Dance Like No One's Watching

by Vanessa Jones

  CHAPTER 3

  After a gruelling morning, Kiki and I finally catch up with each other on the way down to commercial.

  Kiki slips her arm in mine playfully. ‘Should we talk about what you nearly did this morning?’

  I feel myself blush. ‘I just couldn’t stand by and watch her humiliate anyone,’ I say. ‘I knew I’d made a mistake almost as soon as I’d jumped out. But by then, it was kind of too late.’

  ‘I mean, I could sort of see you regretted it the second you’d done it,’ she says, smiling. ‘I get that Miss Duke’s just doing her job in the way she thinks best, preparing us all for a fucked-up industry. But she needs to chill. Honestly, there was a tiny part of me that wanted to see what you’d come up with. Your face, Nettie.’ She puts her hand over her eyes, laughing.

  ‘Omigod, I’m so grateful that film crew walked in.’

  ‘Yeah, what about that?’ she says. ‘Kind of a curveball, right?

  ’ We’re interrupted by Fletch walking up the corridor. ‘Nettie!’ he says urgently.

  ‘Is everything—?’ I say, but the rest of my sentence is muffled as he pulls me in for a tight hug.

  Kiki laughs and rolls her eyes. ‘You guys are a lot for a Monday morning,’ she says.

  She’s right, though – it is a lot, even for us. I only saw him a few hours ago.

  I notice a little crease in Fletch’s forehead. ‘You weirded out by the cameras too?’ I joke.

  ‘Yeah. Actually, Nettie—’

  ‘Well, I’d forgotten just how good it is in this place.’ Alec barges in between us and slings his arms around our shoulders. ‘I’ve had a superb morning.’

  Fletch goes to talk again but is once more interrupted by Alec.

  ‘And God,’ he says, dropping his arms from around our necks, ‘as if Miss Duke could be any more obvious. We get it – you lost the backing for the new building from Jade Upton’s dad after publicly shaming his daughter, and now you’ve had to find funding elsewhere.’ He sighs dramatically. ‘I imagine it’ll be incredibly tedious for us, but ultimately quite lucrative. I was thinking about bringing out a clothing line, and this will be the perfect way to showcase it.’

  ‘Of course you were,’ says Kiki, laughing. ‘Sounds interesting, though. Like, the exposure could be good.’

  It sounds like one more thing to worry about, if you ask me. But I know I had loads of exposure last year with the clip that went viral, and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, so I just smile and nod.

  ‘Are you walking over to the music hall, Fletch?’ says Alec. ‘I’ve got voice class.’

  ‘Aren’t you in commercial with us?’ I say. ‘And also, where did you disappear off to this morning?’

  Alec shakes his head dismissively like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. ‘No idea. And no, I’m not in commercial. Coming, Fletch?’

  ‘I’m due there in a bit,’ says Fletch. ‘But I was just asking Nettie something.’

  ‘Nettie can’t be late for class,’ says Alec pointedly. ‘Don’t want her all stressed and rushing. Especially as apparently they’re filming it.’ He gives Fletch a significant look that I don’t understand.

  ‘Just ask me quickly,’ I say. ‘What was it?’

  Fletch glances at Alec. ‘It was only that I . . . Mum asked me to ask you if you’d like to come to ours for Christmas. That’s all.’

  Christmas with my boyfriend? A whole month together? What could be better than that?

  ‘I’d love to!’ I say, kissing him. I don’t know what was so urgent – it’s only September. But it’s lovely, all the same. Last year I was in my room alone after a huge fight with my grandmother, crying to Mum’s favourite songs. Not a time I’d like to repeat. My brain races ahead, already planning romantic walks around Christmas markets and trips to windy beaches with a flask of hot chocolate. Dancing to cheesy songs, kissing under the mistletoe—

  Alec taps Fletch’s shoulder impatiently. ‘Let’s go.’

  Fletch kisses me again and before I can say a word, Alec drags him off.

  ‘Well, that was weird,’ says Kiki. ‘Why was he so desperate to drag Fletch off?’

  I was wondering that myself. They’ve both been a little strange since yesterday. ‘I don’t know,’ I say, watching as they disappear together down the corridor.

  Kiki opens the studio door and walks straight to the mirror. I’m less than keen on joining the front row for my first commercial class this year, but the alternative is to move nearer to Jade Upton, who’s glowering at me from two rows back with her equally unpleasant BFF, Natasha Bridgewell. I’m not intimidated, if that’s what they’re hoping, but it makes me angry that they’ve got the nerve to be so openly hostile after everything that happened at the Summer Showcase. Last year was rough enough, dealing with losing Mum and not being able to sing, and Jade and Natasha went out of their way to make things worse for me. I was hoping they’d let me move on this year, but it appears not. Jade mutters something to Natasha, who snarls nastily at me.

  ‘You OK?’ says Kiki, watching Jade and Natasha.

  ‘Yeah. Not gonna let them wrong-foot me on my first day.’ Seeing her concerned face, I add, ‘Honestly. It’s cool.’

  Leon spots us and comes over.

  ‘Hi, love,’ I say, hugging him.

  ‘Hey. Have you seen Alec? I haven’t seen him since boys ballet this morning,’ says Leon. ‘Or rather, I haven’t seen him since after ballet when he came out of the shower completely naked and dripping wet, loudly barked at one of the poor frightened first-years to pass him his towel, and proceeded to bollock them all for taking up space on his personal bench.’

  ‘Starting as he means to go on,’ says Kiki.

  Leon nods grimly. ‘I left as quickly as I could. But he should be here.’

  ‘He said he had voice class over at the music hall.’

  Leon frowns. ‘He was excited about having Dan Coombes this morning.’

  ‘Yeah, until he knew you’d be here,’ says Kiki.

  Leon looks at her in surprise.

  ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Alec hates that you’re better at commercial than him, Leon. He can’t hack it. I bet a hundred quid he’s changed his timetable.’

  Leon opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by Dan Coombes breezing in. Short and blond, with fair skin, rosy cheeks, and arms of superhero proportions, he strips off his hoody to reveal a tight racer-back vest and a set of rippling shoulder muscles.

  ‘Er, Leon?’ whispers Kiki. ‘Your mouth’s still open.’

  Leon reassembles his face while Dan calls the register. When he gets to Alec’s name, someone calls out, ‘Timetable change,’ and Kiki gives us a significant look.

  After a couple of minutes my arms are on fire, my fringe is soaking wet and my usually pale cheeks are the same colour as the inside of a watermelon. I glance at the others, but Kiki looks like she could easily go another half an hour of this arm exercise, and Leon’s barely broken into a sweat. I need to up my dance game this year, or I’ll get left behind.

  Halfway through the session, by which time even the windows look like they’re sweating, the door opens and a TV crew enters, led by the blonde woman called Sam who saved me from Miss Duke this morning.

  ‘Ignore us, please,’ says Sam. She adjusts her headset. ‘Pretend we’re not here.’

  That’s all very well, but every time I turn there’s a great furry boom in my face or a camera down by my knees. Seriously, what’s with that? They’d be better off focusing on someone who’s actually good, like Kiki or Leon, or (much as it pains me to say it) Natasha Bridgewell. I do my best not to embarrass myself, pushing through the pain, kicking higher, working my torso harder, but after a summer of doing nothing more exerting than wandering down to Fletch’s kitchen to help myself to cheese, it’s painful.

  At the end of the class, Sam approaches me. ‘The camera likes you,’ she says, smiling. She’s wearing a khaki shirt and trousers that combined with her blue eyes and freckles give
s off strong Calamity Jane vibes.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, not quite sure how to respond. ‘Thanks?’

  ‘It’s Nettie, right?’ she says, offering me her hand and shaking mine firmly. ‘Sam. We’d really like to feature you on our documentary.’

  ‘Um, that’s great, but there are much better dancers in here than me.’ I point to Kiki. ‘That girl over there, for example. She’s amazing.’

  ‘But you’re a brilliant singer,’ Sam shoots back.

  Who’s she been talking to? ‘I—’

  ‘People know you, Nettie,’ she continues over me. ‘They’re going to want your story. How you overcame your vocal problems and became the college’s rising star. What’s next for the girl who broke the internet?’

  I’m never going to escape last year’s Summer Showcase, where Jade and Natasha forced me to sing into a microphone under the stage they’d had secretly rigged up while Jade mimed onstage and took all the glory. It backfired when Alec, Leon, Kiki and Fletch exposed them, and I ended up singing in public for the first time in the entire year I’d been at Duke’s. I was hoping to put it behind me this year, but somehow it ended up on YouTube and has had millions of views. I’ve even been recognized a few times around Soho, which is kind of weird.

  Now I know why Mum always pretended to be someone else when she got approached. Even around college, the other students seem to just, well . . . look at me more. I know for someone who’s hoping for a career in theatre it’s strange not to want to be the centre of attention all the time, but I also know from being the daughter of Anastasia Delaney-Richardson that attention’s not always a good thing.

  ‘I’m not sure I—’

  ‘It’d be great exposure. A good opportunity to showcase your talent.’

  ‘Um, well, can I think about it?’ I say.

  ‘Sure.’ She brushes a sandy lock of hair out of her eyes. ‘But you should know that Miss Duke’s already okayed it. In fact, she suggested the idea. Let me know, yeah?’

  Well, whip-crack-away. She’s been here two minutes and already knows how to play the game. How can I refuse Miss Duke?

  The skirmish won, Sam grins and leaves. As she passes the studio window, I see her stop to talk to Jade, who’s been waiting to ambush her.

  ‘You’re going to do it, right?’ says Kiki, watching Jade shake her enormous red mane at Sam like Galinda teaching Elphaba how to toss her hair.

  ‘I don’t know – should I?’

  ‘Er, yes,’ says Kiki. ‘This could make you, Nettie. I’d kill for that kind of exposure. Think what it would do for your Instagram.’

  ‘I don’t think Instagram’s going to help me get a job in theatre.’ Especially as mine’s private.

  ‘Babe, like it or not, it’s all about social media these days. You remember Lauren Rose?’

  How could I forget her? She was the girl Miss Duke completely annihilated on the first day in front of everyone, just for not being perfectly groomed. (I never saw her after that in anything less than a full face and killer heels.) ‘Er, yeah,’ I say.

  ‘Well, she told me she went for an advert casting to be, like, “friend at the cinema”. And they asked her how many followers she had! For an advert. Can you believe it? That’s what we’re up against. And that’s why you need to do whatever this Sam tells you.’

  ‘But she’s only singled me out because of last year,’ I say. ‘Not because of my talent.’

  ‘So? You know you’re talented. Wouldn’t it be good for the world to know that you’re not just the little girl who needed saving? All anyone thinks they know about you is that you let two girls kidnap you and force you to sing in a cage until your friends rescued you.’

  ‘They were blackmailing me,’ I say. ‘And it wasn’t a cage; it was a vocal booth.’

  ‘Babe, I know that. You know that. But they do not. My point is, there’s so much more to you than what people have seen. You can make this work for you, Nettie. Get the exposure on your own terms.’ She calls over to Leon, who’s stretching out his quads at the barre. ‘Leon! Back me up here. Shouldn’t Nettie do the documentary?’

  Leon releases his leg with a loud exhale of breath. ‘Maybe. A great blow for artistic integrity, though, the day Instagram is more of a consideration than talent.’ He watches Sam leaving with Jade, then walks over to the door and holds it open.

  ‘So you think I shouldn’t do it?’ I say, as we walk out into the corridor.

  ‘I think you’ll be in the documentary whether you like it or not,’ he replies, following us through the door. ‘We’ve already had to sign the consent forms. You might as well use it to your advantage.’

  ‘Would you do it, though?’

  ‘Ah,’ he says. ‘Well, that’s a bit different. I’m not sure exposure’s what I want, right now.’

  Kiki looks somewhere between astonished and disgusted. ‘But of course you want it.’

  Leon checks there’s no one around. ‘I’m only out at college,’ he says. ‘And even then, I’m fairly private. What if the interview makes some reference to my sexuality and my father sees it? Or if something comes out on social media? It only takes one comment . . .’

  ‘OK, fair,’ concedes Kiki. ‘You have reason to be cautious. But, Nettie, it’s different for you. This Sam is handing it to you on a plate. Babe, if you pass up this opportunity, I swear I will die just so that I can haunt you for the rest of your life.’

  That word again. Opportunity. There’s no doubt that in this business it has a lot to do with success. But when I started at Duke’s, I was determined not to let my mother’s name give me any sort of advantage. Isn’t this the same?

  At what point does taking an opportunity become an abuse of privilege?

  CHAPTER 4

  ‘Oh, Nettie, it’s fine. It’s not like I’ve got my cock out.’

  Alec’s appeared in a monochrome sequinned dress that he found in a vintage store. It’s a little tight, to say the least. Fletch and Luca are having a party at their place to mark our first fortnight back at Duke’s. They’ve chosen Sparkle and Shine as the theme in Seb’s honour now that he’s away in New York.

  ‘I’m just not sure it . . . fits you?’ I say, circling my finger to indicate he should turn slowly.

  He obliges, whipping his head round at the last minute like a six-year-old learning to spot. ‘Bodycon, babe. And there’s not exactly bags of room in yours. Although hot pink sequins are undeniably a winning look for you.’

  ‘Maybe you should take a backup, in case it splits.’

  ‘If it splits, more of me to look at, which is a big yay for everyone. Anyway, I’ve decided I’m not messing around this year; I’m going for it. In every aspect of my life. No backups, no consolation prizes. Second place is for losers. I’m going to look the best, be the best, win the Duke’s Awards . . .’

  ‘They’re not until May!’

  ‘The point is, when they come, I’ll be ready for them. I want the world to see I’m a winner, that I’ve made something of my life.’

  I’m not sure how any of this relates to a black-and-white sequinned dress, but the look on Alec’s face tells me that he means it. I guess I’ve felt the same in a smaller way – coming back for second year means a fresh start, a chance to make my mark, to show people I’ve found my voice – it’s natural to have renewed ambition. But there’s a vehemence behind Alec’s words that’s slightly alarming. I know better than to question him when he’s in one of these moods, but I’ve a feeling this won’t be the last I hear of it.

  ‘OK,’ I say. ‘But don’t blame me if you end up in a pair of Fletch’s old jeans.’

  The door’s open when we arrive, sounds of music and chatter wafting down the otherwise quiet street. Fletch and Luca are in the crowded kitchen, dutifully putting all the bottles in a corner and trying to tip a huge sack of ice into a bucket without knocking into anyone.

  ‘Hey, you,’ I say to Fletch.

  Unfortunately, they both turn around. Luca, realizing I’m not talking to hi
m, gives me a good-natured casual wave before going back to the bottles. Fletch squeezes through to meet me while I try to rub out the giant sign on my forehead that says awkward. The last time I came to a party here, I got completely wasted and ended up snogging Luca in a game of spin the bottle (before Fletch and I were together, to clarify). We’re just friends, and it’s all cool now, so I don’t know why I’m making it weird.

  ‘You just get more beautiful every time I see you,’ says Fletch. ‘How is that possible?’ He lifts me up and kisses me, and all the awkwardness melts away. It’s like nothing else exists for that second except the softness of his lips against mine.

  ‘What’s with the blue?’ I say, when he puts me back down. He’s not wearing anything shiny but seems to have painted a superhero mask over his eyes.

  ‘Michael Stipe,’ he says. ‘R.E.M.?’ Seeing my blank look, he adds, ‘ “Shiny Happy People”?’

  ‘Oh, right – that’s a song, isn’t it?’ I mean, if it’s not in a musical, don’t expect me to know it.

  ‘It’s a good job I love you.’

  Luca comes over. ‘Anyone need a drink? Because I’m all over it.’ He hands me a vodka and Coke.

  ‘Thanks, Luca.’

  Alec, who’s been opening a bottle of expensive gin he’s brought with him, reaches for some tonic. ‘So, how are my boys doing without Seb?’ he says to Fletch and Luca. ‘Any news?’

  ‘Nope,’ says Fletch.

  Alec gives him a significant look. ‘Or news in general. I thought there might b—’

  ‘No news,’ says Luca, glancing at Fletch as if there definitely is news.

  ‘Ooh, Luca, are you sitting on something exciting?’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, Luca – if you’ve got an announcement, now would be the time to make it,’ says Alec. His eyes flicker back to Fletch, who’s watching Luca anxiously.

  Luca looks from me to Fletch to Alec. ‘No – I . . .’ Muttering something about ice, he retreats to the back door.

  ‘Does he actually have an announcement?’ I say, half joking, but then I catch another glance between Alec and Fletch. ‘What’s going on?’