Snippet #2823067

If there was one word to describe how she was feeling presently, it would be sick of this shit. Except that was four words, and Eloise was far too done with this day to care to fix it. Word counts are for essays, not life. If she treated everything she did like a college course and its homework, she would be like the miserable students who couldn't step out of the library until they were forced to at close, and then only kept studying back at their dorm. I mean, god, would it kill them to live a little?

Of course, essays and classmates with no lives weren't her main concern right now. Oh no, they were far from her mind, but passing her music class and keeping her scholarship were very much at the forefront. It wasn't as if she had tried out for the solo part of the spring festival, in fact she hadn't even tried out at all. But of course her music professor had approached her, mentioned the festival and before she could even object, there it was. "Miss Grace, I'd love to see you perform solo again. If you don't, you'll take a hard hit to your grade." Why thank you, Mrs. Barnes. That had been just what she'd wanted to hear, and exactly how she'd wanted to spend a free night. Goodbye, Netflix and instant ramen. Goodbye, going out with her friends to band practice. Hello, practicing the instrument she hated so much even more than she already forced herself to.

She was lucky she had no roommates, truly. They would have had to be subject to her angry, begrudging playing, and no one liked to hear that. Not even her own parents, who insisted that they loved to hear her play no matter what. Apparently, the sound of musical venting was not so nice to the ears of the listeners.

For as much as she hated this, she pushed through, because a "hard hit" meant failing her class in no short words. She didn't need her professor to sugarcoat it, she may as well have said, "do this or die," and Eloise would have felt exactly the same as she did now. But the woman's horrid treatment of her ever so faithful student didn't end there. Oh no, it went further. As if she couldn't be anymore humiliated by the prospect of having to attend a goddamn renaissance fair, she was told that part of her grade was presentation and participation. Oh but don't worry, the kind professor told her, she would provide the material necessary for those parts, it wouldn't cost Eloise a dime.

And so she found herself standing, staring at the horrid dress that she would have never been caught dead in if she had free will and choice. Staring at the thing that she was supposed to be wearing in just a week's time had made Eloise nearly lose her lunch all over the thing, and she would be lying if she said she didn't cry on her walk home after leaving her professor's office. Sure, it wasn't hideous by normal standards, and maybe dressing up like a little princess on the way to a ball was fun and appealing for some, but for her? Absolutely not. She wasn't some pretty dress-up barbie, she wasn't a little fairy princess, and she wasn't a renaissance fair goer, but in an instant the cruelties of university shove those things down her throat, and she was left with no choice.

When the day did finally arrive, she had nothing but a migraine and sour mood. Packing up the violin in its case, somehow managing to get herself into the dress that had hung in her closet since two days ago, and out the door she went. Who cares if the trail of the dress was wrecked with travel, she didn't. Maybe it would give it more personality that way, a little wear and tear. Maybe her professor would decide to let her put on something else of her own choice if the state got so bad it would humiliate them all.

Yet, when she did finally arrive to the festival, stepping foot on the grasses of the park, a single look around told her Mrs. Barnes had actually, genuinely, had mercy on her. Oh my god, she had had so much mercy. Her own dress was annoying, sure, but did these people realize what they were wearing when they put these outfits on? Did they know the colors, the size, the gaudy extravagance was one step away from making Eloise burst into hysterical laughter and point fingers?

Slapping her hands together in a prayer of thanks, she clenched her eyes shut and stifled another dumfounded laugh, please forgive me for my previous anger and cold words, Mrs. Barnes, for I am truly a fool. Thank you for not putting me in a bright pink ball gown, I owe you my life.

With a slight mood boost obtained through internally making fun of people, Eloise finally began making her way further into the fair and its sights. She had never been one to attend these sort of things, too noisy and usually dirty, with people lacking basic common sense and care in their overexcitement. Far too many children loose too, with parents no where to be seen, only made her feel more on edge, as they zig-zagged through every person and nearly tripped or knocked them over in the process.

But hey, at least there were plenty of stalls for food. Overpriced food, no doubt, but it was a fair's only redeeming quality in her eyes, and she would be sure to seek those out to eat away her emotions, to tide her over until the time for her performance came. For now, she kept her walk towards the small "stage" that had been setup for the volunteer and university orchestra. Lines of stands and chairs, plenty of places to set down instruments and supplies with a careful eyed man keeping watch over them all. She wasn't sure if he was supposed to be the conductor or a security guard, the way he was dressed along with everyone else. Not that it mattered, it wasn't as if she was here to steal anything. Rather, it'd be great if someone would steal away her violin before the performance. Oh no, she can't perform anymore without her instrument? What a shame! Guess she'll just have to try next time. (Never. Never again. This was the first and last time she would ever visit something like this, let alone perform in it.)

After placing her case somewhere safe enough and making sure it was locked, she took the key to it back, shoving it away into her bra, given there weren't pockets on the dress. Hadn't time moved on enough to provide those for women now? No? Whatever, she barely wore them anyway, especially not this style.

Given that her performance wasn't for another two hours into the fair, Eloise took to her feet to find ways to pass the time instead until then. Food was the first thing on her mind, and with her small backpack slung over her shoulder lazily, she made way for the first stall she could find, selling fruit cups. Sure, it wasn't the sweetest or most exciting thing, but this would be far from the last snack she bought. It was good to start out light, she told herself. Fruit was refreshing anyway, and helped to calm her nerves a bit.

Not that calmed nerves lasted very long; if her music professor wasn't already turning her hair grey, then her English professor was. Lilith Evers, the kind woman who was perfect in every way, that Eloise could only do her best to run from when she saw her on campus, and try and hide in the corner of her classroom when she was there. The woman was dressed to fit in with the rest of the fair, and against Eloise's own nature she acknowledged that, yes, it did look quite pleasant on her, even though it looked like too much for herself. At her side was what looked like a freshman girl, though she had never been that great at guessing ages just by looks. Still, the counseling vibes she got from watching the situation from afar made it feel all the more likely that she was just a first year.

Little freshman! Run! Don't fall for her kindness, or you'll never be free from it!"

Her thoughts are cut short, however, when she realizes that she's been staring at the two of them for far too long. Her gaze is quick to turn to the ground, the sky, other stalls, anywhere else in hopes that the professor hadn't noticed her attention, and wouldn't approach her.