by Cynthia Dane
The song finished. Olivia came to an abrupt stop in front of the panel. Everyone was quiet – except for José, who muttered while he picked up Olivia’s shoe and slapped it on the table in front of him. Oh my God! All the color drained from Olivia’s face. Shit, shit, shit!
She had already resigned herself to the fact that she would not be getting the part. Yet now here she was, shoeless, and more than likely about to get a blemish on her record. Someone on the panel would talk about this, and then word would get out to the other candidates that someone was stupid enough to wear those kinds of shoes. What had Olivia been thinking? This wasn’t the first time she had a shoe come off while dancing so enthusiastically. One would think that she would know better by now! What, did she start dancing yesterday?
“I’m so sorry!” Olivia shuffled up to the table and grabbed her shoe before an angry man could destroy it. She hopped on one foot while she put the shoe back on the other, her eyes darting between faces, each of them judging her in their own way. None of those eyes hurt her as much as Rick’s did, however. He looked exactly as he did when Olivia started dancing. He was checked out the whole time? That was more insulting than an old dance instructor insinuating that Olivia only got into dance for the cute guys.
She apologized again, grabbed her jacket, and darted out of the room. There was barely time to hear the door shut behind her before she was halfway out of the building, aware that every other woman at the audition was staring at her as if her ass had been on fire.
***
The door had barely swung shut when Rick slapped his hand on the table and finally released his compressed laughter.
He was the only one laughing. Even so, he couldn’t stop. The image of that young woman’s shoe falling off her foot and smacking José right in the pretentious face was too good to pass up. I have never seen anything like that before! The dozens of women who had come and gone during the audition did lots of things to make themselves stick out in his memory. Some of them could do intricate dance moves that only masters could perform on a regular basis. Others wore revealing clothing that advertised more than Rick was willing to take on for this music video. But he could safely say that no one danced so hard and so vigorously that her shoe left its mark on someone in the audience.
“I don’t see what’s so damn funny.” José was still rubbing his face, his pen down on his clipboard and his expression anything but amused. “I highly doubt you would like to get practically kicked in the face.”
“Come on, I’m sure you’ve had worse happen in practice studios.” Rick was still chuckling. As much as he respected and admired his lead choreographer, he could really have a stick up his ass sometimes. José already came to these auditions grumbling into his coffee cup and talking about how he wanted to get everything over with. By the third girl that day he was bemoaning the state of the art of dance in today’s society. By the tenth girl he was making up excuses to go to the bathroom. By the twentieth? Anarchy in our midst. Rick had to admit that he was kind of bored by the time Olivia entered the room. One could only watch so many auditions before their brain began to melt. Yet he had to admit that the young woman who ran out of the room definitely stuck out in his mind now. There’s a story to tell at the next party.
Finally Rick’s good attitude about the event passed on to the other men sitting at the table. They laughed, albeit uneasily. “I once had a guy crash right into the table here,” the producer to Rick’s left said. “Guy completely overshot his jump and nearly took my head off my shoulders. Consider yourself lucky, Juarez.”
José muttered about inconsiderate young women and suggested that they all take another bathroom break. They still had two more girls to audition before they got lunch, but even Rick was ready to call it a wrap. Do we really need to sit through a whole afternoon of more auditions? Everyone had more or less already decided that Clara from earlier was clearly the greatest choice available. She had the pedigree as the daughter of one of America’s top Latin dance couples. Although she came highly recommended by the agency, Rick insisted on auditions. One never knew when they might find new talent. Even if said talent had a habit of sticking a rogue shoe up José’s nose. “Honestly, we should hire that last girl.”
Everyone at the table looked at Rick, some of them with bemusement in their eyes, and others tsking in their throats. He knew what they were thinking. “Rick’s being an ass again.” Not his fault that he had a bit of a reputation when it came to wanting to take on the least likely of candidates in anything. Okay, so maybe it really was his fault. Could any of them blame him? That was hilarious!
“You all saw how well she danced before the incident.” Rick knew he wasn’t the only one who admired the way Olivia included a few of his favorite moves in her routine. Plus the way she moved…she was a bit rough around the edges, as expected of a young woman from a small city with little dance culture, but she had something that Rick always admired – passion. He had known hundreds of women through his short time in the industry who were technically fantastic on the dance floor, but had so little heart for their art that it was like watching a robot attempt to perform Swan Lake. Rick admitted that Clara had both skill and passion, but she was the easy and safe choice. Since when did he ever go with easy or safe? “Look, I liked Clara a lot too. I don’t doubt that she would make an excellent star in the music video. We’re going to need other dancers too, however. Have any of them been casted yet?” He looked to José for answers.
The man shook his head. “You know we don’t usually do that until the week before. Fewer flakes that way.”
“Why can’t we hire some of the other women here? It’s not like there’s a lack of talent.” He didn’t mean some of the physical talents, either. I remember that one cute blonde who jiggled every time she spun on one foot. Every man had that one thing that appealed to him. Apparently Rick liked pirouettes.
“Try using your head instead of your dick for once,” José shot back. “Just because you think they’re hot doesn’t mean I’m going to choreograph them.”
“What’s a music video without a bunch of hot women?” A few of the other guys responded to Rick’s question with some chuckles. They knew what he was talking about!
“If I agree to hire some of the women we saw today,” José began, glaring at Rick from the end of the table, “will we be able to cancel the rest and go home? I’m tired of being here.”
Everyone glanced at one another. After some considerate frowns they began nodding, Rick the most of all. “We can definitely go home.”
“Fine, but don’t hire the one with the slippery shoe. Who knows what she’ll smack me with next.”
“What, like a smile?” Rick closed his folder and scooted back in his seat. “Heaven forbid.”
No matter what José said, he couldn’t make Rick turn back on his original plans. From the moment Olivia’s pretty shoe went flying through the air, he knew that she would be the one for his music video. Maybe not as a star attraction dancing with him in front of the camera, but definitely as a spirited addition to the back row. The more he considered it, the more he wanted it to happen. I don’t want boring people on my stage. Anyone could hire a talented dancer. Rick wanted a woman who would wow the audience… and him.
2
Nobody, least of all Olivia, should have been surprised to find the music video set dark, wet, and almost too hot to handle in her costume.
They expect me to dance like this? She was in a tight, leather outfit that had been tailored to her body but hardly felt comfortable. When she showed up a week ago to have her fitting, she thought she would be in street clothes or at least bright, glittery clothing that would look ridiculous on set but come out great on camera. Who am I kidding? Nobody in a music video looks comfortable in what they’re wearing. Olivia wondered if those same backup dancers even had a clue that they would be there at all.
When she received the call two weeks ago that she had been selected to appear in the video, she could hardly beli
eve her ears. Of course, she thought that she had been chosen for the lead role that she originally auditioned for. For the briefest moment, she imagined herself dancing with Rick to the looping tune of his latest single. When she was informed that she was hired as a backup dancer, Olivia was a bit crestfallen, but not beaten. After all, she was the girl who practically kicked the choreographer in the face during her audition! I was absolutely certain that I would never hear from them again. Now here she was, on the set of her first major music video.
Olivia’s role was small, but that didn’t mean she didn’t take it seriously. All roles were important whether they were big or small. Once she mastered her choreography in a single day – this time without losing her shoe in José’s face – she moved on to learning the other roles. When she had some time, Olivia sat in on the practice sessions between Clara and Rick. For a whole day Olivia studied Clara’s movements. Indeed, she was incredibly talented. Beautiful to boot. There was no question as to why they hired her above anyone else… just watching the way her body flowed through the air whenever Rick lifted or dipped her toward the floor made Olivia realize that she still had a long way to go before she became a master dancer. Nevertheless, she committed Clara’s movements to memory and spent some private time in her local studio replicating the movements. By the day of the video shooting she had memorized the whole thing.
Too bad she wasn’t there to play Clara’s role. She was there to spin around and jump in the background with four other women selected from the audition. Most of them grumbled that they weren’t chosen for the lead role, and Olivia understood to a point. Then she realized that the real grievance came from the fact that none of them were getting to dance with Rick. Is that all they care about? Sure, he was a formidable dancer from what Olivia understood, but the point of this gig wasn’t to get to touch a famous guy!
“Places!” the director called, settling in his chair behind the lead camera. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us, so let’s get started!”
The first shots filmed that day were mostly of the backup dancers. Most of what Olivia filmed were extraneous shots that may or may not be used in the final cut. If they needed filler shots between different takes, then she may have a few more seconds’ worth of appearances that she could show off to friends and family. The best way to get more shots was to impress the director with her skills. If she could outshine the other girls, then that would mean not only a nice recommendation for future projects, but the chance to put down on her résumé that she got so many seconds in a high profile music video. Even then, Olivia was calculating the business end of things. If I’m going to make a career in dance, I have to know where I stand.
An hour passed, and Olivia barely had the chance to show off her skills. She didn’t realize that there would be so many cuts and requests to do things differently. It took her twenty minutes to film five seconds of movement to the director’s liking. Naturally she was the most put out from the five girls. The others didn’t seem to care at all how long it took them to film the opening of the music video. They were more concerned with waiting for Rick to come out of the dressing room, which he promptly did at the top of the hour.
Olivia wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Everyone else was dressed as if they were in a futuristic video, but Rick wore nothing more special than a pair of distressed jeans, a thin white T-shirt, and a leather jacket that did more than show off his fine physique. What he lacked in fancy, however, he more than made up for in overall style. That’s a man ready to perform. The stubble was still there from two weeks ago, except now a stylist had taken to it, making sure it was even all around and not so dark that it looked menacing to the viewers at home. Rick’s hair was slicked back, but still retained some volume. Part of his sex appeal included tufts of hair that would move with his dances. Women all over the world swooned over his dark chestnut hair and the light tan of his skin.
He is pretty good looking. Olivia had never really looked at Rick Rodriguez before. Her only motive for auditioning for the music video was to have the chance to dance for such a wide audience and to put it on her résumé. She wasn’t like half the girls there, concerned only with getting close to Rick and maybe having him say something nice to her. What did Olivia know about modern music? She was the girl playing Chilean music from the 1970s on her iPod.
What the other backup dancers were thinking was quickly crushed when Clara walked out of the dressing room. They mumbled that she was too pretty for words, and none of them stood a chance against her when it came to Rick’s affection. Is he single? Even if he wasn’t publicly dating someone, the odds of Rick Rodriguez being totally single were far-fetched. Did these girls seriously think that they stood a chance that day?
Even Olivia didn’t stand a chance when it came to the jealousy bug. Not jealous that Clara got to dance with Rick, but jealous that she was so pretty. Not often did Olivia feel down about her appearance – she was usually too busy dancing to take note of how she looked in the mirror.
Clara was tall, thin, but athletic. Long light brown hair was slicked back into a high ponytail that sashayed with every dramatic movement of her hips. Like Rick, she wore denim and cotton. Yet unlike Rick, she had stilettos five inches high, which made her legs wobble with every step. How was she supposed to dance in those? Olivia could only shake her head as she and the other dancers were asked to sit off to the side for the next part of filming.
“We’re going to do the dance shots before the close-up singing,” the director said from his chair. “That way you’ll be nice and sweaty for those moments.”
Rick laughed, which surprised Olivia since she wasn’t expecting such a jovial guy on set. It was still early enough in the morning that a rock star like him could be hungover or whatever such types did to stay up all night. Yet here Rick was, smiling, alert, and ready to dance. Olivia could appreciate a man like that. Maybe I should check out his music. Maybe sometime after she stopped checking out his body.
“Let’s get started!” After the director’s instructions, Rick took Clara by the hand and pulled her toward him in an extravagant movement that would make most audiences swoon. Yet the look on Clara’s face was not one of mirth or frivolity. Her lips were taut and her eyes unmoving. Botox? Probably. Olivia saw enough among some of the other dancers she knew. Personally, she never saw the point of it. People weren’t going to look at her face. They were there to see her body move.
Both Clara and Rick got into starting position. Their elbows were locked together, knees bent, and Clara’s head bent dramatically to the left. Her somber expression did not do much to inspire Olivia off to the side. Rick was also serious now that they were getting ready to film, and he implored Clara to do a few practice moves with him while they waited for the camera and lighting to be fully set up. As men and women dressed in black climbed up and down the sides of the set with various lights and reflectors, Rick and Clara slowly snapped from one side to the other, Clara’s head looking like a bobble from such little movement. That’s strange. Olivia had to be asked to move since she was so caught up in the spectacle and didn’t see a staff person wanting to climb up the wall next to her.
“All right!” The director clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. Rick held still and Clara went back to their starting position. The set fell quiet, the lights were shining and the camera started rolling. The hush was broken when the director called, “Cue the music!” and the first few bars of “Midnight Tango” thumped in the air.
It was the same tune that had played at the audition, only with his lyrics included. Olivia was surprised to hear that deep, ardent voice fill the room even though its owner did not open his mouth. The director told him to start dancing, and right away the room was swept up in the entanglement of dance.
Holy moly. Olivia sat up to attention as Rick’s body snapped back and forth in the beginning walk of the couple’s dance. His arms were like liquid in the humid air, and his hips easily moved back and forth as he led Clara around the s
pace they were allotted. That poor girl, on the other hand, looked like she would rather be anywhere but in Rick’s arms. Was she directed to look that way? The song’s lyrics were about exploring sexual freedom through movement. Was Clara supposed to represent a prudish woman that Rick was going to open up through the power of his dance? That didn’t seem very sexy right now.
Apparently the director agreed, for he quickly called cut after only twenty seconds. “What was that?” he asked Clara as she detached from Rick. “You look like you’re about to shit yourself.” Behind the camera, José looked up and shook his head with a sigh. Clearly this was not what Clara was supposed to do. Come to think of it, when Olivia learned the moves for that role, she didn’t hear or see anything that implied the dancer was supposed to look like she was on the verge of spitting on someone’s grave.
Sweating, Clara apologized for messing up the first take and offered to do it again. Everyone got back into their places, the director called for action, and Rick and Clara went back to trying to dance to his song.
José counted on his fingers each beat as it passed. His eyes were locked on the footsteps of the couple dancing in front of the camera, and not so much what their faces were doing. That was for the director to scrutinize.
“I would do so much better than this,” one of the girls next to Olivia said. “Why is she considered so great again? She doesn’t even smile.”
The director called cut once more. Clara pushed herself out of Rick’s arms, her stiletto heels uneven on the floor. “I’m sorry!” Her face was pale, although sweat poured from her forehead. Rick took a step back. Although they both danced with the same amount of energy, he hadn’t broken a sweat at all. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Someone get her some water.” José took off his headphones and stood up like he was going to do it himself. When nobody moved, Olivia went to the refreshment table and grabbed a Solo cup to fill with purified water. She brought it over to Clara, but the woman had barely taken it when she made a face so sour that Olivia instinctively knew to move out of the way.
