Chapter 4 – In Focus

"Bo! Concentrate!" Mr Phillips called out.

Bo frowned, in the middle of the group routine. Her mind had wandered to Jessie, wondering how her auditions were going. She was sure that a whole day of dancing at such a level would be very taxing. Even though she was third year dance herself, she couldn't imagine dancing at anything higher skilled. Somewhere like a dance academy would be a incredible experience. It was just a shame she had to be so careful after her accident the year before.

Why had Jessie even been inclined to send papers through for an audition anyway? Hadn't she got enough to do as a second year dance student here at Lamar? She wouldn't be able to accept any place at the theatre school if she was offered it. She'd have to complete second year first and then leave college early and treat the new course as a form of scholarship. It really didn't make much sense to Bo.

"You're awfully distracted, Bo," Bo turned to see Genevieve, one of the other members of the dance troupe. Petite and wiry, with short dark bobbed hair and pale skin, she was one of the few third years Bo had regular interaction with across her classes.

The instructor called for a short break at that moment, and Bo walked over to the mirror at the side of the room, Genevieve following her.

"Sorry Gen. I guess my head isn't with the programme today," Bo murmured faintly, as she started to perform her cool down stretches

"Still excited about Mr Phillips making you principal dancer for the group piece? Or did you have such a good night celebrating that it's catching up with you this morning?" Genevieve winked.

Bo smiled a little vaguely. Genevieve was a notorious gossip, she must be careful not to be sucked in. "Something like that," she said, a little more brightly than she felt, channelling a little fake enthusiasm so she wasn't locker room chit-chat by the end of the day. On top of her wonderings and the worry that came with it, she was feeling a little bloated, and her body ached a bit from the rehearsal. Something told her she shouldn't have over indulged last night.

"Bet your boyfriend was thrilled," Genevieve continued, not put off in the slightest by the blonde's short answers.

Bo sensed Genevieve was fishing around for some kind of interesting news. She didn't rise. "Sure, he was thrilled," she said shortly, trying to concentrate her attention on her muscles. But the only part of her that wanted to work was her brain, as it whirled with thought after thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Genevieve cast her a look, that Bo pretended not to see as she swallowed her rising nausea.

She had to get her focus back. She had people to impress.


She had people to impress. She had to get her focus back.

Jessie busied herself with tying and chalking her shoes, ready for the ballet audition. The specialist floor laid in the room was something she was quietly familiar with, having grown up taking ballet classes as a little girl. She'd only just brought ballet shoes the other year, in preparation for her studies at Lamar.

Her concentration was squarely on her preparation. Mostly because she needed to, but if she'd had a choice, she would have sat there on the floor, not doing anything but staring at Karl across the room.

Not because he was more attractive the more she watched him, but because he was playing the piano alongside each set of dancers.

Out of the 30 dancers selected, she seemed to be one of about 20 girls. The talent in the room varied, Jessie realised, glancing up to see three girls and one guy dancing for the faculty members in the corner. A brief eavesdrop on a conversation earlier during her stretches had enabled her to work out a few things.

Firstly, the main interviewer from her initial audition – the lady that had called names out at the end - was the head of the department, because one of the sisters to an auditionee knew her.

Secondly, the other members of the audition panel were some of the teachers that would be taking the new dance students. Jessie regarded them for a few minutes, as they scribbled notes and moved papers around busily as her fellow auditionees performed.

"O'Mulloch, Pearson, Pride, Robinson," called the faculty head from her seat behind the desk.

Jessie swallowed hard, adjusted her leotard, and got to her feet. Kicking her legs a little to keep the muscles warm, she gave a very slight sideways glance at the corner of the room. Karl's back was to her, as he ran his fingers over the keys gently, the music beginning to stir the room again.

Jessie began to dance, her motions soft and graceful as she embraced the music. The tune was light, melodic. It warmed Jessie's soul as she danced, and she half closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her as she pirouetted and pliéd her heart out. The more the music played, the more she got lost in it. It was a wrench to her being as she felt the music beginning to fade, as Karl played the final notes.

A last twirl, and Jessie came to a halt, breathing a little heavy, her eyes opening fully again, the spell broken.

"Thank you!" called the interviewer. Jessie thought she saw a look on the woman's face, one she couldn't place.

There was a slight pause before the interviewer cleared the floor and called "Stewart, Su, Vangess, and Williams."

Jessie wandered over to the side of the room to do her cool down stretches. Unbeknownst to her as she turned away, someone was watching her every move intently.


"Thank you once again everyone." The faculty head was on her feet some fifteen minutes later. "Again, we don't want to waste anyone's time, that's why we are moving so quickly today. You can appreciate of course, our time constraints."

She rustled some papers. "I'm going to call out names. If you are called, please leave the room and thank you for auditioning today. The talent in this room is both excellent and incredibly varied, unfortunately we can only keep half of you!"

Jessie shifted on the floor, glancing once more at Karl. He was packing away his sheet music, she noticed. Sub-consciously she grabbed the end of her braid, beginning to wrestle with it as she waited for the outcome.


She really didn't feel too well. Bo breathed out, trying to push down the sick feeling rising up again. The rest of her rehearsal had been great. Her head cleared a little, but only because she'd been focused on her aches. Now she felt sick again, she'd thought that had been a side effect of her worry. Maybe that cheesecake had gone off, maybe it had been sitting in the counter too long. Weren't there rules about that sort of thing? Oh God, did she have food poisoning? She'd get kicked out of the gala if she couldn't rehearse. Bo hugged her arms around herself as she walked into the locker room.

The scent of perfume and soap hit her instantly, the rich, sweet smells like barbed wire to all her senses.

Pushing past some of the girls, Bo raced for the bathroom. She was relieved over two things - firstly that the bathroom appeared deserted, and secondly that she'd made it just in time. Both factors were useful to her, and she didn't bother to close the door to the stall behind her as she fell to her knees and threw up instantly.

A couple of minutes later, having recovered, Bo reached for a sheet of toilet paper, mopping her brow and flushing the toilet. She climbed, wobbling a little, to her feet, and straightened her clothes.

She turned, and to her horror, standing by the sinks, was Genevieve. Bo knew she had seen – and heard – everything. Bo swallowed, feeling like she was caught in headlights.

After all her carefulness in rehearsal, suddenly she knew she would be the topic of all locker room gossip for at least the next week.