Andre's Showcase. Kimberly Wyatt
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First published in Great Britain 2017
by Egmont UK Limited
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN
Text copyright © 2017 Beautiful Movements Ltd
Cover illustration copyright © 2017 Beautiful Movements Ltd
Written in collaboration with Siobhan Curham
The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted
First e-book edition 2017
ISBN 978 1 4052 8719 7
Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1794 6
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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Dedicated to LaLa Land and the
choreographers that inspired me to believe in me:
Kennis Marquis, Marguerite Derricks, Robin Antin,
Mikey Minden and Brian Friedman.
Also available in the WEDA series:
Billie’s Big Audition
Tilly’s Time to Shine
CONTENTS
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Your Vibe Attracts Your Tribe
Andre stared hard at his phone and began praying to the God of Blogpost Likes (he wasn’t exactly sure there was a God of Blogpost Likes but he was desperate): Please, please, please, make more people like my post.
‘Here you go, sweetie – spiralized courgettes, with a tofu Bolognese sauce, topped with grated vegan cheese.’
As Miss Murphy placed Andre’s lunch on the table in front of him he glanced up from his phone. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Tofu Bolognese was one of Andre’s favourite meals since he’d become vegan but today he couldn’t think about the delicious tomato sauce or the way the courgette spaghetti melted in his mouth – nothing could tear his focus from his phone. He looked back at the screen and refreshed the page. His latest post on his fashion blog Spotted still hadn’t got any more likes since the initial five. Why hadn’t it got any more likes? What had he done wrong?
‘Is everything OK, my darling?’ Miss Murphy sat down at the table opposite him.
‘What?’ Andre studied the blog post. Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen to do a post called ‘How to Rock a Pair of Harem Pants’. Maybe it was too niche. Or was it the photos he and Tilly had picked? Maybe they weren’t striking enough. He’d read somewhere that fashion blogging was all about the images, that it didn’t matter how good the writing was – if the image sucked, no one would bother reading it. ‘It’s so cray cray!’ He sighed.
‘Are you all right?’ Miss Murphy repeated.
‘Yes,’ Andre replied, although this was far from true. If his number of likes was dropping then it wouldn’t be long before his number of subscribers would too. He was supposed to be building a fashion blog, not running it down.
‘Well, put the phone away and let’s eat,’ Miss Murphy said. ‘Remember what I said about family time.’
Last week, when Andre had been checking his Instagram likes at the dinner table, his mum had given him a lecture about their Sunday lunches being special. ‘It’s our only quality time together during the school term,’ she’d told him. ‘I don’t want to be spending it with your phone too.’
Andre knew she had a point. With Miss Murphy’s role as Head of Dance and Wellness at the World Elite Dance Academy and Andre being so busy as a student there, plus all his commitments to his street dance crew, Il Bello, and to his fashion blog, they didn’t get much time to hang out as mother and son. But what could he do? How else was he going to get the life of his dreams as a super-successful fashion blogger and dancer unless he put the time and work in? As a former world-famous ballerina his mum should have understood this more than anyone. He refreshed the blog page on his phone one more time.
‘Andre, we set a strict no-phone rule for this time for the two of us. Get off your phone, honey,’ Miss Murphy pleaded.
But Andre could hardly hear his mum he was so far down the wormhole of his online world. ‘WHAT, no way!’ Andre’s heart sank. The number of subscribers to Spotted had gone down by two. When? How? Why?
‘Andre, put down the phone!’ Miss Murphy’s softer mum-voice had morphed into her far