The familiar nerves rush up my spine and give me the greatest of chills. Today was the day where I could see if dancing was really cut out for me. Or, if I'm just another number. I push the negativity out of my head. I'm auditioning to be on "so you think you can dance", and for me being fifteen, I'm probably the youngest one there. Every three minutes, I hear either cries of joy, or utter silence. I stare down at the loosely pinned number twenty-three on my dance bra.
"Number 22," I hear a robotic voice announce.
Only one more.
My audition piece runs through my head, the leaps, turn sequences, and most importantly, the emotion. The music suddenly stops, and I hear their feedback. From my guesses, number 22 made the cut.
"Number 23." I inhale deeply, ready to take the stage. I keep my posture as I walk confidently across the stage.
"Your name," one of the judges asks.
"Were you by any chance on the show 'Dance Moms'?"
"Okay, get ready," the judge replies as she cues to the person in the balcony.
This is it.
I hear the soft beginning of the music, swift and elegant. I breathe in the music, letting it work its way up my spine and into my movements. I knew that this was probably the best dancing that I've done in a long time. I strike my ending pose, confident that I'd done my absolute best. Now, I just hope the judges agree with me.