I spent the month
leading up to the auditions working on my routine. I wanted to do something for
my father, praying that he was watching from heaven. In fact, the song I chose,
“Angel,” was his favorite song and we had made plans for us to dance to it at
my wedding. Now, I was using it as a tribute to celebrate my father and honor
his memory at this audition. Rose was also working on her audition, but her
dance style was different than mine. She was a hip hop dancer but she looked
like Barbie. It was weird seeing her get down and ‘dirty’ while she had a perky
blonde ponytail and the body of a prima ballerina. It worked for her, though.
Just before we left
to drive to Portland, we asked a few of the dance majors and a number of the
dance professors to give us critiques on our audition numbers. I wanted the
experience of performing in front of an audience and Rose just wanted to show
off. Rose went first, using a mash up of several different songs for her piece.
Her two minute number was filled with explosive moves, fancy tricks and
intricate, but smooth footwork. When she finished, she held her final pose with
an aggressive stare. The dancers applauded and whooped it up. Rose moved to the
front of the studio, sliding gracefully to the floor, asking for any and all
critique. There wasn’t much, really. The only thing I noticed was a rushed
section in the beginning and the rest of the dancers agreed. Rose nodded,
mentally reworking the choreography.
I was next and I was
nervous. Almost to the point where I was sick. I walked to the center of the
stage, taking my opening pose. With a barely perceptible nod, the music began
and I danced for my father. When the music faded away, I barely was able to
keep the tears at bay. This piece was cathartic for me, but it reminded me of
what I was missing. Every day, I would give anything to hear his voice, to
smell his cheap cologne, to tease him about the cruiser, to just be with him. I
barely made it to the bathroom, throwing up and sobbing on the floor of the
smelly, disgusting restroom. Rose found me, hugging me closely but never saying
a word. She’d been there through every nightmare, every emotional breakdown and
every moment of my grief. She was there now and I loved her for it.
“How am I supposed to
get through this without crying at the audition?” I whispered, my face pressed
to Rose’s shoulder.
“You’re stronger than
you give yourself credit for, Bells,” Rose said, tightening her arms around me.
“That piece…it was gorgeous. I could
see every emotion on your face, every moment that you shared with your dad.
From the first step you took into a dance studio, to his funeral. There was not
a dry eye in that studio and no one had any critiques. Charlie, he’s smiling
down at you and cheering at how beautiful you were.”
“Really?” I sniffled.
“Really,” Rose answered, kissing my head.
"Angel" by Sarah McLachlan
Song that Bella danced to for her father
Song that Bella danced to for her father
