A Chorus Line
"None of this ballet shit anymore."
-My second period teacher
Disclaimer: I don't own Dance Academy or A Chorus Line.
Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch...Again!
Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch...Again!
Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch...Again!
Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch...Right!
That connects with...
Turn, turn, out, in, jump, step,
Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch.
Got it?... Going on. And...
Turn, turn, touch, down, back, step,
Pivot, step, walk, walk, walk.
Right! Let's do the whole combination,
Facing away from the mirror.
From the top. A-Five, six, seven, eight!
Tara tried to regain her breath. This new experience was exhilaration yet had her metaphorically over the boxes of her old Pointe shoes. This was an audition for a show not related to school, her first. All of the other dancers seemed so much better than her, especially that girl in the front who looked good for her age. Whatever that age was. Here nothing of what she had learned in ballet class applied. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for a stage of over 50 some at dancers all wanting the same thing, to be part of the chorus line. For the first time, she felt truly free. No Ms. Raine to criticize every move, no Ethan watching her, no backstabbing friends, no ex-boyfriend she still held feelings for, nothing.
God, I hope I get it.
I hope I get it.
How many people does he need?
How many people does he need?
God, I hope I get it.
I hope I get it.
How many boys, how many girls?
How many boys, how many...?
Look at all the people!
At all the people.
How many people does he need?
How many boys, how many girls?
How many people does he...?
Tara was sure she had the same thoughts as all the other dancers. They really needed this job. She felt herself do the combination. She wasn't looking in the mirror, so she had no idea what she looked like. Now she understood what was meant by freedom is slavery. Eventually the group she was sorted into was sent backstage to reherse the choreography. She overheard a girl saying something to her friend. It sounded like
I really need this job.
Please God, I need this job.
I've got to get this job.
Man was the girl desperate. From what Tara had seen the girl was a much better dancer than herself so she now felt worried that she would not get the role. Soon enough her group was called back up to do the ballet combination. The choreographer gave the other dancers tips, but not her. This made her remember Abagail's words when she said that only the favorites got the attention. Then all of her worries about the audition crashed down on her.
God, I really blew it!
I really blew it!
How could I do a thing like that?
How could I do a thing like...
Now I'll never make it!
I'll never make it!
He doesn't like the way I look.
He doesn't like the way I dance.
He doesn't like the way I...
The next group went up. They were fantastic. Some of the boys rivaled those of the academy. All too soon all of the auditioners stood in a line and numbers were called. "Number 75, 45, 65…" The director had called her number, 45. She went upstage with the rest of the numbers and steeled herself for the rejection that would follow. She felt her eyes betray her as they began to grow glassy despite her efforts. "Thank you. The rest of you, I'm sorry." What! Tara could not believe her luck, she was not rejected. She ran to get her resume and headshot, but was this really her?
Who am I anyway?
Am I my resume?
That is a picture of a person I don't know.
What does he want from me?
What should I try to be?
So many faces all around, and here we go.
I need this job, oh God, I need this show.
"Number 45 come here please." Said the director. She obeyed and he said, "Tara Webster is it? Well, Webster you dance ballet exceptionally well, but darling this isn't ballet. In other words, no more of this ballet shit because this is musical theatre. I see you attend the Dance Academy. You use those experiences to help you express emotion, dance out Louise, dance out. Remember telling the story is what is important, not technique or pretending to feel. Cut the crap and we'll talk."
After getting her rehersal schedule, she exited the theatre. She had told no one about going to the audition. She felt euphoric, so she began to stroll towards the beach. Unfortunately, she saw Christian there surfing. She felt the familiar pang in her heart as she remembered that he had once been hers and her his. She sighed and walked towards a bench. She rested her hear on her palm and began to reminisce what the director had told her. What she had done just went against everything she had ever been taught, but the new experience had taught her how to feel her movements and that each one had a meaning. I wonder what he means by dancing out? "Hey! Tara!" She heard Sammy yell from where he and Christian were. Oh damn, she hadn't seen Sammy with Christian, just Christian. He was too painful to remember so she decided to ignore him and Sammy. She got up and just kept on walking.
Points to whomever finds the references to: Gypsy, who the aging dancer is, who the director is, and why the director calls her darling.
