by K. K. Allen
I shoveled a huge forkful in my mouth. “So what’s the exciting news?” Shane didn’t seem to care I was mumbling past the food.
“Dominic’s looking for a road crew for a club tour he’s putting together since he’s not planning a stage tour until next year. He wants to be more low-key, connect with his people, but still stay out there, so he thinks this is the perfect idea. We’ll hang with him, perform a few songs, then move on to the next city. He’s talking twenty-four US cities now, but it could grow. The clubs seem to be loving the idea.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. Dominic really likes you, too.”
Shane threw me a look to tell me my comment was ridiculous. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”
I laughed. If I had an ounce of Shane’s confidence, I’d be set for life.
“Shit. We need to get you to the studio.” Shane popped out of his chair. “Do something with your hair, and I’m going to pack you a bag for today. Trust me, you’ll want some backups.”
“Backups?” I called after him, but he was already on the move, packing my duffel full of extra leggings, shirts, and shoes. Then he went into the kitchen and added some snack bars and water.
“Aw, babe,” I cooed when he met me at the door, my shoes and plaid fully intact. “You shouldn’t have.” I grinned, motioning to the bag he carried.
“This is the last of my apology. After this, we go back to even steven.”
He locked the door behind him, and we started making our way down the hall. “All right, now tell me about this secret audition. Did Janelle give you any hints?”
I shook my head against the breeze that whipped strands of my hair into my face. I’d curled it a little, but I was certain it would straighten by the time we got to Gravity. “She’s helping out with auditions. There are seventy-five dancers, and there are twelve spots, but six of those are already filled, unofficially.” I made air quotes around unofficially, and he nodded.
“Janelle is the real deal. You’re in good hands with her on your side.”
I let out a deep breath. “I hope so. But whatever, right? It’s just another audition. I’m either right for the part or not.”
Shane wrapped his arm over my shoulders and kept me close. “No, girl. This is the one. Don’t ever be content with failing.”
“But not getting selected isn’t failing,” I said, because it was what I’d been telling myself after every audition where I hadn’t been chosen.
He laughed. “That’s what losers tell themselves, Lex. Don’t be a loser today.”
CHAPTER 8
Lex
Shane walked me all the way into the studio and led me to my favorite spot in the center of the room.
I was used to open auditions—rooms packed to maximum capacity with barely any space to move. But after one scan of the room, noting all the serious faces, and bodies spaced out from each other, I knew this audition would be different. More intimate.
Every audition seemed to be set up in a similar fashion, and this one was no exception, with one or two folding tables placed near the mirrors at the front of the room and a microphone on a stand. Each judge was given a stack of papers and a manila folder that held our head shots and resumes.
The judges’ tables were empty, yet I could still feel my heart pounding with the anticipation of finding out who I’d be dancing for today.
Shane turned to me, grabbed my face in his palms, and stared me dead in the eyes. “You’re going to rock the shit out of this audition.” Excitement was practically oozing out of him. “You’re shaking,” he noted with a gentle smile. “Stop. You’ve got this.”
“How do you do it? How are you so calm and levelheaded about everything?”
“How are you so blind to your own talent? Damn it, Lex. You’re the best dancer in this room, and it’s time you started to realize it too. I won’t be around to keep reminding you, so lock this conversation up in that brilliant brain of yours. You’re going to tear this dance floor up. Take no prisoners. Leave their mouths agape—”
“Okay, I get it.” I laughed and felt my heart swell at the same time. Leave it to Shane to put me in my place. It was why I’d kept him around all these years.
His expression remained serious, sobering me quickly. “Your only job is to give your all today, blood and glory, baby. Everything will play out as it should.”
I breathed deeply, inhaling through my nose then releasing it through my mouth.
After my heart settled, my eyes locked on his—an endless sea of whiskey. And somewhere inside them lay my buoy, bobbing calmly in rough waters, where I could always cling if needed. I felt it. His words filling me. My confidence building.
And then something shifted in the room—an energy, a shuffle of sounds. I couldn’t exactly pinpoint it, but whatever it was raised every hair on my body. Because somehow, I knew without having to look.
Shane’s palms fell from my cheeks as my head turned and I spotted him, the dream crusher himself. Theo was walking the perimeter of the room toward the judges’ tables. Meanwhile, all the confidence Shane had just worked up in me vanished in an instant.
I hadn’t even danced yet, and I’d already completely failed the audition. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to—
“What is it?” Shane asked, my discomfort on full display.
“I can’t do this.”
Shane looked genuinely rattled by my comment. “What the hell? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Then he turned to follow the one my eyes were tracking. “No fucking way.”
Theo had picked up the manila envelope and was pulling out the resumes. He hadn’t even looked up. He started sorting through the pile, one by one, and reading quickly through them before flipping some over to see the head shots.
Then something else clicked in my brain and my heart squeezed.
“Shane.” My voice shook. “Theo was listening to a bunch of Winter’s new songs in the theater.”
His face fell as if I’d just crushed all his dreams. Shane had been obsessed with Winter for years. Auditioning for her in any capacity was his dream too, more than anything Dominic could provide him.
“Are you sure?” Shane’s eyes were glued to my lips, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of them. He looked around the room and spotted something else. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He released me. “Janelle,” he called.
Janelle had just walked into the room. Her eyes snapped to him, confused, and she made her way over. Her expression softened. “You can’t be in here, babe.”
I saw the devastation on Shane’s face. “Nellie,” he said, almost pleadingly. The nickname was new to my ears, but I knew they’d been close since the Dominic gig. “Why didn’t I get an invite for this?”
Her face twisted into a genuine apology. “Oh, hon. I would have given you one, but you’re on contract. You can’t audition again until the video is over. And if you agree to the club tour, then you’ll have to wait until that’s over too. I’m so sorry, but that’s the breaks of the business, I guess.”
Shane groaned dramatically. “Shit.”
Janelle reached for him, and I watched their hug with a small smile on my face. She patted his back after a few seconds. “Now you need to wish Lex good luck and get the hell out.” She winked at me and backed away, pointing a finger at a still-pouty Shane. “We’ll talk later. Get out of here.”
He turned, a smile blooming on his face again, and wrapped me in a big hug that lifted me from the floor. “I’m going to ignore what you said when you saw Theo. If you leave this audition, I might actually murder you in your sleep tonight.” He released me and backed away. “Remember what I said.”
And he was gone. My heart grew heavy, and I faced front. As I did, my eyes locked on Theo’s. He’d spotted me. And from the way he was squinting, his hazel eyes aflame, he didn’t look pleased to see me. At all.
Janelle did the intro speech, basically rattling off the things she’d told me yesterday, noting that the artist would be i
n later but adding the bit about Theo being the choreographer. Yeah, that piece of information would have been useful yesterday. Why didn’t I think to ask? Not that she would have told me.
It was too late now. I was in my lucky spot, and I had Janelle on my side. I’d been studying Theo’s dance style for six years. The odds were in my favor, and if I hung onto that thought, I might have even started believing it—if it weren’t for Theodore “Angry” Noska glowering at me from the front of the room.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I tore my eyes away from him, focused on Janelle, and pushed away every ounce of insecurity. I needed to stop focusing on all the reasons I wouldn’t succeed and start thinking about how well I was set up for success. Shane was right. There wasn’t a single reason I shouldn’t nail this audition.
When the room cheered after Theo’s introduction and he jogged to the front of the room, I clapped too. I played the part. No one would have known that in one exchange Theo had tried to crush every single fantasy I’d ever had of him.
In that theater, he’d effectively kicked me when I was already down—a classless move. Still, I knew I’d become stronger for it, and he wasn’t worth the nerves I’d once had in his presence. He was a brilliant choreographer, but that didn’t mean I had to like him.
Just like that, my insecurities dissolved and I focused on Theo’s intricate steps, completely losing myself in the zone.
If I’d thought Janelle’s audition choreography was fast, I was sorely mistaken. Theo didn’t spend much time repeating eight counts. And he didn’t hold back with choreography either. Thanks to my superb Theo-video-stalking skills, I was well aware that he taught in sounds rather than music counts.
“Let’s see it,” he called as he turned around. He nodded to Janelle, who was controlling the stereo system from an app on her phone.
The music played, and I waited for him to see me. To judge me. But after the first two intro counts passed, his eyes had moved on to everyone except me. I shoved away my frustration, knowing we still had four eight counts to go. He would watch everyone at some point, I just had to be ready.
I nailed it. I hit every single odd count and offbeat of the four eight counts he’d taught us in less than an hour. His gaze never stopped on me. By the end of the routine, I wanted to scream.
Theo took a seat and turned to Janelle. She nodded in response to whatever he said and leaned into the mic. “Five-minute break, guys.”
My water was sitting against the wall in the back of the room. When I reached it, a girl with long and sleek dark brown hair leaned down and grabbed her water too. We guzzled from our bottles in sync, and when we put them down, we faced each other and laughed at the awkwardness.
She stuck out her hand. “Hey, I’m Amie. I’ve seen you in some of my classes.”
My mouth turned up at the sides. Someone actually recognized me, which was an improvement from just a few weeks ago. “I’m Lex,” I said as I took her hand. “My friend Shane and I moved to town four months ago. We’ve been taking classes full-time.” I laughed with a shake of my head and added, “Well, he got the Dominic gig, so he’s been busy with that lately.” And why was I still talking?
Her eyes shone. “That’s incredible. And now you’re here. I don’t think I got my first invite until two years ago.” She waved away her own comment with a swipe of her hand. “But I started when I was in elementary, so there wasn’t much I could audition for, anyway.”
“So you’re a Lifer, then.” I’d heard others use the term in reference to the dancers who had been there for years, ones everyone seemed to know.
She nodded, her eyes wide. “Oh yes. Stick around. You’ll get there. I love Gravity. We really are a big family.”
“That’s the plan, hopefully—to stick around.”
“Good.” She leaned in and squeezed my arm. “Good luck today, by the way. I’ve watched you. You’re really good.”
“Thank you.” Her words made me feel a little lighter in my chest. “Good luck to you.”
We made our way to our spots on the floor. When I looked up, it was hard not to notice the conversation going on at the front of the room. Janelle and Theo were having an argument. Their expressions were heated as they took turns speaking, the exchange complete with tight jaws and finger pointing. I started to feel shifty in my skin, as if I were invading their privacy by watching them, when Janelle’s eyes shot to me.
My heart sank. If her look alone didn’t tell me that whatever they were arguing about had something to do with me, then the look that Theo threw my way absolutely did.
CHAPTER 9
Theo
“You are not letting Lex go this first round. Did you even watch her? She was the only one out of the entire group who nailed your choreography.” Janelle let out an incredulous laugh, grinding on every one of my nerves. “Come on, Theo. This whole last-minute audition was bad enough, but you let her go and you’re making the biggest mistake.”
“This isn’t your decision.”
Shit. That was the wrong thing to say.
Janelle’s eyes narrowed on me. “Fuck you, dude. I canceled my class for you. I handed you studio space that I’d reserved three months ago. I sought out dancers for you the day before your goddamn audition. I think you owe me just a little respect.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “I’ll give you just a little.”
I knew Janelle wanted to scream. She probably would have punched me if she weren’t surrounded by her peers and pupils. Why the hell was she fighting for this Lex chick, anyway? This was my call. My choreography. My production.
“What is your deal with her? You’ve been making snide comments since the start of this. She hadn’t even danced yet and you shoved her picture in my face and told me to kick her out from the start. Why? What am I missing here?”
I let out a deep breath, knowing Janelle wasn’t going to ease up. “She called me a jerk.”
I didn’t think I’d ever seen Janelle laugh so goddamn hard since I’d known her.
“News flash,” she said through a fit of giggles. “You are the biggest jerk. And that’s putting it nicely. So get over it, because everyone in this room who knows you would agree.” She faced front, then it seemed she had an afterthought, because she turned back to me. “When would Lex have had the opportunity to say something like that, anyway? How do you know her?”
I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. “She was spying on me in the theater when I was choreographing Winter’s set.”
Janelle’s eyes went wide. “What? Spying on you?”
Okay, so maybe that word was a little harsh. “I think it was an accident or something, but when I caught her, she called me a jerk.”
Janelle shook her head. “Yeah, there’s more to that story, clearly. Look, this is what we’re going to do. I want to respect the fact that this is your gig. I really do. But you owe me. Have her line run it again and watch her. You can’t let her go if you haven’t even seen her perform.”
She was right. I knew she was right, but something about Lex had crawled under my skin and festered for three weeks. I couldn’t understand why, exactly. She wasn’t the first chick to call me a jerk or some other nonflattering version of the word. In my mind, she was cut the moment I spotted her in the pile of head shots. And when I looked up and saw her staring back at me before auditions began today—in the arms of that same guy who had pushed her into me—she was definitely cut. So no, I didn’t watch her perform. I refused to look at her. A little stubborn on my part, but I didn’t want to waste my time since I knew she would be first to go.
I gritted my teeth. “Fine.”
Janelle sighed. “Thank you.” She leaned into the mic without wasting a second and asked the center row to come forward.
Lex knew we’d been talking about her. It was written all over her body. Nerves. Doubt. She was filled with it all. I couldn’t wait to tell Janelle I’d told her so. I leaned in and got comfortable, and my eyes focused on Lex and only Le
x. Just as I’d promised.
Her intro was shaky. I could tell Lex was rattled from the argument that was clearly focused on her. Hell, we’d looked right at her in the heat of it all. I felt a little bad about that. I was planning to cut her, not to let her know she was a problem, by any means.
Now that our cover was blown and Janelle had me by the balls, I watched Lex rid her nerves with each step.
Just before the first beat of choreography began, Lex shook her entire body, and with it went her nerves. I watched the transformation, transfixed by the look of calm confidence that washed over her, as if she’d been put under a spell. And so had I.
I was so used to showing choreography in a way that was comfortable for me. I wasn’t a teacher. I’d never been able to teach someone how to glide and pop and click and lock or even follow the rhythmic score of a song the way I could. It was just the way I danced, thanks to years of learning alternate styles.
Those who’d worked with me knew to learn my choreography in small doses, to break down each step and study it. It was what I expected from the crowd today, but to fuck with them, to see who gave up the fastest, I gave it to them quickly, with every intention of going back and breaking it down until everyone was flowing in sync.
Lex not only hit every phantom beat but also performed the shit as if she’d done it a million times before. She had me literally gripping the edge of my seat and my heart beating as if I’d just run a 5K. Where the hell did this girl come from? The timid and awkward girl from the theater who practically cried when she called me a jerk couldn’t have knocked me on my ass harder than the one dancing in front of me to Demi Lovato’s “Confident.”
Even her strut forward was hot as sin, with her sharp hits and strong isolations, giving away every detail of her curved and toned body. It was obvious she’d danced her entire life. Her precision, her timing, and not only that but the fact that she was able to let go so early in the day and perform the shit out of my routine. Yeah, my dick was so fucking hard.
