Swimming Through the Dawn

by R. P. Rioux

  Once she was beyond earshot, Heather asked, "What do you suppose she meant by 'girls like us'?"

  "Probably girls who bathe regularly," said Erin, just as a song ended on the PA system.

  Mindy put a finger over Erin's lips in a silencing gesture. "Just because you have an apparent death wish," she whispered, "doesn't mean you need to drag us down with you."

  At 7:30, Tim reemerged and instructed the girls to hit the stage. Heather counted 12 people in the main room, including staff. Not one of their guests had arrived.

  The setlist opened with "Celestial." Heather thought it would be a smart choice since it was their hardest driving song and stood the best chance of making a positive first impression with the "crowd." The rest of the band wasn't feeling it. Erin lost the beat. Grace followed her into oblivion before awkwardly migrating to Mindy's steadier rhythm after skipping a few bars. Mindy was annoyed by the disjointedness. Distracted by these observations, Heather missed one of her own lines, which in turn caused Sun-hee to enter late.

  The three audience members who were at least making a show of listening soon lost interest and instead joined in the general conversation. The sound guy sensed the vibe in the room and steadily inched the volume towards zero. Their performance had been reduced to background noise. At the song's conclusion, nobody even acknowledged it. Heather looked at her dejected bandmates. This was far from the debut they had long dreamt about. She had to motivate them somehow.

  Fortunately, Grace came to the rescue, taking a step towards Mindy and motioning for the five to gather. "Believe it or not, it could be worse," she said.

  "At least they didn't boo," said Erin.

  "They'd have to actually care enough to boo," surmised Mindy.

  "Okay, well, regardless, let's treat this as extra practice. From the sound of "Celestial," we could use it." Once they realized mistakes would go unnoticed, the band grew more at ease.

  By the time their show ended, the club's patrons were boisterously greeting newcomers and thoroughly oblivious to what marked Made in Heaven's first-ever gig. As if they weren't feeling beaten enough, the band that followed added insult to injury by not waiting for their equipment to be removed. Mindy looked ready to punch a guy who was shuttling her drum kit into a haphazard pile offstage without permission. Sun-hee calmed her so she wouldn't commit an action they'd regret.

  During the van ride home, the group argued, highlighted mistakes, and provided each other with unsolicited advice. Arnie received the brunt of the vitriol for booking such a wildly inappropriate club.

  "Show me a K-Pop club in L.A., and I'll book ya there," he responded.

  The van stopped off at Grace's parents' house, where they unloaded equipment and went their separate ways, each vowing to do better next time. Their first club performance was in the books. Heather hoped for brighter days ahead, or her band idea would prove to be short-lived.

  18

  Grace

  The dance studio was warmer than Grace would have preferred. She worried it would impact the group's stamina. The five members of Made in Heaven had spent the last two hours at the Fine Arts Building shuttling from room to room as availability allowed. The space they occupied was exposed to direct sunlight. Typically, a glorious place in which to work, the studio felt uncomfortably warm on late fall afternoons. This explained its availability.

  Before most of the group arrived, Heather supplied one of her patented scares. "I think we should disband."

  Grace leaned back and assessed Heather to determine if she was indeed real. She'd have to tread carefully. Her next words could prove pivotal. "Let's take a moment to think about this first."

  "I mean it. I'm not good enough. I want to spare us all more embarrassment."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "What have I accomplished? Can you tell me that?"

  "You're an amazingly talented person."

  "I'm a fraud. My dad made everything possible. I'm just along for the ride."

  "Don't let what happened at 37-G define you. They lost their star."

  "I can't even get friends to show up to a crappy club gig. How am I a star?"

  Grace knew she couldn't let Heather suffer alone. If anything, Made in Heaven was a much-needed distraction and source of support for her friend. She needed to continue selling the idea. "You're a star to us. We believe in you. Doesn't that matter?"

  Heather's eyes blinked three times in rapid succession. "It does matter."

  "Then prove it."

  "I'm telling you now."

  "Show us."

  "How?"

  "By turning us into a powerhouse. We have talent on this squad. Mold us into your vision."

  With the video production behind them, the group's attention had shifted to the much-neglected dance unit. Grace called for a preliminary rehearsal to jumpstart that effort but also had a secondary purpose in mind. The new unit would require two additional members, including one dance specialist. Unbeknownst to the others, Grace had already taken measures to address that situation.

  "By the way, I invited a guest to watch our dance," she stated.

  The general chatter stopped as the girls' curiosity got the better of them. "Are we ready for that?" asked Mindy.

  "Vanessa's in my English class. Her skills would definitely help. She was recruited on a full dance scholarship. Sings some too."

  "Does she speak Korean?" queried Heather.

  "She's Vietnamese."

  Heather sighed in disappointment.

  "Let's at least talk to her. Fair warning. She can take some getting used to." Twenty-five minutes later, Grace was making introductions. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Vanessa Nguyen."

  She had her own sense of style. That was readily apparent when she stood next to the other three, who took a more conservative approach to fashion. Vanessa was hard to mistake for anyone else. She wore a flouncing, brightly patterned, mini sundress under a faded jean vest, black mid-thigh stockings, and short black boots. A black felt hat topped the look. Her long voluminous black hair was a bit curly, with a single braided strand as an accent. Compared to the others, her waist, arms, and chest were more rounded. She looked fit and powerful, without appearing muscular.

  "I've seen you around campus, but didn't know your name," said Erin. "Nice to meet you."

  Vanessa merely smiled back, looking somewhat impatient. Grace explained their goals and described the dance they were preparing. She requested a critique of their performance.

  "Sure thing. Show me whatcha got." Vanessa leaned against the mirrored wall facing the windows, arms crossed in front.

  A few minutes later, the presentation ended. Mistakes had been made, but Grace was pleased. She awaited a verdict. The haste with which Vanessa snatched her belongings, and the annoyed look on her face, spoke volumes.

  "Okay, thanks for the offer, but I'm out. See you in class."

  "Wait, where are you going?" Grace shouted.

  "At least tell us what's wrong," said Heather.

  "I thought you said this was K-Pop," said Vanessa with a snarl.

  "And?"

  "So, what's with the cheerleader bullshit?"

  Muted gasps.

  "See, I told you," said Mindy.

  "Was it that bad?" asked Sun-hee crestfallen.

  "Oh, my god, arya kidding?" Her dance bag plunked to the floor with a thud. Vanessa contorted herself into the most clichéd, high school cheerleader moves imaginable, dramatically overemphasizing them for a humorous effect. "C'mon, my sister in middle school does more interesting stuff than this." Her comic display pierced the tension in the room, causing them to giggle spontaneously—everyone, except Grace, who remained miffed.

  As Vanessa ceased her ridiculous gyrations, Heather stepped forward, diplomatically restraining a laugh. "That's why we could use your help."

  "Look, you're decent dancers, frankly, but your routine lacks imagination. You'll need much more than my help." Vanessa looked with pity at the forlorn group standing before he
r. "Okay, tell you what." She reached for her phone, and after a brief search, stated, "I'm sending you a contact."

  Grace's phone vibrated a moment later. "Who's Danya?" she asked after glancing at the message.

  "Danya Kay. She's the one who's gonna save your ass. As a former Army brat from Camp Henry, she's familiar with K-Pop choreography. I'm willing to stick around to see how this goes, but if you wanna keep me, you gotta convince her."

  "That's terrific," said Grace.

  "There's a catch."

  "Of course, there is." The room went silent as the group awaited Vanessa's caveat.

  "She's busy because she's top-notch. You have to make it worth her while. And let me tell you, Bring It On ain't going to cut it."

  19

  Erin

  It was 12:30 a.m., and the light remained on in Mindy's apartment. Erin knew she had taken a risk driving from Westchester to Hollywood without knowing whether her unnie was awake. She had a favor to ask, and an in-person visit stood a better chance of succeeding than a text. Her tentative knock came with the hope it wouldn't merely be a roommate who answered.

  Mindy opened the door, looking unsurprised. "Sexiled again?"

  Erin nodded without saying a word, realizing the pillow and blanket she clutched adequately communicated her plight.

  "You're in luck. My immediate roommate's in San Diego visiting her folks. The other two are in Big Bear."

  Erin beamed. "Oh, thank you, you're a lifesaver. I was so worried I'd be sleeping in my car, it's cold tonight and the thought of—"

  "I was making ramen," offered Mindy, cutting her off. "Want some?"

  She nodded without making herself appear too desperate. "I missed dinner."

  As Mindy went to the kitchen to finish preparations, Erin surveyed the apartment. The mismatched furniture consisted of hand-me-downs in various stages of dilapidation. Mindy's drum kit was squeezed in a far corner of the room. Clothing and other personal items were strewn haphazardly. Unopened boxes were stacked in the corners. The lack of shelf space explained the many objects stored on the floor. Walls were bereft of decor, with but a couple of music-related posters thumbtacked in place of framed artwork. Apart from the kitchen, a shadeless lamp in the living room provided the sole illumination. The contents of a sewing kit spilled across the dining table with a red cloth piled next to it.

  "What are you working on?"

  "Marielle was teaching me to sew," said Mindy, speaking from the kitchen. "I've wanted to learn. Could come in handy for outfits. The tablecloth is for practice."

  "Can I see?"

  "Sure."

  Erin cleared the table of items, unfolded the cloth, and smoothed its wrinkles. Her attempts to get it straight were unsuccessful. Corners were cut at odd angles, preventing its edges from matching those of the table.

  "How's it look?" Mindy asked.

  "Um…good."

  Mindy entered with two steaming bowls of ramen. Upon spotting her handiwork, she marveled at its awfulness, then giggled as she set the food on the table. "Marielle has no reason to fear me."

  "True," agreed Erin, relieved to see her reaction.

  "It looks easy, but it's not." They sat to eat. "I added gochujang, some bok choy, a hard-boiled egg, and a dab of soy sauce. Also, sriracha. Hope you don't mind."

  "If I knew what half of that was, I'd let you know. Smells amazing, though."

  "I keep forgetting you're a newb when it comes to Asian food."

  Erin attempted to eat noodles with her chopsticks but kept losing them long before they reached her mouth. She guiltily discarded the unfamiliar utensils and chose a fork instead.

  "You'll get used to it."

  Erin rolled her noodles spaghetti style and took one bite. "Mmm, it's delicious. You made it so fast. Mine are so boring."

  "The key is quality noodles. Don't bother with standard grocery store crap. Go to an Asian market."

  "I tried once. Saw a million types of noodles in an aisle a mile long. No clue what to do with it."

  "We'll go shopping soon. I'll teach you Noodles 101."

  Erin tasted the broth but found it too hot. "Are you still seeing that guy?" she asked, "What's his name?"

  "You mean Bryce? No, that's over. He was a coward. Wouldn't even tell me in person."

  "How'd you find out?"

  "He had his dog unfollow me on Instagram last week." Mindy shrugged like it was no big deal. She added a few sprigs of Thai basil to her ramen. "So, what's up, buttercup? Your roommate at it again?"

  "Oh my god, it's getting worse." Erin's pent emotions got the better of her. Words poured forth. "When this first started, it would be different guys once or twice a week. Now, it's out of control. Tonight, she had two with her at once. I stayed long enough to grab my stuff, but saw things I never imagined."

  Mindy at first smiled, then broke into a hearty laugh. "Seriously? Wow! Her sex life sounds so much better than mine."

  "They always tell me I can stay, but would you feel comfortable with all that going on?"

  "Maybe they want you to join in," Mindy suggested. "Sounds like they could use a fourth."

  "Mindy!" Erin scolded.

  "I'm teasing," she snickered. "I agree, though, it's inconsiderate. Is this the same roommate you started the year with?"

  "Same one."

  "I thought she was evangelical and took a purity oath of some kind."

  "She did, at her bible school in Kentucky. When she began the semester, she would quote scripture to explain why she planned to stay a virgin until marriage. Boy, not anymore."

  "What happened?"

  "Who knows? When this became a problem, I said, 'You used to call your body the temple of the Lord.'"

  "How did she respond?"

  "She goes, 'It still is. Now I just want to let as many worshippers in as possible.'"

  Mindy choked a loud laugh and clapped her hands in delight, "Oh, that's classic. I havta remember that one."

  Erin was surprised by her reaction, but ultimately saw the humor in the situation. "Is my roommate bad?"

  Mindy smiled at the question but considered it honestly. "Well, here's the thing. Guys can sleep around as much as they want, and nobody cares. When women do the same thing? Yeah, good luck with that. It's not right, but that's reality." Erin's reaction must've signaled to Mindy that her answer was incomplete. She continued. "Listen, do what you feel comfortable with, but just realize people will talk. You know how to avoid pregnancy and STDs, right?"

  Erin nodded.

  "What are you planning to do?"

  "I don't want to rock the boat. My roommate's pretty nice most of the time. I could sleep in the car. It's only for one year."

  "Well, you're welcome to stay here if I have room."

  Erin's broth had cooled considerably, and she ate more vigorously. After they finished and cleaned the dishes, including those left behind by the roommates, they got ready for bed. Before retiring to her room, Mindy prepared the couch with an extra sheet and pillow. Erin, in the meantime, mustered the courage to make another revelation. "Remember the night of the campfire when we shot our video? You all discussed dating and stuff and teased me about my boyfriends in high school."

  "I hope you didn't feel we were laughing at you."

  "Can I tell you a secret?"

  "Of course."

  "I've never, you know—I still haven't—" She hesitated.

  Mindy extended a finger to stop her from continuing. "Okay, first of all, don't say, 'lost your virginity.' It sounds so negative. I prefer saying, 'making your sexual debut.'"

  Erin laughed, relieved she wasn't being ridiculed. "My parents told me to wait until marriage, but that doesn't seem important to anyone here. Everybody talks about sex so much, I'm wondering if there's something wrong with me."

  "Realize this. In the space of a few years, your parents will go from saying 'Don't ever have sex' to asking 'When will you have kids?' Is that even remotely fair? Don't pressure yourself. When you're ready, it'll happe
n. Just make sure he's considerate." Mindy thought about it momentarily. "And don't do it simply for his sake, either. It should be your choice."

  "I thought coming to college would help me master adulting, but I'm more confused than ever."

  "Don't wish your life away. Enjoy the moment."

  "You handle things well. Meanwhile, I get my butt kicked on basics like getting my car smogged, and doing laundry without destroying my clothes."