From the author of Passion's Insanity and Time Waits for No ONe comes a new tale of love, fame, and forbidden desire.
Based on the world built in Passion's Insanity, The Truth of Lust takes a deeper dive into the shadowed past and fiery present of M...
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June 28th, 1981
Learn to love practice and you'll learn to be excellent.
The stage was a cavernous expanse, its vastness filled with the echoes of pounding beats and synchronized movements. Overhead lights cast a stark, almost clinical glow on the polished stage floor, creating sharp contrasts of light and shadow. The air was thick with the rhythm of the music, blending with the creaks of the wooden stage and the occasional rustle of costumes. The scent of sweat and the faint aroma of stage makeup lingered, adding to the palpable intensity of the space.
Victoria sat in a folding chair stage right, her posture straight and her gaze unwavering as she watched her girl group move through their routine. Clad in sleek grey athletic wear, she exuded an aura of focus and determination, her eyes scanning every detail of the performance with a critical eye. Each move of her groupmates was scrutinized, every beat counted, every mistake noted.
The rehearsal had started early, long before the official call time. The stage was theirs for now, a sanctuary of hard work and relentless ambition, a chance to perfect their routine before the headliners arrived for a run-through of the show. The room was alive with the energy of their movements, the music blaring from the speakers filling the vast space.
The stage was a hive of focused energy, the dancers moving in unison, their bodies a fluid display of strength and grace. Their synchronized movements painted a picture of hard-earned discipline, but Victoria's sharp eye caught every flaw, every misstep. Each error was a crack in the veneer of perfection she demanded. She clapped her hands loudly, the sound slicing through the music.
"You know there's no way y'all can go on stage movin' like that, right?"
Dayna, a younger woman with a weary expression, stopped mid-movement, her breath coming in short gasps. Her curly hair was damp with sweat, and frustration flickered in her eyes. "Girl, I'm hungry, I can't do it full out right now."
Victoria's eyes narrowed, her voice unyielding, clapping her hands together to emphasize her words. "That don't matter. Don't matter if you hungry or tired or don't feel like it, you gotta do it full out every time. The Jacksons didn't hire us for us to look like we don't mean it every single time."
The room fell silent except for the heavy breathing of the dancers. Victoria's words hung in the air, a stern reminder of the high standards they were expected to meet. She knew the stakes, knew that their performance had to be flawless. The Jacksons were legendary, and performing with them was both an honor and a test of their abilities. She couldn't afford to let their hard work be overshadowed by anything less than well-prepared perfection.
Dayna shot back, still catching her breath. "Maybe if you didn't rehearse us before rehearsal when I'm supposed to be eating, I would have 'like I mean it' energy, Vicki."
