1927. Young women are thriving with their newfound independence and having fun.
Except that isn't the case for free spirited Brooke Dashwood. Being an heiress to a wealthy company run by her overbearing and temperamental father, she must live by th...
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Soon entering the nightclub, it was like I had basked upon a whole new way of living.
The place was hopping even for the afternoon hours with others enjoying their time. And to top it all off, the ambience was a delightful sight.
All over I could see many accents of blue, red, and gold as their color scheme, a grand open and polished hardwood floor ahead of me being crowded by a lot of young good looking women all races and sizes, and private dining booths on every side of the space—accompanied by a mini bar in the far corner toward the other exit door where a bartender was keeping up with good time in delivering drinks, and even some fun and vibrant music I had never heard before from the band behind them was blasting.
Wow, it sounded so amazing.
Although nothing shocked me more than to peer over toward the women who were now paying keen attention to Julian in front of their view. But this time he was talking to them all so casually.
"Alright ladies, I know I had to take a quick break—but I'm back. So let's focus here, have fun, and get these steps down right for tonight's show. Okay, from the top!" Julian reasoned, still sounding like he was happily in his element.
From the top? What did that even mean? Did he somehow neglect to tell me that he had an entourage who followed his directions just because he said so?
But yet, as I kept my gaze on their next move...they began to move. And I mean, move.
Once the music got louder and the women formed into a rockettes line, they began to do things I had never seen before in my life, but I did become extremely invested in how they were dancing so in sync and at a fast pace.
Their hands began to flap aimlessly in the air, their feet started to jump and skip up and down so loose, and the smile on their faces made it that more appealing to watch.
It seemed so impossible. So entranced. So daring.
And the best part about it all was that neither of them were dancing to the beat of their own drum. Every single girl was solely concentrating on Julian who was directing everything they were doing.
Now I really couldn't believe my eyes. He was such an Oliver Twist! He told me he liked dancing, but never showed me in action. Granted, there usually wasn't much time to show between his brief visits—but still.
"5, 6, 7, 8! Do it again! 5, 6, 7, 8! One more time! 5, 6, 7, 8! Great job, ladies!" He kept chanting with each step he and them took.
But before I knew it, they had stopped and slightly cheered for themselves while the music calmed down and became slightly quiet again to the rest of the guests—cuing that they were finished for now.
I quickly began to clap loudly too, becoming more fascinated by it all with each passing second. Although I could already tell from the odd looks I was now getting from onlookers who surprisingly weren't just as astonished as I was, maybe I wasn't supposed to.
