around, she had just finished touching up the makeup that she'd nearly sweated off during her tap dance practice. Once she was sure that everything was in its rightful place and condition, the young woman grabbed an unopened bottle of liquor from one of the kitchen cabinets and made her way up to the rooftop. [color=#F8D740]"I brought some more [i]booooze[/i]!"[/color] Aulora announced in a sing-song voice to the small group, holding up the bottle as she made her way towards the nearest table. Setting the bottle down, she looked up at the rest of the tenants with a smile before adding, [color=#F8D740]"My mom used to always tell me to not show up to a party empty-handed; 'Southern Hospitality' or something like that, even though we're not even from down here..."[/color]

Aulora's voice trailed off as she took a quick glance around the rooftop area. Unsurprisingly, her eyes almost instantly landed upon the karaoke machine that Bert was beginning to set up. Standing not too far away from the older man also happened to be none other than Ritz Gang. With a wide grin on her face, Aulora quickly made her way over to the pair, gently nudging Ritz in his arm once she did. [color=#F8D740]"Now, you already know we gotta be the first ones to try out this karaoke machine, right?"[/color]
[/indent][/indent]
[center][color=#F8D740]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/center]

[sub]Interacting with: Ritz Gang [@rougeLily][/sub]
[/color]