Serial

Chapter Ten

I wanted to curl up and die. I'd already lost everything that I loved and my dreams of having a perfect life were over. I ran around the room, looking for something that could save me, but found nothing. Only hopelessness and darkness.

I could feel the end coming.

And finally, I gave up.

After looking around feverishly, I silently said goodbye to my parents and then ran full-force toward the man that I loved, only to collapse in his arms, dead.

From a broken heart.

"Very good, Emmalynne!" Miss Diane called out from her place at the front of the room. "You've truly tapped into the emotions of Giselle today. I'd still like to see more decisive footwork, though. Each step should have meaning, a purpose. Otherwise, good job."

Zhara helped me up from where I'd crumpled to the ground during Giselle's death scene—the one we'd be performing for our audition the following week—and we bit back smiles until we'd turned away from our ballet mistress.

It never boded well to be cocky around our teachers.

"Um, that was the equivalent of a standing O, coming from her," Zhara said quietly as we walked to the back to grab some water.

Today was an open session, meant to give us all some much-needed time to practice our audition pieces before the moment of truth. Most of us had been practicing on our own anyway, but having the extra time worked into our schedules always made things easier. Plus, we were all aware that we were being watched and critiqued now, even before the real auditions got underway. At a company like RBC, watchful eyes were always around, judging, evaluating, criticizing. You could never let your guard down, because if you did, it would cost you.

"I'm just glad she saw that pass, instead of the one from earlier," I breathed. "I was really feeling it that time."

Zhara nodded. "You put the 'hope' in 'hopeless' for sure," he said. "Keep that up and Giselle is yours."

I beamed, hoping he was right.

The truth was, I knew my dancing was up to snuff, but that didn't mean that someone else hadn't been practicing their asses off, as well. Someone like Scarlett. I took a moment to look around the room and watch my competition. A few girls were dancing the same scene I'd be trying out with, but I knew that their technical skills were levels below mine. The others who were taking on more dance-heavy sections couldn't seem to make it look as effortless as the part called for.

As I guzzled down some water, my eyes finally found Scarlett and Preston as they danced across the room. They were practicing a series of turns that ended in a lift, Preston's hands cradling the blonde gently over his head. I thought back to the time we'd partnered together in class and began to smile. The way he'd gripped my waist as I'd soared through the air—I'd been too caught up in dancer politics to really enjoy the moment for what it was. Exhilarating.

When class finally ended, we packed up our stuff to leave. Zhara had errands to run and I had stuff to take care of at home, so we said our goodbyes at the studio doors and I began my walk back to the apartments by myself.

As my flip-flops made click-clacking sounds on the pavement, I checked my phone for messages. Agent Walker hadn't contacted me since our last conversation. The one where I'd fessed up to seeing Kyle.

I checked my phone and when I saw his name on my missed calls list, I grinned.

Guess the agent didn't hold grudges.