With the beginning of another school year, the competition inside the walls of NYSPA is stronger than ever as a small group of students decides to revive the disbanded show choir club.
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SEASON TWO, EPISODE NINETEEN
NATIONALS
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A.J.
"I'M JUST GLAD I DIDN'T FRY MY HAIR FOR NO REASON," A.J. said, speaking into a recorder. Even right after a performance, there was no escaping the show choir blogs, parched for a statement, begging for some words, for some attention. A.J., being who she was, knew they were hovering around the backstage area, and someone would have to notice them eventually. Even after the invasion of privacy and the constant heartache they reminded her of, she'd gravitated towards them. The sweet, victorious scent of recognition. "I have a great feeling about this, but only quote me on this if we win. If we lose, you can say I was devastated."
She was electrified.
After reading every show choir competition manual she could get her hands on, she had come to the conclusion that caffeine didn't technically count as a performance-enhancing drug and, therefore, using (and abusing) it wouldn't disqualify the entire group because of her. Everything she touched buzzed back at her and, even with her heart threatening to jump out of her mouth, she felt like she was dancing on air.
She'd been great. She was certain of it. Everyone else had been, too, and they had been better than everyone who had performed before them, so there was no way they wouldn't qualify for Nationals. Diana had been brilliant, stellar, and even Gwen and Billie had managed to set their differences aside and come through for everyone else. It felt a bit too utopic to assume things in this business, but A.J. wanted to believe in the power of teamwork and all that.
That way, no one could yell at her about how she only cared about Broadway and Wicked and how she was using the club to satisfy her selfish agenda. That was what reviewers would call character development, she thought. She was pretty darn proud of herself.
The rest of the group came flooding back. A.J. craned her neck, in search of the only person that mattered, and everything else seemed to fade away the second she locked eyes with her. Miyu, panting, laughed between breaths at something Zara had said. As though she had felt A.J.'s eyes on her, she turned, beaming like the sun, and the universe exploded.
