Part Seven

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Hey guys! Listen to the song on the side when the cue comes.

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The next day, my mom insisted on dropping me off at the dance arena. Oh and I wasn't complaining; it saved me from walking. So when she pulled the key out of the ignition and pulled the latch on her door to get out of the car, I just leant back further in the seat.

"Jesse, get out." she ordered, already shoving her door open.

"One more minute. This is so much better than walking in the hot sun." I reasoned, my face completely serious.

The death glare that came from that woman....Geesh, it scared all the crap outta me. I guess in a way I could understand why she'll be upset, after all she was doing me a favor. She could be at work right now.

Sparing myself from the yelling, I quickly exited the car, clamping my hands over my ears as she no doubt started lecturing me on how I was supposed to take things more seriously.

When we got to the reception, my mother quickly filled the clerk in on the reason for my presence and after five minutes or so, we were in the elevator.

The surrounding walls of the elevator wasn't your typical cooper, but a clear type of glass you rarely saw. The Reception was a bit less fancy with light pink walls and soft small chairs to sit on,but what did I care?

The elevator suddenly halted and I watched on in bore as the clear glass parted slower than a snail with a crutch. You'd think since it's so god-damn fancy it would at least work quicker.

After passing millions of doors, we finally stopped at one with a dumb old white sign labelled: Auditions!

That's when my face blanked completely. I was supposed to audition?

"I'm supposed to audition?" I gawked, as she stepped ahead holding the door open for me. Once I stepped inside, all I saw were multiple stations, each with a line of seats occupied by fancily dressed people with excellent posture. I turned to the left and saw a guy killing it as he worked through his choreography expertly, his crunches, slides and steps effortlessly executed. Was I that good? Freaking doubted it.

Each station was separated by a thin wall of glass, had a giant sign proclaiming their respective numbers, and the place also reeked off confusion since there were probably twenty different stations and all consisted off a stereo pounding musical beats. For the boys: hardcore rap, and typical for the girls:pop. I so wasn't going to be typical.

"The receptionist told me that all the stations are filled except station number nine." mom notified me. I followed her gaze and saw a girl of Asian descent, dressed with an elaborately colored leotard as she executed her beloved ballet. She was good I must admit. After staring in a daze for a decade, she finally stopped and waved at the judges, her face showing nervousness. She was doubting herself after she had done unexplainably well.

Mom quickly began removing my backpack and shoved me forward confusing the remaining crap outta me. "Good luck." she said.

I turned around and nodded simply because I had not come up with a reason why she might have said this. Probably because there was a lot of people around. Yeah, that.

I tried pushing away my trail of thoughts that would no doubt distract me and strutted confidently forward. Once there; I greeted the judges, making sure to smile but not too much to be ranked as perky.

"Hello, you must be Jesse Zylka." a woman with graying yet perfectly styled hair said, her tone warm. I mentally relaxed.

I just settled for a brief wave. "The one and only."

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