by SM Olivier
Zane and I looked at each other in confusion. The name “Layden” didn’t ring a bell with me, and it didn’t seem to register with Zane, either. I tried racking my brain, and at the same time, my nerves increased. It was obvious not everyone wanted us here.
“Watch what you’re saying. You’re just as replaceable,” a man growled out in response. “We didn’t ask for your opinion. Do your job and teach them the dance. Just that easy. They're your clients. It's your job to make sure they get the services they paid for. If they want to make changes the day of, we do it. It’s not the first, or last, time we’ll experience this.”
“I already did my job,” the woman complained. “I already got the perfect dancer. She understands now the error of her ways and promises to be on her best behavior from here on out.”
Nerves and curiosity took a front seat in my head as I wondered what their original lead could have done to warrant such strong feelings. I didn’t have to wait long to have my curiosity assuaged.
I recognized Mr. Brady's voice as he spoke up calmly. “She breached her contract the moment she broke into their hotel room and proceeded to get naked in their bed. She’s lucky she wasn’t fired immediately. So we’re finding her another spot. I’m telling you, Peyton is the girl we’re looking for. Her friend Zane is an added bonus. They’ll bring the chemistry the other two didn’t have.”
Zane gently squeezed my shoulder, and I wondered if we should announce our presence. Somehow I don’t think this argument was intended for our ears.
“You have been obsessing about this girl from the start,” the female protested once more. “Do you even know if she’s half the dancer she used to be? Are we sure she’s even mentally and emotionally stable? Tell me the truth; you’re just hoping for more press because of who she is. You know there are rumors that she made it all up, right? That she’s a pathological liar. Her story doesn’t match up with the other women found.”
My heart sank as her words took root in my head. I hoped I wasn’t being used for who I was. I prayed Mr. Brady had seen my potential from months ago and remembered that instead of banking on an opportunity to make more money.
Zane squeezed my hand and shook his head. I looked at him with tears burning the back of my eyes. I didn’t want to be used. If I was going to land this audition, I wanted it based on my talents, not on who I was.
“Brady wouldn’t hire you based on who you are,” a gentle lilting masculine voice piped up from behind me, as if reading my thoughts. “He believes in finding talent and giving his clients the best.”
I spun around abruptly and noticed a tall, handsome man. He had beautiful auburn hair shorn on the sides but was a mess of curls on the top. His emerald-green eyes seemed open and honest. His facial structure rivaled Lochlann’s but leaned towards the… pretty side. He had a lean but muscular body with colorful, beautiful tattoos adorning his forearms and disappearing into his fitted olive-green tee.
“Grady Caillat?” Sal cleared his throat, barely masking his awe.
I had to admit I didn’t recognize him right off the bat, and his name didn’t ring any bells, but when he smiled, I was reminded of a YouTube video I had recently watched. Crew loved his alternative rock bands and had introduced me to their music. Uncaged, the band, had been on the scene for the last few years but seemed to have really found their stride this past year.
I was ashamed to admit that even though I had recognized a few of their number one hits from mainstream on the radio, I hadn’t known too much about them until recently. In fact, one of their songs had just been added to my playlist, only because of Crew’s interest in them.
Grady gave Sal a pleasant smile. “I am. You’re not one of the dancers, are you?” he joked as he examined Sal’s large frame.
“Nope, he’s my shadow,” I quipped, trying to recover from being caught eavesdropping. “That’s what you get when you are ‘mentally or emotionally unstable’ because you’re ‘a pathological liar,’” I added self-deprecatingly.
My first instinct was to cave under the new pressure thrust upon me, but it was quickly followed by anger. I didn’t come all the way here to become a mascot or an advertising gimmick. I knew my worth, even if I wasn’t exactly where I wanted to be in my dancing.
Another warm smile spread across Grady’s face. If I didn’t have six—could I still count Crew?—handsome men in my like, I could easily be attracted to him. He had an easy-going aura about him that set me at ease and didn’t carry the airs I assumed most famous people carried.
“I think of myself as being emotionally stable,” he said. “My mental stability is questionable at times, but let's be real; we all carry a little crazy. Is that why I have two shadows waiting for me in the lobby? I didn’t even realize I had been evaluated to be deemed unstable.” He chuckled.
I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Sal, my Shadow,” I joked. “He just showed up one day. However, I didn’t need an evaluation to realize I’m mentally and emotionally… challenged. But I refuse to believe I’m a hundred percent unstable… yet.”
He laughed once more, head thrown back and all. “You have to meet my girl. She’ll love the way you approach criticism. It’s refreshing.”
“Well, thanks. This is my reaction today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?” I said with a rueful smile.
He gave me a calculating look before he solemnly nodded. “I think that applies to us all, if we’re honest with ourselves. Self-awareness can aid in all our recovery and growth. As with everything else, there are always setbacks no matter who we are and what we may have gone through.”
I cocked my head to my side. His intense gaze reminded me of Lochlann’s in so many ways. It was like he could strip away my layers and actually see me. I didn’t know if it was comforting or intimidating.
“Peyton, Zane?” Mr. Brady came into the room with a wide smile. “You’re here. Early. I like it!”
I could see the unease in his eyes, and I was sure he was wondering how much we had overheard. I tried to school my features to imitate some professionalism. I knew how this industry worked. One person could love you while the others would just chew you up and spit you out. I was determined not to give them a reason not to like me based on my personality alone or how I presented myself. If they wanted to hate me, let them decide to do so based on what I was selling: dancing.
“We didn’t know how long it would take us,” Zane explained. “We were lucky to avoid all the traffic coming in. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Brady.”
“I’m glad you found us okay,” Mr. Brady seemed to relax by our expressions. “And please, call me Martin.”
“Well, time’s a wastin’,” a woman snipped out. “Let’s see what you've got.”
The woman was pretty, in a quirky way. She was roughly around my height with a toned dancer's body on display, wearing a crop top and sweatpants. Her hair was in a peek-a-boo style. I could see a layer of bubble gum pink hair under her white strands on top. Her make-up accentuated her alabaster skin and almost overly-large blue eyes. She had multiple piercings in her ears, one in her nose, and one through her lip.
I assumed immediately that she no longer danced professionally, or if she did, it wasn’t by traditional means. The ballet world, especially, could be snobs when it came to body modifications and markings. That’s why I knew I wasn’t aiming for being the next great Prima ballerina. That world was too strict, and I knew it wasn’t a box I wanted to be put in.
“Someone didn’t have their caffeine this morning,” Grady said dryly.
I hadn’t even noticed Grady had taken a step back—a tiny alcove had been concealing him. He didn’t look happy as he took a few steps towards us.
“Grady?” another man joined us in the lobby. “What are you doing here?”
Holy hotness. This guy was highly attractive, to say the least. Not to say I was attracted to him, but he was a fine specimen of a man. He had an exotic look to him that made me wonder what nationality, if not more than one
, he was mixed with. His skin was almost a bronze color, his hair black, and his eyes a very light hazel that were at odds compared to the rest of his features.
“Jack,” Grady nodded as he stuffed his hands in his worn jeans, “Just checking on the new talent. We wanted a larger say this time.”
“It’s not necessary, Grady,” the woman simpered, suddenly full of sweetness and lacking all the vitriol she was spewing moments ago. “I’m sure we can see if these two are up to par without wasting your time.”
“I say it isn’t wasting my time, it’s vital,” Grady said. “Unlike in the past, we’ll be on the set a lot more. I can’t have what occurred Friday happen again.” He had lost all his affable persona. He was now shrewd and almost harsh. “I also,” he looked over at the man he called Jack, “have Naila on her way over.”
“Why is Naila coming?” the woman asked, her voice rising in shrillness.
Grady shook his head. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Ray. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. You’re already setting a toxic environment, and I don’t need it. They don’t need it, either.” He pointed towards us. “Peyton and Zane, would you like a beverage before we begin? Snacks? How ‘bout you, Sal?”
Ray opened and closed her mouth several times. “Are you firing me?”
“Maybe,” Grady said with a careless shrug. “I’ll have Jack tell you later. Right now, as you aptly pointed out, time’s a wastin’.”
“Raina, go,” Jack said with warning.
Raina looked like she wanted to go-off, instead, but she seemed to catch herself at the last second before she turned on her heels and stormed towards the room they had been arguing in earlier. Moments later, she came back out carrying a bookbag. She glared at Zane and me as if we were responsible for her dismissal.
“Beverages?” Grady looked at us once more.
“I’m good.” I held up my insulated water bottle. “Thank you.”
I didn’t know what had just happened, but I was sure it was a good thing. Raina had doubted our abilities before we’d even walked through the door. I knew it would have messed with my head the whole time had she stuck around. I already had a labyrinth of negativity up there without adding more to it.
“We brought our water, thank you. Sal?” Zane looked over at the bigger man.
“I wouldn’t mind a coffee. Black. Uh…. Thanks.” Sal still seemed in awe of Grady.
I was determined to stalk this band after we left here. If Grady’s bandmates were anything like him, I had a feeling I would like them all. He seemed so down-to-earth, highly intelligent, and determined to ensure anyone that worked for or with them was in the best environment possible.
“Okay then,” Grady pulled out his phone, “Martin? Jack? You guys want anything?”
“Thanks, Gray,” Jack answered Grady, shortening his name, “but we have Trixie running out for us.”
Just then, the elevators pinged behind us.
“Oh good, you’re here.” A younger woman came rushing out of the elevators. She made a beeline towards me and Zane. “I’m Camille, Martin’s assistant and the person you’ve been emailing. Did you get off on the wrong floor?”
I frowned and shook my head. “The receptionist directed us to this floor.”
A thought then struck me. Did the receptionist set us up? Did she purposely send us to the wrong floor? If so, why?
Camille sighed heavily but then shook her head. “No worries, I guess. You’re here now. Trixie ran to get us some snacks. Want anything?”
“We’re good, thank you,” I murmured.
“Okay, great.” Martin clapped his hands. “Let’s show these guys and girls what you got.” he looked at Zane and me. “Did you bring your music? Did you need to stretch first?”
“We brought it, and yes, please, we’ll need to stretch,” Zane spoke.
“I’ll take them in,” Camille volunteered. “Follow me,” she said when Martin nodded at her.
“We’ll give you guys ten, fifteen minutes and then we’ll come in,” Martin stated as he began to speak quietly to Grady and Jack.
Camille led us into a large open room. The wood floors shone with the reflection of the abundant sunlight streaming into the floor-to-ceiling windows. The windows had an impressive architectural design that seemed reminiscent of warehouse windows, with a curved top. Two of the four walls were original brick and had an industrial but elegant feel to them as well.
“Music?” Camille gently prompted, holding out her hand.
I dug into the front pocket of my duffle bag and handed her the CD with our music on it. We decided to stick with the number we did on Saturday. After our success, it felt like it was the best decision to present ourselves with today.
“It’s the first track,” I informed her as I pulled up my warm-up playlist on my phone.
Zane pulled me into an embrace and kissed the tip of my nose wordlessly. I allowed myself to melt into his hold for a few brief seconds before I found a spot against the wall to put my duffel bag down. I opened it up and removed my yoga pants, socks, and shoes.
Zane found a spot next to me and removed his hoodie, shoes, and socks as well.
“My songs or yours?” Zane smirked at me, knowing the answer.
I laughed and shook my head. “As if I’ll let you choose our warm-up songs.”
Zane was talented in many ways, but his taste in music left something to be desired at times. He had a thing for old-school artists like Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennet, Bing Crosby. There was nothing wrong with their music. However, they didn’t get me in the zone like my music did.
Zane grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t hurt to try.”
“Never again,” I teased him as I pushed play.
Walk Through Fire by The EverLove started playing through my phone, and I began to do jumping jacks to get my body warmed up. Zane took a spot near me and started his own set. We had done this so many times that it came effortlessly.
Once I felt like my muscles were warm enough, I began to do some deep stretches. It wasn’t until I was doing the splits that I realized that I felt the pull, but it was no longer excruciating.
“I think I’m getting my mojo back,” I murmured to Zane.
“Oh yeah?” Zane grinned as he stood from his straddle. “Take the wall.”
The guys always teased him for his flexibility, but I thought it was hot. I got up and moved to the wall. I braced my back against it as he lifted my leg for me.
“Those baths must have helped,” Zane agreed as he pushed on my hamstring and ankle.
Zane had made me take a bath with Epsom salts and other additives last night. At first, I had protested because I didn’t think I could relax enough to enjoy it. Now I was glad I had listened to him.
“They really did,” I agreed. “Maybe it should be a nightly thing.”
“I’ll join you tonight,” Zane flirted.
“As if I would say no.” I laughed as he helped me transition to my other leg.
Sunrise by RAIGN came on, and I closed my eyes and just allowed my body to do what it knew best. In my head, I pictured myself going through all the movements necessary to nail the routine.
I realized the longer we stretched, the more my nerves started to lessen. It seemed like we barely warmed up before Martin, Grady, and Jack came back into the room, followed by a beautiful petite African American woman.
“Peyton and Zane,” Mr. Brady grinned as he handed Sal his coffee, “sorry about the chaos this morning. Normally we’re much more organized. This is Naila.” He pointed to the beautiful woman. “She’s one of our choreographers on my staff. If we decide to hire you, she’ll be teaching you the steps to the music video. By the end of the day, if you’re in, we hope you have all the moves down. You already met Grady, from Uncaged. Jack is their manager—”
The door opened again, admitting another man.
“—and Oscar here is part of the record label,” Martin added with a grin at the timing.
“It’s nice meeting you all,” Zane and I said simultaneously.
Zane stepped forward to shake their hands, and I followed suit.
“Thank you for the opportunity,” I added.
“Let’s hope it was worth our time,” Oscar sternly quipped as he took a seat behind a meeting-like table.
Everyone else took a seat, and soon the opening notes of Lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid were surrounding us. My troubled, worried thoughts melted away—my only focus was the music, my movements, and Zane. Everything else faded away.
I lost myself completely, embracing the natural way Zane and I moved together. Today, I was ready for the connection Zane had added to the number on Saturday. I emoted my own emotions as we moved fluidly as one. I could feel how our bodies complemented each other.
Today, our most difficult leap, throw, and catch seemed effortless. It was as if I gained the confidence I had lost, as if my mind had convinced my body that we’d already executed it flawlessly and could continue doing so. My body wasn’t where I wanted it to be yet, and I knew I have more work to do, but my mind was convincing me that it still worked.
When the song ended, I was breathing heavily. My body shook with excitement and nerves as I rode the adrenaline wave. Zane’s body vibrated slightly, too, as he embraced me from behind. He didn’t make a move to step away. We didn’t bow or make a grand exit.
We simply stood there and waited for the verdict.
●
“One, two, one, two, three four,” Naila barked as she clapped.
I executed the movements for the fourth time.
After we finished our dance, I had seen the excitement in Martin Brady’s and Naila’s eyes. Oscar had stood up and motioned for the others to follow him. After several excruciating minutes later, only Naila and Martin had returned to the room. They informed us that we were hired and had the rest of the morning to learn the steps.
Sometime after lunch, the rest of the cast would be joining us. Martin had told us to buckle in for a long, strenuous day, but instead of finding the thought daunting, I embraced the new challenge. At the moment, I felt no pain or limitations with my body. I was running on an adrenaline high like no other.