Opinionzz

So I wrote two versions of one story. And I need you to tell me which one I should end up using for the assignment.
Like I said, same story. They have the same ending too.
It's called: Finale.

So here we go.
OPTION 1: Narrative.

“Babs, did you ever dream of houses?”

“Nope.”

“Neither did I.”

“C’mon, Dot, let’s go.”

“Alright.”

Lights dim. I carry my cake down the stairs, through the audience as clapping fills the air. Reaching the table at the end, I set my cake down.

Getting ready to walk back down the aisle between the seas of chairs and seas of faces.

Rolling on the waves of applause. 

I look at Katie. 

She smiles at me and we share a laugh, and hug each other as if to strangle each other.

“I can’t believe we’re done!”

“I can’t either!”

 Straightening my “Mrs. Los Angeles” sash and arranging the silky red shawl about my shoulders, I pat my curled hair, hairsprayed until cemented. It’ll be a pain to wash out tonight. 

I look down at myself. High heels are invisible beneath the black silk skirts around my legs, pickups in three layers. The strapless bodice fits like it was made for me.

The onstage lights flare back on again. 

Michael comes out, his own bow. Then Abby and Janelle, radiant in purple and bright pink, respectively. They bow, Janelle’s curls barely moving. A whole can of hairspray was used to keep them in place. Next is Marnie. She gets a loud round of applause, as she’s the winner. She is Mrs. California. Noah is next, bowing in his pinstriped three piece suit and goofy horn-rimmed glasses. Katie and I look at each other again.

“Let’s go!”

We run down the aisle, Katie tripping and catching herself, me trying not to fall over my skirt hems as I run up the stairs to the stage. We bow to the loudest wave of applause yet, as we are the lead roles, and then we back up. I grasp hands with Noah on my right and Katie on my left. Lifting up our hands, we bow in tandem, then straighten. We point to the technicians in the back. Then God up above. And clap ourselves. I look up at Noah and Katie. And we laugh. And we’re happy and we’re sad because our play is over. And we laugh because we are relieved. 

And it is our finale.

It is our finale as a cast of seven freshman. 

It is our finale as a cast of Mrs. California.

It is our finale as a cast directed by Kristie Murphy.

It is our finale as a cast.

It is our finale.

Finale.

OPTION 2: Metaphorical.

Riding the waves of applause. 

Knowing our way down the steps, down the aisle. 

Holding the tray with the cake, stale now from three days of plays. 

Looking at Katie. 

Laughing. 

Finding the table at the end, setting our stuff down. 

Turning to each other. Laughing. “I can’t believe we’re done!” Hugging each other so we can’t breathe. 

Composing myself. Deep breaths. In and out. 

I’m done. I’m done.

Straightening my skirts, black silk and tulle. The blue sash reading, “Mrs. Los Angeles”. The red scarf around my bare shoulders. I brush invisible crumbs off of the strapless bodice, down the dark skirt with the pickups, teetering in t-strap heels. Touching my curled hair, hairspray crunching. 

Lights flaring on. 

Bows. 

Michael first, in shirtsleeves and suspenders. 

Janelle and Abby, radiant in vibrant pink and purple, respectively. 

Marnie, Mrs. Modesto, Mrs. California. All sparkles and va-va-voom in her fitted, bright red dress. 

Then Noah, in his grey, three piece pinstriped suit and goofy horn-rimmed glasses, coming down centre stage. 

It’s our turn now. Looking at Katie, I smile. “This is it!” She straightens out her clothes. Only one in jeans and a stripy sweater. 

Ride the growing surge of applause forward, like a boat at sea. We each do our own bows, straightening, backing up. Grabbing each other’s hands. Noah on my right. Katie on my left. We raise clasped hands triumphantly to the sky, then down to the ground, bowing. We straighten. 

Point to Craig in the back. 

Techies. 

Up to God in heaven above. 

Provider. 

Then clap.

I look up at Noah. Glance at Katie. And laugh. We all laugh. Because we are done.

And we keep laughing. And we’re happy and we’re sad because our play is over. And we laugh because we are relieved. And we are sad because we are done.

And it is our finale.

It is our finale as a cast of seven freshman. 

It is our finale as a cast of Mrs. California.

It is our finale as a cast directed by Kristie Murphy.

It is our finale as a cast.

It is our finale.

Finale.