Rene` POV:

"I can't believe we're really here auditioning! Ray, what if they choose us?"Ginny was so excited I wouldn't be surprised if she started to cry.

"You're auditioning. You might get chosen," I reminded her softly, stepping back as a line of dancers crossed my path. I was here strictly for moral support, as I promised her.

"It's complete rubbish. You're better than everybody here yet you refuse to audition," Ginny spat, flipping her pale red hair over her shoulder.

"You're the one obsessed with these One Direction people." I grumbled watching two girls stretch and giggle. I didn't know much about the band, I'd only been in England long enough to finish school and I'd had to work my ass off to get the dance scholar ship that landed me in the U.K. No time for fan-girling.

"Oh shut it. You even admitted they were cute." Ginny muttered, her eyes cutting towards the door every five seconds.

"Yes. I said they were cute. I didn't say I would sign up to doo-whop and shake my ass behind them during their tour." I got a few nasty looks for that one, from pretty much any girl within hearing range. Ginny pretended she couldn't hear me, the only indication that she had being the rosy tint of anger that colored her pale cheeks. I for one didn't understand. Ginny was beautiful. She had the body of a dancer, the personality of a comedian, and could get any guy she wanted. But she was hung up on this boy band.

"Alright everyone, are you about ready?" A man with a headset had walked in, a list in one hand, a walkie talkie in the other. Bodies around the room stiffened in anticipation, the giggling girls straightened up and began ringing their hands. "When I call your name, please tell me the number we've given you: Ginny Ashford." Of course, her name was first. Ginny quickly looked down at the paper that had been taped across her stomach.

"913," she answered in an uncharacteristically nervous voice. The man nodded, scribbled something down on his list, and began again. The room was packed full of girls so it took a while for it to get there but when it did I nearly choked to death on the water I'd been stealing from Ginny's bottle.

"Rene` Grint?" The man called, the same bored tolerance in his voice.

"394!" Ginny shouted before I could even finish coughing.

"Don't be mad Ray! I'm sorry! I can't do this without you. Please, please, please, just audition with me. You don't have to go on tour with them or anything, but please…" Ginny tried to say it all before I could recover, knowing I wouldn't let her explain. "And would it really be that awful if you were one of the dancers chosen? What do you really have waiting for you back in Detroit? An empty house and a note from your brothers telling you that they're off doing God know what but not to worry?"

She was right of course. Home had nothing for me since mom died. Bobby, Jerry, Jack, and Angel were all older, moving on with their own lives. They might just be my adopted brothers, but they were like blood to me. It would be tough to go home and have nothing to do but worry about them and miss mom. An eighteen year old girl can only handle so much.

"Listen, Ray, if we do this, if they pick us, we can spend a whole year together. We'll make money we'll have fun. You won't have to worry about getting a job waitressing or…" she lowered her voice considerably, whispering my deepest fear, "pole dancing god forbid." Just the thought sent shivers down my spine.

"Rene` we could do this." I was surprised by the intensity in her eyes, shocked to find that I was nodding.

Ginny's face broke into a smile. She knew she had won. And in all honesty she was right. I needed this but I'd been too blind, or too stubborn to see it. Having a steady job doing something I love beat the hell outta anything I'd find in Detroit.

I took the slightly crumbled square of paper she'd had hidden in her gym bag and placed it delicately across my stomach. I was immensely grateful we'd just come from the gym because I still had on my baggy yoga pants and T-shirt. It may have been a lot less sexy than the sports bras and booty shirts some of the braver girls had opted for, but it would work. I slipped the ponytail holder from my wrist and put my jet black hair in a messy bun. Maybe, if I got really lucky one of these boys would pick me for my exotic looks alone.

"Okay! Positions please!" The bald man with the headset called us all to attention and naturally about four long rows were formed in the room. An older woman long, frizzy brown hair stepped to the front of the room. The boys were nowhere in sight so I knew this was just round 1. My fears were confirmed when the frizzy haired woman spoke.

"Hello ladies, I'm Amber! If you've made it here then congratulations! We only accepted auditions from girls with outstanding recommendations from their teachers and the best audition tapes."

"How did you give them an audition tape of me without me knowing?" I hissed to Ginny. She shrugged her thin shoulders.

"Kinda videotaped you when you were warming up," she whispered back. This was one of the reasons Ginny and I clicked so well. We were both blunt, harshly unapologetic. I'd had to be though. Growing up in the hood with four bad-ass brothers didn't leave too much room for softness. Ginny, I think, was just born with it.

"Don't worry Ray. They loved you're audition tape and you weren't even trying." I smiled and focused my attention on Amber once more.

"I'm going to do a simple routine and you're going to copy me. We will try it a few times together and then you'll do it on your own. If Jimmy comes by and taps you on the shoulder—" she motioned absentmindedly to a middle aged man on the left. "Please move to the side without complaint. If you don't get tapped on the shoulder by the time the music stops, you've made it to round two." The way she said round two made a cold chill run down my spine.

"In the second round the boys will be choosing the winners, and unfortunately there will only be five girls chosen, one for each boy." Well great. Five teenage boys would be picking the dancers. They wouldn't be choosing based on talent. They'd pick us based on who has the biggest breasts and the smallest waist. Lovely.

The music started almost immediately. It was pop-ish and had a good beat but I'd never heard it before. Amber turned towards the wall length mirror, watching all of our reflections behind her as she started to sway her hips to the music. My body fell in time with hers, the way I moved my hips a little more like Shakira than her movements. The girl in front of me had short blond hair and her motions were very jerky. I had a feeling it was the nerves getting to her.

I felt bad, I wanted to make her relax but I had no idea how. Besides, if she was this nervous now she really had no business dancing on stage in front of thousands of people. I felt bad for even thinking it, but couldn't deny its truth.

"Now each winner will perform a different dance with the band member that chooses her. That's the point. They are trying to add some variety to their concerts. Because anyone of the boys could choose you, you have to be able to do all the dances. Now, copy me ladies." Amber folded her body almost half in a solo dip, one hand stretched to the ground as if longing to touch. I recognized the move easily; I'd used it in one of my contemporary routines my freshman year. I heard Ginny's trilling laugh as she completed the move as effortlessly as me.

"Very good," Amber praised us, the only two who had already copied her. The girl with the short hair in front of me fell over and Jimmy came to tap her on the shoulder.

"No! No! Please I can do this!" she said frantically, scrambling up from the floor. As Jimmy shook his head, jutting his thumb to the side of the room, my heart ached for her. Tears were falling freely from her eyes all for boys who probably won't even care that she was here. I wondered if they'd at least give her an autograph if they passed her on her way out. Obsessions never made sense to me. When I was little I was too busy getting shuffled from foster home to foster home to fall in love with someone on TV I'd never get the chance to meet. But I imagine falling for a face and being able to create the rest in your mind would be a hard thing to let go of. You could make the perfect man in your head and you'd never know if they weren't as amazing as you anticipated they would be. The recipe for disaster.

The girl released a strangled sort of sob and all but crawled over to the side of the room.

"Rene`! Pay attention." Ginny saw my eyes following the poor girl to the corner and snapped me back to attention. I nodded to her, following the next move Amber demonstrated with as much ease as the first one. As hard as I could I couldn't shake the feeling that I was taking someone's dream. Or maybe, I was saving it. If they never got to meet these boys then they couldn't be let down. People always let you down.

Liam POV:

"I am way too excited," Niall admitted, bouncing on the heels of his feet to peer through the small square of glass on the door to the dance studio.

"Me too. What are they looking like Niall? Any cute ones?" Louis asked, elbowing me playfully in the ribs. Part of me didn't want Niall to answer. I loved the boys, really I did but sometimes I hated the way they talked about woman. How easily they reduced their worth to the length of their legs and their skill at sucking cock. Niall wasn't as bad; I had a little more faith in him.

"Really, really hot man. There are two in the back I'd give my left arm to have a go at." Niall answered, making Harry and Louis groan in appreciation.

"Go on! What do they look like?" Zayn demanded, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"One's got reddish hair and some freckles. I'm having a really hard time keeping my eyes off her arse. And the other one boys, oh my God," he moaned, giving a dramatic pause. "She's got black hair. She looks like she's like mixed with white and Latina 'cause she's got a wicked tan. Body like I've never seen…bloody hell." By this point Louis has shoved him away from the door so he could get a better look himself.

Upon apparently spotting the pair Niall had pointed out he released a low whistle.

"Wow, what I wouldn't give for an hour alone with her," Louis said cheekily.

"Which one? Kinda got a thing for red heads me self," Niall murmured, subtly asking the rest of us to let him have her.

"No worries mate. She's all yours," Louis nodded.

"Hey don't go promising things," Harry protested, earning a nod of agreement from Zayn.

"Why so quiet Liam? Not gunna put a bid in for a girl?" Zayn asked me. He may have been the calmest of the other boys but he still had his moments where he would slip up. Like right now for example. I knew he was dying to take a look through the door. His ego was holding him back though I'd imagine.

"Even you have to want a hot dancer. We're going to be spending hours upon hours with these girls." He muttered.

"Then she should have a good personality." There was a small silence as each of the boys looked at me like I'd morphed into an alien. Crap. I keep forgetting. Its statements like this that left me a victim at school. I was always bullied, nearly expelled for fights because I had a tendency to speak my mind. Other teenage boys rarely liked my opinions.

"I guess a nice bum wouldn't hurt either," I added hastily. They all laughed, Zayn slapped me on the back and I forced a smile.

A few minutes later a man stepped outside the dance studio. He was bald, the lights overhead gleaming off his scalp.

"Hello boys," he greeted us, rubbing his plump stomach. "We've got about ten ladies left for you to choose from. They've all already proven they can learn steps quickly and they're all very good. And may I just say, we've got quite a few lookers in the bunch," he said with a carrying laugh and a wink in our direction. Harry and Louis laughed and high fived.

"So we've got it set up so that each of the girls will perform separately for you. It's the same routine but they're allowed to add their own adjustments if they would like too. The order in which you will get to choose is as follows: Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, and Zayn Malik."

Zayn swore under his breath.

"Damn Harry gets to choice before me," Niall complained to me. He didn't seem particularly concerned with me being able to select a dancer before him. Apparently he didn't feel like I was a threat to him getting his red head.

"I'm sure Harry will stay away from your ginger mate."

"Yeah, he'll go for that other girl for sure." Niall seemed to be reassuring himself, and still was when the bald man spoke again.

"Alrighty then. We're ready for you boys now," he boomed, lowering the walkie talkie from his ear. When he opened the door a stream of teary eyed girls exited, there had to be at least thirty of them. Some screamed when they saw us, one jumped into my arms and gave me a bone crushing hug. Others just cried harder and rushed past us. My heart went out to them; I was tempted to ask if I couldn't just choose one of them anyway. I was rubbing the back of the girl who was hugging me, soft soothing circles as she sobbed into the hollow of my neck.

"It's alright darlin'," I whispered into her ear, trying to hug her back just as passionately as she was hugging me, it was the least I could do. She had a short, pixie, blond hair cut and her mascara was running down her tear tracked cheeks.

"I r-r-r-really w-w-w-w-wanted to w-w-w-win," she cried.

"I'm sure you are a lovely dancer. Don't give up." The others had already gone into the studio but I couldn't just leave her. She was a wreck.

"Mr. Payne?" I looked up at the woman who'd called my name. She had damaged, brown hair and sweat running down her forehead. She tapped the imaginary watch on her wrist. "We're kind of on a schedule."

"Are you going to be alright sweetheart?" The girl still clung to me and I didn't have the heart to pull her off.

"Mr. Payne?" The woman said again, sharper this time.

"Hey! Give him a minute would you? Damn!" the voice that addressed the woman was American which shocked me a little more than it should have. Obviously it wasn't one of the boys so it had to be one of the dancers. Pretty gutsy. Very gutsy really.

"Excuse me? Would you like to leave too?"

"No!" I practically shouted. There was a rather long pause since my four band mates had shouted protests the same time as I did. It was very clear the woman was no longer in control here. The blonde slowly unwrapped herself from around me, aware she was making a scene, and scurried down the hallway. When I finally entered the room I think it's fair to say everything was sufficiently awkward. There were ten dancers lining the back wall to the studio. It wasn't hard to find the one who'd spoken; the frizzy haired woman was staring daggers at her. And my God, she was every bit as beautiful as the boys had said.

Her hair was up in a way that was just sloppy enough to be deemed unimaginably sexy. Her skin was an intoxicating copper color and her baggy clothes did nothing to hide the striking body underneath. She was the only girl I'd ever seen whose very essence could beg you to touch her. She was panting slightly, from anger or exertion I did not know. I'd imagined my perfect girl before but my imagination could have never come up with anything as perfect as this, as her.

"Hi, I'm Liam." I hadn't even realized I'd spoken but it's like my mouth had started working before my brain. The girl looked from me to the girl next to her in confusion. I heard Zayn snicker behind me.

"Um…hey," she said lamely, hiding a smile. I'd just made a complete fool of myself. But only part of my brain was aware of that. The other half was just desperate to know her. I was still staring at her, unable to make my eyes as much as blink. The girl gave an uncomfortable little half wave and something made me snap out of it. I laughed half heartedly and fell into line with the rest of the boys, who were now silently cracking up. Harry was laughing so hard he was literally wheezing. I guess I understood. That was incredibly stupid, even for me.

"Well ladies I suppose you know who these lovely lads are. One direction: Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, and Zayn Malik. And boys, I am Amber," the woman said briskly. "The first lady to dance for you will be…" she looked to the man with the headset.

"Number 913, Ginny Ashford." He supplied. The girl with red hair stepped up. She was shaking a bit but I tried to smile, show her we were all on her side. I heard Niall's sharp intake of breath, willing no one else to pick her before him. I knew Harry heard it too. He was a good guy, he wouldn't pick a girl Niall wanted this badly.

Ginny walked to the center of the room, her eyes flicking briefly to us and then to the stereo. She nodded quickly to show she was ready. The music started and she folded over, and then slipped to the ground. The movements flowed together so well they almost looked like they were one. In the end she was very good, only a few small missteps showing how nervous she really was. None of the other boys were really as interested in dance as I was so I doubt they even noticed. When she finished she straightened herself out, smiled at us and then practically ran back to her place in the line of girls. The girl I still couldn't take my eyes off of gave Ginny's hand a small squeeze.

All of us clapped respectfully except Niall who wolf whistled and whooped loudly. She giggled and winked at him. Niall, being well…Niall, feigned fainting and we all laughed even harder.

"Yes, yes, that was pretty good. Next up…"

Rounds of girls were called after that. Becky, Linda, Jasmine, and Kadyna were all good but repetitive. I felt Harry perk up a bit when the sixth girl was called.

"Number 819, Claire Demonte." The girl who stepped forward was blonde as she could be. She was the shortest of the bunch with her hair made up into spunky little curls that were falling limp after the long days work. She was right up Harry's alley.

Her routine was much the same as the first girls but a lot flirtier. I almost felt a bit awkward watching her because of how sensual her dance became. However, when she was done we all clapped and she dropped back into place.

Amber called two more girls, Caroline and Silvia. Every time a name was called I found myself mulling over it in my mind wondering if it belonged to my little American girl. But Caroline was a brown haired girl with a belly button ring and Silver was a slightly chubby girl with braces. All four of these dances were lovely, but the same. The most original was Ginny's by far but it still kind of felt like we were replaying a movie again and again.

"Number 394, Rene` Grint." The man called once Silver had returned to her spot. I watched the swell of dancers carefully, my breath catching a little when she moved to the center of the room. Rene` Grint I tested the name in my mind, thinking I'd never heard a name so wonderful. Then again, by this point I was a little bias. Even when she was motionless, waiting for the music to start playing she was graceful. Her eyes flashed to mine, they were a beautiful honey brown color that left a sweet taste in my mouth. Her mouth twitched in that sexy almost smile way of hers and the music started. Instantly, the dance was fascinatingly different than the others. At first the steps were the same. She folded backwards, her fingers stretched to the ground almost, but not quite touching it. Then, the dance changed. She locked her arms into her body as if she'd finally grasped what she'd been reaching for and then jumped up and down, her legs constricting and straightening in two sharp stomps that went perfectly with the music.

The room was deadly silent as she did what looked like a cartwheel but her hands never touched the floor, her arms still hugged tightly to her chest. This dance was powerful, it made you ache. Slowly, as if it pained her she opened her arms in short, purposeful little jerks. The message was clear: if you love something set it free. But it was hard to watch. I wanted, with everything in me, for her to have what she so desperately longed for. But then the music stopped and the agonized look on her face transformed into a little smirk. It was endlessly quiet. We could have heard a pen drop.

When it became clear no one was going to recover she sent a curt nod in our direction and went back to stand next to Ginny.

"I said you could tweak the routine not completely change it!" Amber finally snapped. That woke us all up. Everyone was clapping, even the other dancers. One girl had actual tears in her eyes.

"You should be disqualified," Amber was trying to shout over the noise. It took her a considerably long time to quiet us down and by then she seemed to have lost her fire and simply called the last girl, Trina, to the 'stage.' She didn't seem too thrilled to be following René's performance. I didn't blame the girl. When she'd finished she received a much less enthusiastic round of applause that I tried to make up for by clapping harder.

"Okay thank you everyone. You all did a wonderful job. Now the boys have very busy schedules and they, and the dancers they choose, need to be ready to learn a new dance right away because they will be going on tour next week." I could tell by the widening of eyes and gasps from the dancers that this was sooner than any of them expected.

"Okay so let's get started. Liam you're first."

"Well all of you were great," I began. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape from my ribcage. Half the boys would hate me for picking her, but how could I not?

"Oh just get on with it and pick the hot American," Harry said loudly. There were a few little bursts of laughter from about the room and I wringed the back of my neck in embarrassment.

"Yeah, alright, Rene`," I muttered, looking down.