Take This Dance. {Markiplier x Reader}

Chapter Three:

I walked onto the stage, holding my hands together in front of me. I turned around to face the judges.

"{F/N} {L/N}?" Said one of the judges.

"Yes," I responded back. The judges turned the page over into their notepads and wrote down something.

"Alright," said one of the judges looking up from their notepad, "We're ready whenever you are."

I closed my eyes and slowly, but steadily, got into my starting position. I tilted my head towards the ground and exhaled shakily. I sat there silently, waiting for the music to start playing.

Then, that's when I heard it.

Claire De Lune.

I began the song with a Arabesque, planting my right foot onto the ground and slowly extending my left leg off the floor and around the back of my body. Lowering my leg, I then began to balance on my ballet slippers, gently tapping them against the wooden floor. I gracefully extended my arms to my side, letting them linger through the air. I transitioned into second position, then quickly into fourth to attempt a Pirouette. My left leg turned inwards, causing my body to spin. I rested my foot onto my inner thigh, feeling the cold breeze from the spin against my nose and cheeks. I stopped the spin and slowly turned my head to the side, letting my eyes flutter open a couple times. I froze still for several seconds, then went from a Chassé to a Grand Jeté, first letting my feet chase one after the other of its position across the stage, then quickly allowing my legs to jump and perfect the splits. I stuck the landing then gently tapped to the sound of the music once more.

I closed my eyes again, ignoring everything around me. No outside distractions. No judges. Just me and the music.

I went back into a Pirouette, attempting to achieve it three times in a row, then quickly transitioned into fifth position and going into an Assemblé. I waved my arms gently, swaying in the right positions of the moves.

After that, I had forgotten what I was doing. I was buried deep into my mind. Darkness is all that I saw.

After a while of having my head in the clouds, I snapped out of it, then realizing that this was the ending part of my performance.

I had to perfect a Fouetté.

I extended my right foot, lifting my arms to match evenly with my torso. I dragged my right foot behind my left foot, quickly taking off into a spin. I looked at the world around me as I felt the breeze of the spin hit my face, causing bumps to appear on the nape of my neck.

When I went in to stop the Fouetté, I realized something was wrong. I felt my right foot bend more than it should. I fell backwards, landing on my right foot as I hit the ground. The sound of the thump echoed through the room. The music suddenly stopped playing. I landed on my back, processing what had just happened.

"Is she okay?" I heard one of the judges whisper. I felt my eyes burn. I rose up from the floor and pressed my hand gently onto my forehead. It felt like someone was pounding in my brain with a baseball bat.

"I-I'm sorry," I said, trying to stand up, "Just let me restart, it will not happen again-"

"No, there will be no need," said one of the judges, "We've seen all that you could accomplish. Thank you, {Y/N}, for auditioning."

I felt my expression change, suddenly.

"What?" I said softly to myself. The judges began to write in their notepads again.

"The exit to the stage is right over there," said one of the judges, pointing to the exit with their ink pen, "We'll let you know if you got accepted."

I nodded slightly and turned myself towards the exit. As I rushed out the door, I looked down at the ground. Warm tears began to stream down my face. Once I found my bag in the hallway, I plopped down beside it. I unzipped the bag and rummaged through the mess inside, looking for my extra pair of shoes. Once I found them, I angrily untied my ballet slippers through my blurry eyes. I slipped them off, then pushed in the extra shoes onto my feet. I let out a soft sob as I packed my ballet slippers into my bag. I stood up and slid on my black fuzzy jacket, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

I wiped one single tear that flowed down the edge of my cheek with my fingers, and pushed open the door to the exit.