Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
APRIL
I ’m outside Scarlett’s studio at the crack of dawn. Scarlett told me the previous evening that she had an early choreography session and would like me to attend. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity to see a master at work, although that was before I spent most of the night tossing and turning.
I let myself in. Scarlett supplied me with the code to get through from reception into the main studio area. The glass wall in front of me shows a group of dancers warming up. Scarlett, in the midst of it all, laughing at something a dancer says. As if sensing me, she looks up and smiles. If I’m honest, Scarlett Dupree is not what I expected. She’s at the top of her field, but she is not stuck up or snobby. She’s been nothing but warm and welcoming.
“April, come in,” she says, throwing open the door and calling over to me.
Entering the room, there’s a group of ten dancers busy stretching.
“Throw your stuff at the front. Get warmed up, and then I’ll introduce you to the gang,” she adds .
Too shell-shocked to say much, I go through my usual routine. Limbering up and warming each muscle group, pleased I’ve been using Caleb’s gym to keep myself supple.
“Right, everyone,” Scarlett shouts, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Morning.”
There are a few chuckles, mainly because the sun is barely up, and we’re all standing in a dance studio, ready to go.
“I know it’s early, but most of you have places to go and people to see. I’d like to introduce you to April. She’ll be working with us for the foreseeable future. Please make her welcome.”
The group turn towards me, each taking turns to introduce themselves. I’m a little surprised at their welcome as most dancers I’ve met, are highly competitive and, therefore, distant towards the new girl or guy. But that is clearly not something Scarlett puts up with.
“April, come and stand with me. Team, I want you to run through the routine. Show April what we have so far.”
The group move as one, each taking up their position as I move to stand beside Scarlett. She turns to me and smiles.
“Watch. I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
My face must relay my confusion because Scarlett chuckles.
“Pardon?” I say, choking on my surprise.
“There’s something wrong with the routine. I want another set of eyes.”
“But—”
I want to tell her she’s made a mistake. I’m not an experienced choreographer, only ever having made up my own routines. Scarlett has got the wrong impression. What has Caleb told her about me? Whatever it is, I’m about to embarrass myself.
She looks over as if sensing my discomfort. “Don’t think. Just watch and tell me what you see. ”
I nod, not sure what else to do.
When she starts the music, the dancers begin to move. The music is from a band I recognise, or at least I think I recognise the tones of the lead singer. My eyes track the dancers, listening to the lyrics and watching their moves.
The track ends, and I’m immersed.
“Again,” Scarlett says, not asking me, almost as if she’s aware I’m lost in the moment.
The music and dancers start up again. My brain breaks down the moves of each set. The hours I spent in Di’s dance studio come back to me, dancing solo in front of the mirrors, choreographing routine after routine to my favourite songs. Then, my time at the conservatoire.
“Take a break,” Scarlett says after they’ve run through the routine three more times.
I watch as they file out, heading to the canteen, the place I first sat with Caleb and Scarlett.
“What do you think?” Scarlett says, turning her attention to me.
“It’s a great routine,” I say.
She raises a brow. “Not what I want to hear,” she adds. “Tell me honestly. Your body language gives you away.”
I right myself. What body language? Of course, there are things I would have included, done differently, but that’s only my opinion. The lyrics suggest something different to me—but this is Scarlett Dupree. She’s today’s master of choreography.
“Does it help if I tell you it’s not my routine?” she adds, giving me a knowing smile.
My shoulders loosen up, and she chuckles. “Even if it was, I would still want you to be honest with me. That’s my number one rule when people work with or for me. I’m not superwoman and even I can make the wrong decision. I’m not so arrogant that I can’t take feedback. ”
“Why?” I turn to her fully. “What’s this about?”
“I’ve watched your tapes, April. Spoken to your old teachers at the conservatoire.”
I don’t think I’d be more shocked if she struck me.
Scarlett shrugs. “Why did you drop out? According to your teachers, you had a promising future.”
I shake my head and grab my bag. My past is my past. It needs to stay there.
“Why April?” Her voice is unapologetic, making me drop my bag and spin around to face her.
“Why?” I snap, unable to help myself. “Because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had no one to pave my way. No support. From eighteen, I was alone. I was expected to stand on my own two feet according to the state.”
There is no way she could understand.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. When I open them again and exhale, I look at Scarlett. “Sorry, that was rude.” She waves away my apology as if unnecessary, but I know I need to explain. “My student loan covered my tuition, but to live, I worked two jobs on top of studying, twenty hours a week in the evenings, just to get by.”
I lower my voice. I hate discussing my past and what might have been.
“Then studying began to clash with work,” I add more calmly. “One could not survive without the other. Believe me, I tried. In the end, I burnt out.”
When I finally look at Scarlett, I see her arms folded over her chest. Her face gives nothing away after my outburst.
“Tell me what was wrong with the routine, April.”
With nothing left to lose—that’s exactly what I do.