The Chance To Dance (for you) [Lawlight]

The Chance

"Thierry, take them downstairs to learn the lyrics."

After four and a half hours of staring at his line of aspiring chorus dancers, L needed to begin making some decisions.

The first cut was easy enough, weeding out the talent from the promising, the promising from the hopeful, the hopeful from the struggling, and the struggling from the delusional not-a-chance-in-hells. His prospects had been given two grueling, intense dance routines for their auditions; one with a focus on ballet and the other in jazz.

With ballet, L was hoping to see evidence of technique in his dancers. Classical dance is the root of all other styles, after all, so a solid foundation there would increase a person's likelihood of being able to pick up on more complicated moves and execute them well.

Those who excelled in the ballet section tended to be more flexible than others, especially in the legs, and there was a certain polish to their movements. This would, of course, be a marvelous asset to the show if they were cast. However, this precision could sometimes lead to rigidity and/or a stone face as a result of concentrating too hard, making sure every move was perfect. A rather cruel twist of irony. Contrary to popular belief, L was not looking for perfection from his dancers, but rather a show of grace and agility.

The jazz was more about style, fluidity. It was L's favorite to watch. Of course getting the moves down was important, but L mainly wanted to see originality, someone making the dance their own while still being able to blend in with a group. Timing was also an important factor this round.

Jazz dancers had a rather unique problem, in that they often tried to be too showy, too unique. They could go so big with their movements and extensions that they could tire themselves out before the dance was over, and then they'd wind up looking less hirable than if they'd just toned it down and tried to fit nicely within their group.

Dance was a paradox in that way, L had decided. You must stand out, but you must blend in. You must be free, loose, but you mustn't go overboard. You must be poised, but you mustn't be stiff. You must be expressive, but you can't reveal too much. You must dance with fire- electricity- shooting straight out from your fingertips and into the blood of all those watching, but you must conserve your energy and let it come from inside or you'll snuff yourself out, a candle in the  wind.

L had pondered the existence of these contradictory truths for the better part of two decades, tried to find the perfect in between and create true, honest art in his dance. But in himself, he found a soul that could not manifest his own desires, a body that could not enact that which he sought from his craft. Rather, he discovered he had a sharper mind for directing and choreographing, instead pulling the paradox from within others and living vicariously through their performances.

But while some could on occasion come close, no person could ever seem to perfectly recreate what L had envisioned.

Except one.

Today, L had started with three hundred auditionees. Three hundred soon became one hundred, one hundred became fifty, fifty became thirty five, and thirty five became sixteen (seventeen)- the penultimate cut. One dancer out of all the others had L unable to tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried.

Ballet, flexibility, poise, grace. Jazz, fluidity, energy, expression. Freedom. Ease. Grandeur. He continuously stood out from all the rest, no matter the competition. He bested them all at every turn. His paradox.

So why was he here?

Thierry clapped, a fake yet warm smile plastered on his lips. "Alright, folks, please follow me this way! We'll be learning the lyrics to one of the numbers from the show, and I'll be teaching you the tap combination."