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( CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: WHATTA MAN ) August, 1993
❝well, I like 'em real wild, b-boy style by the mile. ❞
◯
"Good morning ladies!" Devon Emmet proudly walked onto the set, located in downtown New York, dressed in his best pair of sneakers, a bandana and his signature smile sitting on his glowing face. It was officially day one of shooting Breakthrough, and the minute Devon arrived, he was happy to see his costars already there.
Tyron, Antonne, Jaylen, Trey, Keenan and Sam. Devon chose these six local dancers to embody the supporting roles in this movie, and he was more than happy with his decision. "Welcome to the Breakthrough set," Devon proudly said, outstretching his arms as he gestured towards the grand cameras, the set assistants, the film equipment and the catering tables. It screamed Hollywood, and Devon was more than ready to bring a little bit of New York to the silver screen.
"Aye, Devon's here!" They all cheered, spotting the lead star strolling onto the set. They leapt forward, and Devon greeted them with open arms.
"I hope y'all are ready to work," Devon said, smiling big, "Y'all have a lot to learn."
"C'mon Drum, we ain't gotta learn anything, we the best dancers in New York!" Trey was surprisingly the one to say this, and that made the rest of the dancers emit a rowdy hoot of agreement. Devon couldn't help but roll his eyes. It was so interesting to see Trey, and other dancers like Sam, be so enthusiastic about this movie. Normally, their egos wouldn't allow them to show their glee, and it certainly wouldn't allow them to work in team environments.
For this movie to be successful, they all had to trust each other. "You are, but dancin' in the streets ain't the same as dancin' onscreen," Devon explained, giving them all a stern eye, "You need to learn proper formations, how to count, remember cues, and most of all, you need to learn how to act."
A snicker wafted over the six dancers, and Devon fought in a smile. "Listen, we're all a team, we needa work together to make this movie work, and that means y'all need to work hard, and listen to me," Devon emphasised his last words, deliberately eyeing Trey and Sam, two dancers who were notorious for disobeying instructions. They were cocky, which sometimes worked in their favour, but in other scenarios, it was extremely hazardous. Devon needed them to leave their egos at the door, "I won't accept anything less, aight?"
"Aight," A low rumble of agreements were exchanged, and Devon gave them all one last serious stare, making sure that they fully understood his words, because frankly, he wasn't playing around. Yes, Devon was still the same slick dancer from the streets, but he was also a performer who took his craft seriously. He'll be damned if he lets anyone mess up his art. It was go big or go home, work hard or be fired. Those were his terms, and they had to understand that.
