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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

       www.egmont.co.uk

      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.

      Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

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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

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       Front series promotional page

       CHAPTER FOUR

       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

       Back series promotional page

      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

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