Swimming Through the Dawn

by R. P. Rioux

  "Don't mention it."

  "Did you choose any of the songs?" asked Steve.

  "Actually, we're using two. We also prepared a tribute to complete our set, thus the outfits."

  "You should walk around a bit," suggested Casey. "See if you know anyone here,"

  Heather found the obvious attempt to get rid of her amusing. "Yeah. I'll do that," she said. "Thanks…Tracey, was it?"

  "Casey."

  "Oh, yeah…Right."

  A group of musicians finished their rendition of "The Pina Colada Song," before plunging into a parody version of "Copacabana." While most of the references went over her head, she enjoyed watching the crowd's reactions as various guests were targeted for spirited roasting.

  By now, her group members had spread throughout the room, practicing what Grace assigned as homework. They were to familiarize themselves with fanservice techniques designed to make audiences feel special. Grace wanted the less experienced members to understand the importance of developing these vital skills. They were expected to project warmth, modesty, positivity, and humility always in public.

  After more than 90 minutes of mingling, Steve approached Heather. "You're next. You ready?"

  "Most definitely."

  Heather assembled her members. The prior act had performed a brief, ridiculous version of "All I Want for Christmas is You." The girls had little time to catch their breath before stepping on stage.

  Phil served as MC. "Next up, you're in for a treat. We have in house the hottest K-Pop group this side of the Pacific. Let's give a warm lounge lizard welcome to the newbies. Here's Made in Heaven."

  In a departure from their standard setup, Grace stood at the center mike, while Heather took the lead guitar. June and Vanessa shared one mic as backup singers, while the rest used host-provided instruments. Sun-hee played the electronic keyboard on their cover version of "Christmas Wrapping" by The Waitresses.

  During rehearsals, Grace had expressed doubts over Erin's ability to handle the lively Tracy Wormworth bassline. Erin assured her she'd learn it on time. From the start, it sounded like their gamble had paid off. The audience caught on to her infectious groove, and soon everybody was dancing and singing along. The playing was super sharp, doing more than enough justice to the original. Grace ripped through the rap-like singing style without a hitch, enthralling the crowd. The assured performance conveyed the message that Made in Heaven wasn't to be taken lightly. Once the enthusiastic applause diminished, Heather called upon Sun-hee and June to join her at the front, while Grace reclaimed her guitar.

  "You all know BTS and Blackpink, right?" Heather's query was met with near universal shouts of agreement. "And how about the Kim Sisters?" One guy towards the rear of the room roared in the affirmative. Heather identified him as a pale, scrawny, near giant, with a head of unruly, red hair. "Hmm, for some reason, I'm skeptical," she said, noticing his mischievous grin.

  "I have a sister named Kim. Does that count?"

  "Close enough." She explained how the first Korean wave started in 1959 when the Kim Sisters took both Vegas and the Ed Sullivan Show by storm. "They aren't household names today, but they're heroes to us, and we wanted to share a song with you."

  'The Kim Sisters' launched into a jaunty cover of the doo-wop song "Mr. Magic Moon." The song's lyrics implored the moon to shine a light on their one true love. As she sang, Heather's eyes locked with Steve's. Keeping in character, she keyed in on him as the object of her affection. He was transfixed. Casey, noticing their interaction, forcibly kissed him on the lips as if to claim him, then stared at Heather in a triumphant challenge. At that instant, Sun-hee uncharacteristically flubbed a line. Nonetheless, the song ended with a bang, and the room roared their approval, calling for an encore.

  Fortunately, the girls had come prepared. Their well-received set was to conclude with their most demanding number. As her two sisters returned to their usual places, Heather inquired of Sun-hee, "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," she responded unconvincingly.

  "Remember your training. Always remain positive."

  Sun-hee nodded, smiled weakly, and took her seat at the piano. She opened with a snappy, jazzy piano intro accompanied by Mindy's delicate snare and high-hat work. The band had prepared an extended rendition of Aretha Franklin's "Kissin' by the Mistletoe.

  Heather bit into the performance like a delicious steak, providing the audience with as much stagecraft as song. From the opening verse, she toyed with the audience, offering a delightful blend of sultry and playful. She flirted outrageously with audience members as the lyrics extolled the benefits of falling in love during the holidays. The room paid her rapt attention.

  In rehearsals, Sun-hee's improvised solo typically lasted less than a minute. This night, she was on fire. The crowd's enthusiasm was certainly infectious, but perhaps she had taken Heather's advice to heart. Whatever the reason, Sun-hee went on a five-minute tear, transfixing the crowd. As she strayed into uncharted territory, Erin nearly panicked. She shot a glance towards Mindy, who reassured her with a calm expression, as if suggesting, 'just go with it.'

  To the delight of the audience, Sun-hee even channeled her best Vince Guaraldi impression, breaking into a spontaneous rendition of "O Tannenbaum" midway through. It took whatever Heather and her backing vocalists could muster to build upon the energy she stoked and bring the number to a suitable conclusion.

  "Let's hear it for the band," Phil said. The girls left to wild applause.

  Finally, a good performance.

  Afterward, they fielded many compliments and questions. People inquired of their outfits, their band, K-Pop in general, and the Kim Sisters. Eventually, another act took the mic, and the crowd's attention returned to the stage.

  "We needed that," said Grace to Heather.

  "Now, if we could only get them to like our songs."

  25

  Steve

  He spotted her from the rear bedroom window. Heather sat alone on a canopy swing, illuminated by the warm glow of garden lights. Steve dug through the remaining pile of coats on the bed, acquiring one he remembered her wearing.

  The yard behind the Pasadena bungalow was cozy, bearing the fragrance of lilacs and lavender. Dense plantings of goldenrod and milkweed embraced a small patch of trimmed grass in the shape of a figure eight. A large oak and three smaller myrtles divided the space into smaller nooks, one of which nestled the swing sanctuary in its grasp. He stepped off the cedar deck and onto the sandstone pavers. As the door closed behind him, The Skints' "This Town" faded into the background to be replaced by the chiming of a bubbling fountain.

  "I brought your coat."

  "Are you hinting I should leave?" Heather asked, sitting upright.

  "Oh, no," he stammered. "I thought you'd be cold is all."

  "I'm teasing. Come sit. There's plenty of room." She waved her hand invitingly and shifted to make space.

  Steve waited for her to lean forward. With the coat securely draped over her shoulders, he sat next to her. Their legs touched. She didn't move away.

  "Why are you outside?"

  "This fountain relaxes me. How are the others doing?"

  "Most left. Erin and Sun-hee are crashed on the couch. Grace and Mindy are playing a drinking game. Grace is winning, of course. Big surprise." Heather smiled. "Last I saw, Vanessa and June were on the front porch talking to some guys. I don't know their names."

  "Where's Casey?"

  He exhaled. "Ugh. Blacked out in a bedroom. Drank way too much tonight."

  "Those cocktails were potent."

  "She normally knows her limits."

  A moment passed in silence. Heather asked, "How are things going between you two?"

  "You know." Steve shrugged his shoulders.

  "No. That's why I asked."

  "They've been better," Steve said.

  "How long have you two been together?"

  "We grew up in the same neighborhood but didn't start dating until the summer before college. She's
changing now. Or I'm changing. It's confusing."

  "It's bound to happen. There's so much happening in our lives. It's not hopeless. You just have to work on it."

  "It was much simpler when we were friends."

  "But you have a solid base to build on. That's good."

  "I guess." An emergency vehicle passed, sirens blaring. Steve waited for the noise to dissipate. "Do you think it's even possible for men and women to just be friends, though?"

  "Of course. We're friends, aren't we?"

  "Yeah, but—"

  "But what?" Steve noticed that Heather's leg no longer touched his.

  "What if I wasn't with Casey? It'd be different."

  "I don't see why."

  "Maybe you're right." A burst of laughter emanated from the house. Grace was heard demanding a penalty from an opponent.

  "This was a grand party," Heather said.

  "Yeah, it always is. You guys were magnificent tonight, by the way. People spend weeks preparing for this. You pulled it together in two."

  "The girls wanted it. The rough start took a toll on our confidence."

  "You're a true natural at singing."

  Heather smiled. "It allows me to connect with others. In those brief moments on stage, I'm a whole person."

  "Listen. I'll understand if you reject this, but I'm up for another video next semester." Heather looked surprised but didn't respond. Steve took it as a sign to continue. "A dance-oriented one this time, tailored to your liking from the start."

  "We're in no position to reject opportunities." Heather chuckled. She began stretching contentedly like a cat. "Are you going back home for the holidays?"

  "For a bit, but I'll be mostly working to pay for school."

  "You pay for your own studies?"

  "My dad doesn't see the point in college, so I'm on my own."

  "Wow. So, it is possible."

  "How do you suppose I got my theater manager job? Paid for my own high school too."

  "Was it expensive?"

  "It was a private prep school where the rich families sent their kids."

  "But you weren't —"

  "I was the merit kid who aced the entrance exam. Work-study was my salvation."

  "My dad made it sound impossible."

  "It's possible, but I was constantly reminded of my status. Classmates would get Porsches for their 16th birthday. Meanwhile, I was taking the bus. It was a source of endless amusement for them."

  "Passive-aggressive bullying."

  "Sometimes straight-up aggressive. I looked forward to graduation day so they'd have nothing over me."

  "Must've been a great feeling."

  "I wouldn't know. The school withheld my diploma because they claimed I owed them 20 hours. My moment of triumph, stolen." Heather frowned at that news. "Enough of me. What was your experience like?"

  "Mine was a performing arts academy aligned with my agency. Between school and training, I had little time for anything else. When I hear all the fun things people here did in high school, it makes me jealous."

  "High school sucked, to be honest. Don't let the movies fool you. You were doing what you wanted, right?"

  "Oh, definitely, but it wasn't easy. I'd wake at 5:00 a.m. and train at the agency until school started at 8:00. We'd learn the usual subjects, along with dancing, singing, and music. At 4:00 p.m., I'd go to the agency for more practice. Depending on homework, I'd return to the dorms at 9:00 to finish assignments. I rarely saw my family."

  "That's insane. Did you at least have weekends off?"

  She laughed. "No way. We trained even longer on weekends. If you didn't keep pace, you'd be cut."

  "Jeez, no wonder you guys are fire." Steve sat straight. "Say, I've been meaning to ask you this for a while."

  "What?" Heather's shoulders noticeably tensed.

  "If you trained as an idol, but you're sitting here with me on this swing, does that mean—" Steve stopped, uncertain of how to continue without sounding insensitive.

  "Did I fail as an idol?" asked Heather, finishing his question before slumping in her seat. The carefree manner she once exhibited was gone. "Gapbunssa," she said, clenching her hands.

  "Honestly, I was hoping to find a nicer way to put it." He exhaled deeply. "Look, forget it. I didn't mean to pry."

  "No, I need to get over it, but let me keep these positive feelings for one night at least."

  "I'm sorry I mentioned it."

  "The quick answer is no."

  Steve looked at her, more curious than ever. "Then why—"

  "I was offered a debut but rejected it."

  "But that was your dream!"

  "You're determined to bring me down, aren't you?" Initially, there was a hint of anger in her voice, but the tone quickly softened. She gently turned his head to the side. The brush of fingertips on skin electrified his senses. With lips mere inches from his ear, she spoke in an adamant whisper. Her breath reminded him of cranberries and midnight. "Someday, I'll explain it to you, Steve, but not tonight. Okay?"

  26

  Vanessa

  "Okay, see you Thursday. Be ready for a workout," announced Danya Kay.

  Vanessa waited for the pilates class at the tattered Westside Gym to disperse. The musky air in the starkly-lit room was laden with perspiration. After the studio cleared, she approached Danya with a simple, "Hey."

  "Hey, Vanessa, I thought I saw you lurking in the corner." Danya pulled her disheveled hair into a ponytail and retied it. Drops of sweat lingered on her light brown skin. "You should have joined us. I wouldn't have charged you…much."

  "I didn't come for a workout. I wanna talk to you," explained Vanessa.

  "Everything alright? You're at university now, yeah?"

  "Yeah. No, things are going. I was hoping you'd help me with a project, in fact."

  "What's up?"

  "Choreography."

  "Oh, no. Too busy for that. Why? This for a class?"

  "No, it's extra-curricular. A music video."

  "Paid?" Vanessa indicated it didn't. "Oh, hell no. I'm not doing charity anymore. I gotta pay bills. You think I stay in this place for stimulation?"

  "I know, but listen. My new group'll approach you soon with an offer. I knew you'd reject them outright —"

  "Got that right," said Danya

  "— so, I thought I'd talk to you first. Hear us out. It would mean gobs to me. I'll pay you back. Promise."

  Danya shot her a sideways glance. "Are you okay?"

  "Perfect. I'll fill in for one of your classes, and you won't even have to pay me."

  "This isn't like you. What gives? Why this?" Danya collected her belongings and packed her dance bag as Vanessa spoke.

  "My scholarship pays for my tuition."

  "That's how it works."

  "My mom wouldn't be able to afford university without it."

  "Got it."

  "I'm a dance major, and I want to show her results. Working at McDonald's afterward ain't an option. I need to make this major payoff."

  "How's that play into this gig?"

  "A gut feeling is all. There's no money in it now, but I can't sit around waiting for things to happen. Otherwise, four years will fly by —" Vanessa waved her hand in the air like a hard-driven golf ball, "— and I'll be just another unemployed dancer hitting the streets."

  "I hear that."

  "It's one more spaghetti strand to throw at the wall in the hopes it'll stick. Could be an excellent opportunity for you too. Unless you'd rather teach pilates the rest of your life."

  "Cold," Danya said with a smirk. "You know I've got other things going on." She zipped her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

  "You're the most talented choreographer I've ever met, and I'd travel the world to be in your dances. That's why I want your help."

  Danya thought for a moment. "What's your proposal?"

  "We'll meet on campus. You can drop by on your way home."

  "Look, I'll be honest," Danya said as she headed for the stud
io door with Vanessa tagging along. "I'm not thrilled about this, but I'll listen if it means so much to you. You've been there for me in the past."

  "That's all I ask."

  "I know other people you can call, though." Vanessa reacted sourly. "Don't give me that look, Ness. I'm grateful you thought of me, but we dancers have a brief shelf life. I'm making the most of my limited time."