CHAPTER 4
Lex
“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” I was squeezing the shit out of Shane’s hand, making him wince, as we stood in line to collect our audition badges for Dominic’s music video. Yesterday at registration, I hadn’t felt this quick fluttering in my chest, as if my heart had just grown wings and I couldn’t trust the flight pattern.
“Damn, Lex. I need those.”
I pulled my hands away. “Geez, sorry. I’m just so nervous.”
“Good. You always dance better when you’re nervous.” He massaged his hands. “Besides, the people in this room don’t care about anyone but themselves. You’re as ready as anyone else here.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t know that you’re not. Not until you suck it up and go out there and try.”
Sometimes, Shane could be so irritating. But I knew he was right, and my attitude deserved a swift kick in the ass.
The wide hallways were so crammed on our way into the studio, I could barely see the entrance. Dancers were shoulder to shoulder with no end in sight. And not a single one of them looked half as terrified as I felt.
We made it to the front of the line and slapped on our stickers that identified us as numbers eighty-six and eighty-seven. I wrapped my arms around one of Shane’s to stay close as we followed the herd into our audition room. Or rather, the audition room.
Above the door, the sign labeled “Main Studio” did nothing to describe what existed beyond the solid mahogany double doors. The room was reserved primarily for bigger auditions—like this one—and rehearsals. I was well aware of the Grammy and Tony award winners who frequently graced the room with their presence. I was also aware of the groundbreaking choreography that was birthed in the very room we were stepping into.
Nerves lit up my body like rapid fire as Shane pulled me across the threshold. My eyes widened, immediately taking in every inch of the room. The walls were a shimmery light gray with black and red diamond accents, mirrors spanned the entire front of the room, and the light-wood floor looked so polished it could have been used as a Slip ’N Slide.
“Wow,” I gushed. It was as if I’d just stepped into Theo’s YouTube channel.
“Amazing, right?” Shane grabbed my hand and pulled me to the only free space in the room big enough for both of us.
The studio was packed already, wall-to-wall with dancers who were chatting, stretching, getting ready for what might have been the biggest opportunity of their careers. I should have been doing the same. Instead, my eyes connected on the center of the room. My entire body tensed.
Every dancer had their sweet spot, their special place on the studio floor where they believed they focused best. Some gravitated toward the right, some the left, some the front, some the back. My special place was the dead center of the room, and someone was already standing there.
Shane put an arm on my shoulder. “Sorry, Lex. There’s no way you’re getting in there.”
With a heavy sigh, I knew I had to acknowledge he was right. “Damn it.”
I sat, throwing out my legs in a V and leaning back on my palms. “Yeah, well. It’s not like I’ll last very long.”
He gave me a lopsided grin as he sat facing me and mirrored my stretch. “Turn that bad attitude around. Or do we need to have the self-fulfilling-prophecy talk again?”
I groaned. “Ugh, no. Please.”
“Then grow some confidence, and trust me when I say you’ve got this. I’m not going to tell you again.”
Shane and his damn pep talks. I bit my lip, trying not to smile.
Another thing I loved about my best friend: he kept his promises. If he said he wasn’t going to pump me up anymore today, he wouldn’t. He wanted me to battle my insecurities as much as I wanted to. The funny thing was that having confidence on the dance floor wasn’t my problem. That came naturally. It was the “getting there” I was having trouble with.
My thoughts were jarred by the sound of the main doors to the room clanging shut. I looked up to see Janelle weaving her way through the mess of stretched-out limbs as she walked to the front of the room.
“All right, all right,” she said, her voice carrying over the excited chatter. “Let’s get the party started.”
A cheer rose from the crowd, and my heart thrummed a mile a minute.
I’d taken a few of Janelle’s contemporary classes before, so I wasn’t a stranger to her choreography. But it wasn’t just her compositions that made her a star choreographer. Everything about Janelle’s energy screamed sass and confidence—my favorite combination—and watching her filled me with a certain buoyancy just waiting to be unleashed.
I aspired to be on the other side of things one day. To create. To teach. To inspire. And being here at Gravity, especially in this room, was the biggest step I’d ever taken toward those dreams.
“I’m gonna lay it down real quick so we can get started, so listen up.” Janelle clapped her hands, demanding silence.
In seconds, all eyes and ears were on her. Why wouldn’t they be? Even I could admit she was hard to look away from. She had the most amazing hair—a pouf of dark brown with blond highlights situated in tight rings around her head. Her bronze skin was radiant under the harsh glare of the studio light, and the smile that lit her face also lit up the entire room. She was a star.
“There are over two hundred of you in here right now auditioning for one of eight spots for an upcoming music video.” Her wide eyes drifted over the room. “So, if urban dance is not your thing, get the hell out now before I tell you it’s not your thing.”
Laughter shook the room, and she responded with a grin.
“We’re going to need to keep things moving quickly so we can get into the meat of the choreography. Dominic will be joining us in one hour, and we’ll only have room for fifty of you. That means cuts will be frequent, possibly when you least expect it. So, if you’re asked to leave, please make your way out the door swiftly and quietly. Got it?”
Everyone nodded and muttered their agreement. When Janelle seemed satisfied with the response, she gestured for us all to rise.
After centering herself in front of the mirror, she delivered the first eight count, walking us through the fancy footwork a few times, letting us get the feel for the moves before we ran it with music. She didn’t pause to reteach the steps as an instructor would in my studio classes. She blazed forward, moving through phases of music with a clear expectation—Keep up. Looking around the room, I noticed many dancers were struggling to do just that.
“Holy crap, she’s going fast,” I hissed to Shane when Janelle jogged to the front of the room and guzzled some water.
He was focused on his reflection, practicing what we’d learned so far. “Welcome to auditions,” he said without stopping. He shot me a quick look. “Why aren’t you running it? Your brain needs to be on hyper-focus mode now. Don’t get distracted.”
There was that ass kicking I needed again. It helped. Soon enough, I’d gotten into my own rhythm, and I started using the little down time we had to mark the steps with Shane.
When Dominic entered the room an hour later, the intense energy among the dancers was palpable. Everyone had reverted to competition mode, and I could practically taste their blood as Janelle proceeded to cut another fifteen dancers.
Fifty dancers remained.
My heart leapt, and I turned to Shane. “I’m still here,” I hissed, looking around the room in disbelief. My eyes connected with the floor in the center of the room, and my heart kicked in my chest. “Shane.” I grabbed and shook his arm. “Look.”
He followed the direction of my stare and let out a booming laugh. The spot was empty.
“Well, what are you waiting for? It’s time to slay the shit out of the competition.”
“Number eighty-six,” Janelle called out. “You’re up.”
The last hour had been an exhilarating whirlwind of choreography, line critiques, and group performances so Dominic and Janelle could see how we meshed with other dancers. Cuts were nonstop and random, dwindling the group to a mere ten.
I jogged to the front of the room and took the only spot available on the end. And as soon as the music started, I felt it—the surge of energy that cycled through me at the start of every performance. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to totally let go and let my muscle memory take over. To attack each move with a fierceness that turned me into a superhero.
People often asked how I was able to perform with so much passion and confidence. My answer was always the same: “Know the routine so well, I don’t need to think about the moves anymore.” My job was to express with conviction everything my body already knew. So that was what I did.
I spun out of a move and into a final pose, a giant smile plastered on my face. Janelle’s eyes were focused on me. She was nodding, and I knew I’d impressed her. I nailed it. I wanted to burst with joy.
Shane’s group went next, and I low-fived him as we exchanged spaces. “So hot, Lex.”
“Kill it, Shane.”
Shane was one of those dancers who popped and locked so hard, I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks on me. But it was his contemporary that had made me fall in love with his every step. The boy could have easily made it in professional ballet, but that wasn’t where his heart wanted to take him. No. Shane’s heart was in modern dance, which was why he easily outperformed all the other dancers in his line. Break dance was his specialty. I wasn’t surprised that he annihilated the routine.
Shane returned to my side while Janelle paused, looked at a sheet of paper, then walked to the front of the room. “Let me see numbers eighty-six and one thirty-three, one more time, please.”
My heart plummeted as she waved another girl and me forward into a line. Shane and I glanced at each other, as if realizing the same thing. The majority of the dancers must have already been chosen—which meant she wanted one more look at us before she made her final decision.
They were going to either cut me or keep me.
“Good luck,” Shane mouthed from his spot against the back wall. Nerves rattled my face as I smiled in return.
The music started, and all my anxiety fell away. It didn’t matter who was in the room or what personal problems I had outside the studio. When the music started thumping through me, I was a totally new person. A whole new brave person. And this dance was no exception.
Shane grabbed my hand when we were done, our breaths heavy and palms sweaty, but I didn’t pull away.
Janelle leaned into Dominic, and they deliberated in hushed voices. Two of us had to go for them to have their final eight. Unless they made an exception. Hope flickered through me.
Janelle frowned, then Dominic shrugged as if there were some disagreement, but it didn’t last long. Janelle faced forward and grabbed the microphone, her smile breaking through her serious expression.
“Numbers eighty-six and one thirty-three, thank you so much for joining us today. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it through.” Her kind eyes settled on me. “You both made it a very tough decision, and for that, you should be very proud.” She beamed at the remaining dancers. “The rest of you, congratulations. We’d love to have you in Dominic’s next video. Please stick around for a few minutes.”
A familiar hand settled on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Lex.” Shane was so sincere, it almost made everything worse.
If a heart could split in two, that was exactly what mine did in that moment. Half of me was overcome with joy for my best friend while the other half was completely brokenhearted for me.
That audition couldn’t have been more perfect for him. I knew that, deep down, from the start. I wanted him to get the part, and I was elated when he did. There wasn’t a single ounce of me that felt resentful toward him. But damn, I didn’t think rejection would suck this hard.
Shane wrapped his arms around me, and I squeezed him back. “You deserve this. You killed it today.”
“So did you.”
I shook my head, refusing to let any negative emotion surface. This was his moment, and he was going to enjoy every damn second of it.
“I’m holding out for something better,” I teased.
He hugged me again, practically swaddling me, until he was called to the front of the room.
So I left my first audition with a heavy heart and a jar of bottled-up feelings that I still refused to release. Not there.
I looked around the crowded hallway while figuring out my next move. It must have been the top of the hour because everyone was heading to a class. I didn’t feel like taking a class. Not after that audition. I didn’t feel like going home either. I didn’t even feel like waiting for Shane to leave his meeting with Janelle and Dominic. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts and maybe open that jar of bottled-up feelings I’d been holding onto so tightly.