Zoe waited nervously outside the hall, alternating between warming up and feeling as though she were going to be sick from the nerves. She remembered what her teacher had told her, to pretend she was just back at her class, no pressure, no judgement, just dancing her heart out.
"Zoe Hanson?" a lady called, sticking her head out of the door.
Zoe took a deep breath and went inside, handing her music to the guy handling that department, then took her place on the dancefloor, standing in first position.
"First," the same lady called, then wrote something in her notepad. "Second."
Zoe moved to second position seamlessly.
"Third."
She moved to the next.
"Fourth."
More notes.
"Fifth."
A nod of the head.
"Sixth, if you can."
Zoe did so, keeping her movements fluid and her posture perfect.
"Alright, when you're ready."
She gave a slight nod and looked at the guy she'd given her music to. Moments later, the familiar strands of a slightly modified "Lulla Belle" were playing through the hall.
Grand-plié. Arabesque penchée. Grande battement en cloche.
"Was just like being at her ballet class, no one watching..."
Batterie. Brisé. Tours chaînés déboulés. Fouetté jeté.
Where lovely girls go...
Fouetté rond de jambe en tournant. Grand jeté.
Zoe felt the familiar aches and pains in her muscles, something that had always signalled a good job to her. If it didn't hurt, she hadn't done it right.
"Thank you, Miss Hanson."
Zoe nodded and went to collect her things.
Now for the wait.