Chapter Eleven

Dance auditions for the fall musical continue, and so do Candice's not-so-secret peeks at the choreographer.

We’re in the midst of attempting the half-paced execution of this woman’s choreography when the music shuts off. I place my hands in my pockets, listening to the heavy breathing of most of the people around me. I’m breathing too, but I’m not huffing and puffing the way several of them are.

                “I know it’s just an audition, but this is a huge show. If you can’t dance for five minutes, how are you going to sing and dance through an entire production?” The choreographer seems concerned, and she keeps looking to me. Crap. “Look at this girl, what’s your name sweetheart?” She extends her hand out towards me and everyone else looks in the direction that hand is indicating. Major crap.

                “Candice,” I say it as quietly as possible, not because I don’t want her to hear me, but because - no, let’s be honest, it’s because I don’t want her to hear me.

                “I’m sorry, just one more time.”

                “Candice,” I repeat it a little louder, still rather timid as the unexpected attention sends Candy Corn flying right back into hiding.

                It’s a big dark room with eight sweaty and nervous teenagers and an adult. Scratch that, three adults. It’s not until I’m trying to look at anything but the choreographer and my peers that I see two shadowy figures sitting up in the small lighting booth. Probably the director and someone else, but I’m not sure who that someone else is.

                “Candice here is might be stumbling a bit with the steps but she is hitting every move with one-hundred and ten percent effort and she is still breathing just fine. Breath control is so very important not just with vocals but with dancing and with the entire show.” Before I can process anything, the slightly older female is standing right in front of me, eclipsing the spotlight that was blinding me just moments before.

                That light now backlights her hair, making her appear almost angelic with a glow around her head. However, her face is completely in shadow, like a mysterious force that’s just entered my life. Come to think of it, I haven’t been able to make out her face all that well since we’ve entered this room.

                She starts to lift her hand, and I can feel my knees start shaking. Nothing is registering in my brain as she puts her hand on my ponytail. Taking a firm hold of the hair tie, she yanks on it a few times before my hair is free of its confines. As my long mane-like hair falling down to my shoulders, my eyes fall to that mane. “Let your hair down and relax. You’ve got this.”  

                I take a deep breath as she smiles and saunters away, back to the front of the theatre. I turn to look at Shannon whose face tells me she’s just as confused as I am. ‘What the hell was that?’ she mouths to me. I just shrug my shoulders, my mind still reeling from this dreamlike experience we all seem to be in. Between the dim lights, strange happenings and our very future up to the end of November hanging in the balance; it’s a surreal collection of seconds turned into minutes.

                “Take a deep breath, everyone. Don’t forget to breathe while you’re dancing, too. It’s okay to breathe! Ready? Five, six. Five, six, seven, eight.”

                The music plays through the speakers once more. Now that her curious green eyes aren’t on me anymore, I don’t feel self-conscious. In this dark room, even with the heat of the spotlight, I am able to imagine myself in my room. Apparently that’s all it takes for me to flip the switch from Candice to Candy.

                With more confidence than I’ve felt in a long time, I hit each step without tripping, the dull heals of my shoes never smacking the concrete. Instead, my toes carry me gracefully across the black floor, each pop and twist of my body as precise as the woman who taught me the moves just minutes ago. My hair whipping around with my body is a freeing feeling. Every time I crane my neck, my long locks swing through the air.

I don’t realize that the brunette is not doing the dance with us until he music stops and I stop too, my eyes falling on her eyes which are locked on me. She starts clapping slowly. “That is how you do this number! Now, it was only half-speed. But if all of you can give me what she just gave me, I think we’ll be seeing all of you up on the main stage.”

                She has us repeat the dance at half-speed once more before taking it to full speed. After all of the repetition, I finally feel like I almost know the terminology for the moves that I’m executing.

                Everyone does a decent job, and I feel pretty good about my performance too. I’m not classically trained. I’m not any kind of trained, but I still feel happy when I finish. I can’t remember the last time dancing felt like this.  There’s just something about dancing in unison with other people that makes you feel stronger and more confident.

                “Job well done, guys!” She applauds again before walking over to a chair and picking up a small purple notebook. She scribbles a few things in pencil while licking her lip before tucking the notepad between her arm and side like a football and giving us a nod. “You are all done, best of luck with your vocal auditions tomorrow! Rest those voices and remember: breathe!”

                She turns and walks up the small staircase to get into the ironically dark lighting booth. She’s out of sight, but certainly not out of mind. I don’t know what it is about her, be it her impressive technique while dancing or her appearance over all, I can’t seem to get her out of my head. It’s not like a crush, I don’t feel the same way about her that I feel about Adam Shepherd. Maybe it’s jealousy, maybe she’s my new inspiration. All I know is: my mind won’t quit.

                “Earth to Candy Corn! Hello! Hi!” I blink repeatedly and when I turn to look at my friend she’s clapping in my face. “Let’s go, the next group is getting ready to come in.” Her waxed brows furrow down and inwards. “What’s with the face?”

                “What? What face?” Typically when I make faces, it’s with the most thought out of intentions, but this time I really don’t realize I’m making any kind of face until she points it out. I’m…smirking. “Oh.”

                “You’ve got a girl crush on the choreographer!” Shannon practically sings out before the back of my hand connects with her abdomen, causing her to grunt.

                “Would you pipe down!?” I start giggling before I grab her arm and pull her out of the small theatre and into the hallway with me. “I do not have a crush on her, okay?”

                “Candy, baby, it’s cool. She’s a babe! I wouldn’t blame you if ya’ did. S**t, I’d probably go lezbo for her, too.” Shannon laughs again as she shakes her head and begins walking off down the hallway. “Girl crush. Ah-ha!” With the most over exaggerated and unnecessary of laughs she dances onward, leaving me standing there with a somewhat of a flustered expression on my face.

                Not a lesbian. Still not a crush! 

Reviews

[Lalochezia]

Girl crush, I like this one ;)

A good chapter and one that cannot have been easy to write with that much action. Only the scene with the woman freeing Candy's hair feels a little weird. How can anyone stand so close to a person in order to be able to free their hair from its confines and still keep her face hidden, even with the aid of a spot light?

The fact that she would just approach an auditioning student to do that at all seems a littel unrealistic. Perhaps you could have someone else do that for Candy?