The central judge clears her throat. “Bear with us, Miss Conners. We're just having a discussion.”
“Sure.” I try to sound upbeat, but there’s a crack in my voice I can’t hide. It betrays every ounce of humiliation buzzing under my skin.
Not wanting my pitiful crying to be heard on the mic, I move back a little. That’s when I notice there are other people in the rink. Their soft chatter carries through the cold arena, and my stomach lurches violently.
Will this end up online?
Will I be the next “girl eats ice” meme?
Will everyone see me fall on my ass in front of a panel of judges I desperately wanted to impress?
“Okay, Ms. Conners,” the middle judge starts. “We've had a quick discussion and you are by far the best vocalist we've auditioned for this role. For any role, frankly. Your voice is magical and works perfectly with Princess Blanca.”
“Thank you.” It comes out small, shaky, because the compliment hits somewhere painfully soft inside me.
“Your skating skills could be improved,” another judge adds, and I nod immediately.
“Agreed. If I get through this audition, I will continue to build my skill up.”
“Thank you,” the middle judge continues, “but I don’t think we’d be able to continue with you as a solo act.”
My shoulders slump and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I knew it. I fucking knew it, but I'm still disappointed.
“Do you have a skate partner?” she asks.
I lean close to the microphone. “A skate partner?”
“Yes,” she says, smiling kindly. “Your look and your voice are fantastic for the role, and we would like you to continue—with a partner who could play Prince Alaric.”
I stare at her like she’s speaking another language.
“Prince Alaric?” I echo, because my brain has stopped processing information and is now just repeating nouns like a parrot.
The judge nods again, patient, as if this is all very normal and not a complete emotional whiplash. “Correct. We could potentially change Princess Blanca’s set so she’s partnered with Prince Alaric. We think if you had someone who can support you on the ice, your voice would shine.”
“You’d change the set?”
“Potentially. If you can find someone who supports you on the ice well.”
A partner role means pair skating. Lifts. Spins. All the things I definitely cannot do.
“Um, un—”
Before I can finish, a voice cuts through the murmurs in the audience.
“I'm her partner.”
I freeze.
Scotty?
No. There’s no way he’s here.
He’s not—he wouldn’t—
I turn slowly, my heart stopping completely.
