LightWeight

Step Seven

Dedicated to : CharlieLovesAll Because she reads ever ychapter and comments with true dedication!

"Again." I spoke to my dancers. They groaned in response, but that wasn't my concern right now. My concern was making sure this dance was perfect-down to the weakest link. It was the first show with my dancers, and we were a month into the tour. There was no room for mistakes. None. "One...Two...Three, Go."

The upbeat melody began and they started to dance. For the most part they were perfect. Everyone appeared to be on the same page. No one was lagging behind and no one was going ahead. It was perfect to the human eye, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief…Until Melody tripped and almost took down another dancer to keep her balance.

"Stop!" I hopped on the stage and went to her. She was already standing back up, wiping the sweat off her brow. "What was that Mel? Do you want to keep rehearsing this thing?"

"No. God, it was a mistake. A simple mistake."

"A mistake thousands of people would realize and make us the laughing stock of the show."

"Us or you?" She sneered.

"What?" I asked, wondering if I heard her correctly or if my hearing was messed up from standing by the speakers.

"Nothing." She put the towel on her shoulder. "Nothing. It's hot; we've been practicing for three hours. Can we go now?"

"No." I jumped off the stage. "Get in your places. We're running this again, three, two, one, GO!"

I watched with high scrutiny as they perfected each step. It was perfect; I know. I don't have just any dancers; I have the best dancers in the Chicago district! I was on the dance team with them in high school, so I know how much talent they have. I know they're giving their all. I know they're doing all they can do get it perfected to the T.

But something wasn't right, and it frustrated me.

Without thinking I yelled 'Stop' and stormed out the room. I went in the vacant bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. My caramel tanned skin shined from the perspiration of my frustration. My hazel eyes glimmered in the unknown, and my pouty lips straightened with the realization that I was cracking. And if I was cracking: my calm facade could only last so much longer.

My muscles tensed at the urge to punch the glass but I knew I couldn't do that. Punching the glass would do nothing but scar me. I have enough scars already; I don't need ones that visibly bleed now. I sat on the floor and gripped my flat-ironed hair in both hands, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm myself down. They weren't working.

Looking in the mirror again, I remembered all of the days from when I was young. The days of constant bullying at school and coming home to arguing. What's the point of a home if there's no peace? Then again it was more of a house than a home. Just somewhere to lay your head and rest...

No...Don't come back, don't come back, I thought to myself. This is neither the time nor place for those memories to come back, but of course they didn't care. They swarmed through my head. Each thought hit like a tornado to a toothpick castle. The tears streaked my cheeks as they stormed down like angry soldiers, and I eventually began choking on my sobs from trying to hold them in.

It wasn't long until someone began hitting on the door.

"Desiree!" Bang Bang Bang. "Open the door! Are you okay?"