Just Watch what Happens

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Missy's POV

I'd been on this trip for an hour and I had already run into someone, almost forget to eat, and I almost left my sketchbook on the last train.My sketchbook is the only thing other than dancing that truly makes me happy. on the last train, I had started to sketch without registering what I was drawing. A little bit later and I realized it was a picture of my family. I got up quickly to go to the bathroom to cry and ran into the guy with the water bottle. Great, I can't even get up correctly, how am I supposed to live by myself. the trip ended and I exited the train into the sleepless city of New York City. I ubered to my hotel room and settled down. The audition is first thing tomorrow. I wake to the sound of my alarm clock. It reads 9:30. My audition starts at 9:00. It's a 20-minute ride to the studio. I'm screwed. Stupid snooze button, I don't remember hitting it too many times though.

"Oh no!" I roll out of bed and get ready in record time. since I wanted to make a good impression, I wore my nicest dance outfit. Luckily I'd packed my bag the night before, so I didn't need to worry about that. I put my hair in a bun as I rushed out the door, and onto the trolley. I got off within walking distance to the studio. I checked my phone "9:57". I didn't know what time the audition ended so I went in any way. The curtains were drawn on the windows, which I thought was strange. I went in and stopped abruptly. It was a whole bunch of guys all in the middle of a grande jete. I was for sure in the wrong audition. They all landed simultaneously and looked at me. You would think that a lifetime of being a theater kid would make me immune to embarrassment, but no. My breath hitched and could almost feel the lovely shade of red my face had just decided to paint itself. 

"Yes?" A voice came from the front of the room. I looked towards it. It was Kenny Freaking Ortega! 

"Um, I think I'm in the wrong audition, sorry," I said as I closed the door. 

"What audition are you here for?" Kenny asked. Kenny asked! He was talking to me!

"Katherine from Newsies, " I said a little more confidently, now that the initial shock had worn off, I could feel my face returning to its normal shade. 

"Well, you're in the right place, just wrong time." he had the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, was he finding me amusing. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

"I'm sorry, what?" I said incredulously. 

"You're 45 minutes early," he said full on smiling now. 

"Oh, well I"ll come back."

"No, its okay, you can stay. Get warmed up, then we can audition you." This was the chance of a lifetime. There was no way on God's good green earth that I was passing this up. 

"Okay." I tried to hide the excitement in my voice. this was where a lifetime of being a theater kid came in.

"What's your name?" the lady sitting at the table asked.

"Missy Dowell," I said and for a fleeting moment I was scared that my name wasn't on the list, that my trip here was for nothing, but it left as quickly as it had come; I had quadruple-checked that. I was certain.  I walked to the barre, dropped my bag, put my earbuds in and started warming up. I finished my barre warm-ups quickly and moved to the floor. As I stretched, I watched the boys. they were all fantastic, definitely Broadway-worthy. I wondered how Kenny was going was going to pick, but when I looked at him, I saw a determined look on his face and I instantly knew that years of doing this was enough to pick out the tiny but fatal flaws. I suddenly got major anxiety. I tried to calm my nerves, reminding myself this was just another audition. For Broadway. 

"Alright, Missy Dowell. It's time." I yanked my earbuds out from my ears.

"What?" I said my heart starting to pound so fast I was sure I could see it against my ribcage.

"It's time." I guess they thought I hadn't heard them. I stood up, straightened my shorts and walked to the middle, only then did I realize that every. single. boy had situated themselves behind me to watch my audition. Fantastic.

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