“In the middle I want three sections. Dancers. Chorus. And dancers who also sing.” Soon everyone is in their groups, curiously looking around and memorizing who they’ll be working alongside until this thing moves north.
“Folks, I want to introduce Asher Gladstone visiting us from New York.” Marion perks up, body shifting to a more graceful posture as she examines him. They’re to play love interests, but she’s clearly enamored with where he hails from.
Good.
She’s a beauty.
Extremely talented.
Maybe she’ll capture his attention.
“He’s here because this production will be going to Broadway.”
Gasps ripple from those who didn’t know.
Samantha offers me a weak smile as our powerhouse choreographer continues, “This is a preview production. We’ll be performing in Atlanta only two weeks so that’s four for rehearsal, two performance, then some of you will be traveling with the show. Some will be replaced by Broadway talent.” A dramatic pause holds everyone’s suspense. “My advice? Become irreplaceable. Let’s begin!”
The only ones who don’t jump like someone stuck a firecracker under their butts are me and Asher.
He’s made. Locked in. Confident.
I’m wishing it had gone differently for Sam.
I’ve seen her dance a thousand times. She’s just as good as Marion. But despite being a member of the infamous Cocky Family—as everyone in Atlanta has nicknamed them—she’s the most humble talent in this room.
Ms. Galloway directs, “It’s Sunday morning, a rural town that would have twenty churches if they had more people. They don’t, so there are only two, built directly across from one another in hopes that if someone switches faiths, they’ll simply cross the street. But what’s happened is a separation between the town, an invisible line drawn center here, where you do not cross. When you leave church, you stare at who is on the other side, as if they are beneath you. Yes, just like that. Dancers and singers, you will fill in the townsfolk. For now, just stay back and watch. Families, as the play opens, you gather, eyeing each other as you converse with your preferred congregations. Marion, you will appear at the very last second. Asher, Logan, until that point, the two of you are joking around with each other. I’ve choreographed some great moves. You’re playing teenagers, as you know. The adults around you aren’t paying attention to you. So when you spot Marion—your Izzy—they will not see it. But we will.”
He nods, eyes shining like he’s finally getting excited about being here.
Galloway points, “Singers, stay where you are. You’ll be in the back, and that is where your song will begin. You are angels overlooking the scene. Your song is never heard by anyone but the audience and the dancers who come to life when you sing. Never the actors. They will not interact with you even when their own voices rise to combine.”
Everyone nods as they learn, shifting their weight, eager to impress.
“When you’re convening outside, actors and background dancers, I want low conversations, some smiles, mostly forced and watchful. I don’t want overdone theater-acting on my stage. Move now. Show me. Yes, like that. Good work. Love those glances. Pretend to be discreet but the lingering shows your judgment. Perfect. Marion, don’t be so obvious. I want you facing the audience but not that much. Be a part of the scene, don’t hog it.”
I glance to Samantha, but she’s engaged with greeting a fictional friend she hasn’t seen in a while in this imaginary world. It puts me back on track and I return to Asher, see him spotting “Izzy” just in time for Ms. Galloway to single me out.
“That’s right, Logan. Good, you see him. You’re worried. Just like that!”
I was worried you caught me staring at Sam. Don’t fuck this up, Logan.
This is your dream.
Chapter Seven
LOGAN
Samantha and I meet by our bags to dig around for snacks and water bottles. “You look great out there, Logan,” she quietly tells me under the echo of conversations. “I don’t think I’ve heard you sing before. Impressed.”
I run a hand through my hair. “You heard me. We did that play together in grade school.”
Playfully touching my abs she smiles, “Your voice changed a lot since then.”
Marion’s excitement pulls my attention. “Wow, this show is going to be so fun, right?”
Samantha looks up from her bag, producing a banana from it. “I love the story!”
Marion’s glance flicks to the fruit. “Extravagant choice, Sam.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never eat that much sugar when I’m training. There’s potassium, sure, but the sugars make you crash.”
“I’m just having one.”
“And that bar, how much is in that? I’m surprised they even still make that brand and market it to athletes. Who’re they kidding?” Marion rolls her eyes.
Samantha peels the unbruised, yellow skin and chomps down. “Guess that’s why I didn’t get the lead.”
I snort, a grin replacing my annoyance. Leave Sam to take care of herself.
Marion straightens her shoulders. “Guess so. You’ve gotta take this seriously if you want to be the best. Where do the best go?”
Behind her, Asher walks up. “I don’t know about that. I’ve been on Broadway stages with some mediocre assholes.”
I like the guy a little more for saying that. And Samantha does, too, which is unfortunate.
But Marion’s not buying it, even though she’s hiding the fact because she wants his attention. “You know better than I do, obviously. But the stars have to be the best. That’s what makes them watchable.” She touches his arm, not a first since they’ve been playing lovers all week. “Like you out there. You heard the steps once and had them. I’ve never seen anyone pick it up that quickly.”
Asher reaches over and rips a chunk off Samantha’s banana, as she reacts with a laugh. Shoving the spongy fruit in his mouth, he shrugs, “They’re not hard steps. Excuse me, I’ve gotta make a call.”
Crossing my arms as the three of us watch the big city
