Dance, Lust And Them

 “Drinks l8r?” she asked.

 “Def,” he responded.

 “Thx for the help with the studio.”

 “I showed them ur dance video—it was all u, girl.”

 She smiled and put her phone away. Curtis could be pretty romantic when he wanted to be. Even though they weren’t dating, Janelle felt like they were as close as most couples were. They helped each other out when necessary and always had one another’s backs even in the stickiest of situations.

 Janelle thought back on one particularly bad situation a few months ago when she’d tried out for Shallow Hills Dance Studio. The team had been filled with white people, and they had suffered her out immediately. Just like her dreams of becoming a ballet dancer were affected by her race, so too was her dream of becoming a hip-hop dancer. After they told her that a woman of her kind wasn’t fit to work in a place like that, Curtis picked her up and took her out to eat at a 24-hour diner. He told her those white people weren’t worth her time, and they had no idea what true talent was.

 “Have you ever been rejected like that before?” Janelle had asked, taking large gulps of her coffee.

 “All the time. In fact, every time I leave the house I feel like everyone is judging me. But I just got to keep my head up high and ignore these fools, because they have another thing coming if they think they can hold down the illustrious Curtis,” he said, making a basketball-tossing motion.

 Janelle laughed and calmed down a bit. Curtis was always making her feel better about things like that. It was her first day on the set and she’d already managed to make a friend. Janelle took it as a positive sign from her mother, who was no doubt watching over her from Heaven. It made her sad to think about the fact that her mother would never watch her perform. Before she passed away, she gave Janelle a golden cross necklace for her birthday. She wore it now, even though she knew she should probably take it off for the dance rehearsal.

 After they were done with makeup, they moved Janelle and the others into a dressing room. They were all going to wear black vinyl pants with crop tops. Each piece had a bright pink stripe crawling up the side. Janelle was also supposed to put on a pair of bright pink sneakers. To her surprise, a woman knocked on the door and asked her what size she was. When she said nine, the woman slid a pair of neon sneakers beneath the door in her size.

 This place has it all, she thought to herself. How did I not think of applying to a studio like this sooner? This way I’m surrounded by people that look and think and act exactly like me. I only wonder what Vance will be like. I hope he’s as nice as Lisa was making him out to be.

 In another room with a two-way mirror, Vance Quick was sitting at the desk smoking a cigar. He was waiting for the girls to arrive and was trying to relax, as he knew most of them were new to his set. His team of choreographers had already set up a dance routine they wanted to teach the girls over the course of the next hour. After it was over, he would go out and call the names of all the women he wanted to be on the team for his new music video. If their names weren’t called, they’d still be able to work at the studio but would be assigned to a different, more low-key project.

 There was one girl who had caught his eye. It was none other than Janelle, the beautiful cheerleading vixen. With her pigtails in blue ribbons and her thick thighs, Janelle surely was a sight for sore eyes. Vance waited with anticipation as the girls got dressed and entered the studio one-by-one. The choreographer put on one of his songs and proceeded to teach the girls the dance moves, step-by-step. He spotted Janelle almost immediately.

 She was standing at the front of the line, and was one of the only new girls who seemed to pick up the moves easily. Vance watched as the others fumbled through some of the moves, laughing because they were nervous or overly excited. He saw some of his main crew—Lisa and Evelyn—dancing the choreographed moves with expertise. They’d all been working together for several years, and knew each other quite well.

 And there was Janelle, memorizing every move with intent and purpose.

 “Her,” he said to his producer. “I want her.”

 “Are you sure?” his producer asked, tapping his bright orange glasses. “She’s pretty new to the studio.”

 “Mmm,” Vance said, waving his hand. The conversation was done; he’d made his choice.