"X-tasy? I know I've been saying that you need to let go, but are you sure about this?" I heard genuine concern in her voice. "I mean, think about it, Kels. What kind of door are you opening? And can you handle whatever's on the other side?"
I knew the answer then, and I know it now: I'm opening a door that should stay closed. But what choice do I have?
I need this job. I need to help my brother.
Besides, I'd kicked that door wide open the moment I agreed to go to the audition in Nia's place. I hadn't known it at the time. I hadn't planned it. But now that it's open, I can't go back.
All I can do is hope that he'll help me.
All I can do is try to protect my heart.
I exhale slowly, then shift my torso to stretch out my other side, trying to concentrate on my body instead of the mish-mash of thoughts in my head. I'm successful for about seven seconds, then Madonna's voice starts to fade out and the audience applauds and shouts a few catcalls. Moments later, the girl bounces back into the dressing area. I hadn't been watching, but from the way she's smiling, I'm guessing she did okay.
That's two so far I have to beat.
The girl who's performing immediately before me wrings her hands as she stands in front of the curtain, then turns and looks in my direction, her eyes wide with fear.
I smile sympathetically, but the truth is that I don't understand that kind of stage fright. The fear of making a mistake, sure. But being on stage is like being alive, but in a world that's perfect and beautiful, and where I'm always in control.
Her music starts, and she makes a little squeaking noise before bounding onto the stage when her name is called. As soon as she's through the curtain, I hurry over to the dressing area and sit at the sticky, stained dressing table I'd claimed. I know I have time. The staff already told us that after she dances, there will be a ten-minute break for the audience to order fresh food and drinks. Then I'll perform, followed by the rest of the girls.
I dig in my purse for my lip balm, and as I do, I see my phone light up with a call. It's on silent, and I consider letting it ring through to voicemail, but it's Griffin.
I press the button to connect, "Hey, make it fast. I'm in the middle of something."
"No prob. I was just hoping you could come over tonight. There's noise on the tracks during the chase scene."
"Really? That sucks. We nailed that scene." Griff's a voice actor. Or, at least, he's a struggling part-time voice actor, although he's starting to get more work as his reputation grows. But my brother's also scrappy, and so he's written and is producing his own podcast. Kind of a modern day Beauty and the Beast meets The Count of Monte Cristo.
I've read all the scripts, and it's brilliant.
He hasn't aired any of the episodes yet; he wants to have the entire season finished before he puts it out. He says it's so that he won't lose steam if it sucks and gets no subscribers. I say it's smart because he's going to be doing so many media interviews and fielding so many job offers that he won't have as much time to spend in the studio.
His cast is made up primarily of other voice actors he's met over the years, but he really wants me involved. So he's given me a bit part in every episode. In the one he's talking about, I'm a homeless girl with three scenes. I'm not an actress, but I can't deny it's fun, and I love the idea of having been a part of something I'm sure is going to put my brother on the map.
"We'll nail it again," he says cheerfully, because nothing ever gets Griffin down. Well, almost nothing. "But I want to get it redone now so I can edit it tomorrow night after that cocktail party. You're still going with me, right?"
"Honestly, I should bail. You ought to take a date."
He sighs, then repeats. "You're still going with me, right?"
I roll my eyes and mimic his sigh. "Of course. Do you honestly think I'd miss a party where there's free food and alcohol? I'm totally there."
I'm joking, of course. Well, mostly. The salary of a kindergarten teacher is not a shiny treasure chest of gold, and that's even when you throw in the extra money I earn teaching dance during the summer. Which means I pinch pennies as a matter of course. Only now that I'm saving for Griffin's treatment, I've been pinching them so hard the little copper devils are practically disintegrating between my fingers.
"Anyway, I can't come tonight," I continue. "I'm tied up for a while. But I'll come over tomorrow after I teach my Zumba class. I'll just change at your place and we can leave for the party after we redo the recording."
"Sounds good."
"Great. I'll be there. Unless you decide to take a date in the meantime."
"Give it a rest, Kels."
I know I should shut up, but my brother is awesome, and if he'd just put himself out there more, I know he'd find someone. "There are a couple of girls taking my Wednesday Barre class who I think you'd really like."
He mutters something I can't make out, which is probably a good thing. "Tell you what, when you come over, you can give me a list of all the dancers you think are perfect for me, and then I'll tell you the reason why they're not. There's just the one reason, Kels. And we both know what it is."
I grimace, knowing I'm poking his one sore spot, but I can't seem to help it. "Griff--"