MR. O
TARYN
“No, no, no. Stop.” Carole stops the music and looks at us as if we were the scum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “This is a disaster. Where are the beautiful dancers I saw during your solo? Jodie, you look like you swallowed a broomstick. Loosen those muscles; I need to see fluid, big, confident movements. Talia, you’re one beat behind everyone else. Gen and Olivia, you’re supposed to be cheerleaders. Smile, for crying out loud. I hate the expression ‘resting bitch face,’ but I can’t think of another way to describe the scowls on your faces.”
I would have never thought I would feel sympathy for Gen at this point, but when her scowl deepens, I almost can’t blame her. There’s nothing worse than someone telling you to smile to make you feel even less inclined to do so.
But Carole’s list of grievances is far from complete.
“Lily, your arms look like wet noodles. And Greta, did you become three inches shorter overnight? I lost you in the group. You’re practically invisible; which tells me that your movements lack the necessary emphasis and the expressive edge we want from a Shooting Star. Taryn,” her critical eyes finally land on me.“You’re the only one who seems to be able to watch, listen and replicate the dance we’re trying to teach. Well done.”
Lexi, the chief choreographer, nods. “I agree with everything Carole just said. You have tonight to practice these dance moves and show us first thing tomorrow morning that you can keep our pace. Because tomorrow we have two more dances to learn in the morning and makeovers in the afternoon.”
“Makeovers?” Jodie asks.
“Yes,” Adrianna, Genevieve’s mom, steps forward to explain. “With theShooting Stars, we’re introducing a brand and selling a dream. You’re the beautiful girl next door. The ones every man wants to date and take home to meet his family, and every woman aspires to be. You’re beautiful, accomplished, classy, and poised. And there’s a precise image that fits this brand. When you auditioned, we didn’t just select the best dancers. We selected the women who have the right look or the potential to be the feminine ideal that is a Shooting Star Cheerleader. That means that we’ll teach you how to dress and curate your image to fit the aesthetic we have in mind. Tomorrow afternoon, you’ll come to the address I emailed you, and you’ll meet our team of hairstylists and makeup artists. We’ll assess your current look with them and make the necessary changes.”
Talia’s hand comes up.
“Yes, Talia?” Carole prompts her.
“Will the changes be obligatory? Or are we allowed to say no if we don’t like the hair color you pick or we don’t want to cut our hair?”
Adrianna Bergen’s tone brooks no argument. “The changes will be nonnegotiable. At the end of this week, after we do the first round of cuts to our current roster, you’ll be fitted for your Shooting Star uniforms. On that day, we’ll also ask you to jump on a scale for us. The contracts the thirty-two dancers selected for the team will have to sign will include a ‘look clause.’ Yourposition on the team will be subject to maintaining the look we choose for you tomorrow and to staying within five pounds of the weight recorded on uniform day.”
A chorus of worried murmurs spread through the forty-two women in the dance studio.
“Girls,” Carole claps her perfectly manicured hands to get everyone’s attention. “We’ll see you back here tomorrow morning at seven-thirty sharp. For those who wish to keep practicing, both this room and a couple of smaller studios on this floor are available. The gym is also open twenty-four hours for those who want to put in some cardio or a workout. There are also physiotherapists and massage therapists available every day, but for those you’ll need to book an appointment at least one day in advance. Make the most of all the amenities these facilities have to offer. But most importantly, make use of every single hour during camp, even if you aren’t in class. Remember that in the next six weeks we’ll have to cut ten dancers off the current roster of forty-two to have the final thirty-two. So make every hour, every minute count. Now you’re dismissed. See you all tomorrow morning.”
Some of the girls decide to stay in the studio and practice; a couple of smaller groups decide to go into one of the other available rooms to work on the dance we learned today. The cameras that were filming practice stayed in the larger studio to get some extra footage of the dancers who decided on some extra practice.
I fall in step with Jodie, Talia, and Sam headed to our locker room.
“Oof,” I shed the Lycra cropped top that’s part of our practice uniform. It’s pink and has a huge silver star on the chest with white jewels studding the edges. “I’m disgusting. I need to take a shower.”
“I mean, you could,” Jodie says. “But I was gonna keep practicing for an hour to see if I canloosen up, or whatever Carole meant with her feedback. I was hoping you’d stay, since you were the only one who performed this dance to Carole’s standards?”
Guilt coats my tongue. “I would love to, Jo-Jo, but I can’t. I have somewhere to be. But if you want to practice together, we could go into one of the small studios tomorrow morning, one hour before practice, and work together. You’ve got the choreography; you just need to work on making your movements a little more fluid. Is that ok?”
“Yeah, of course. Then I might put on one of my yoga videos and do that. I just feel tense.”
“If you practice tomorrow morning,” Talia chimes in. “Can I join? I always struggle to memorize a new dance; that’s why I was a little behind with the tempo today. Once the muscle memory sets in, I should be fine.”
I nod. “Of course. The more, the merrier.”
Genevieve rolls her eyes. “Why are you asking her to help you? Carole didn’t critique anything about my actual dancing. And as your future captain, I’d be happy to help. We could go back to the main studio, so we get filmed. Some extra airtime would be cool. Since the auditions aired, I gained more than ten thousand new followers on each of my social media. I’ve already been offered a sponsorship by a dance clothing brand. We should all take advantage of this spotlight.”
Jodie considers the offer. “Are you sure this is why you’re offering your help? Or do you have an angle?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.” Gen bats her long lashes, her blue eyes shining with innocence.
“What I mean is that the last time you offered to help one of us, Taryn ended up flashing millions of viewers during the livestream of our solos. Are you going to try to get me and Talia kicked out too?”
Gen’s hand flies to her chest. “That was an accident.” She sounds genuinely wounded, and I wonder if we judged her too quickly. “If that’s what I get as a thank you for my help, forget it.”
“You would be believable if you hadn’t been caught whispering into Carole’s ear that you thought that Taryn’s accident was staged to get more attention. I’m with Jodie. What’s your agenda?” Talia confronts her.
“There is no agenda,” Gen bites out. “I just wanted to help, and I thought that being filmed was a nice extra perk. As I help you with your choreography, you could help me by reminding me to smile.”
