Chapter 221 - 221: Dance On (pt.4)

As Yone headed back to his seat, cheers erupted from the other trainees, showering him with applause.

"Alright, everybody. Now the real auditions for the ballroom section begin," Luca said. "For real this time."

That earned a chuckle from everyone. Whether they found it genuinely funny or were laughing purely out of nervousness, they chuckled nonetheless.

"Bring in the first group!" Dora shouted.

And so, the ballroom section auditions continued, with Yone having already set the bar ridiculously high.

Which, to be fair, none of the evaluators actually expected the rest of the trainees to reach completely. They just needed to show that they could at least dance within the same general vicinity of the bar instead of staring at it from several miles away.

And, lo and behold, there were a few who stood out.

The thing was, a lot of these trainees did great. Amazing, even.

It's just that they had the unfortunate luck of not only being in the same audition as Yone, but also having to dance after him.

Because when you're dancing next to someone like Yone, suddenly your perfectly respectable ballroom technique starts looking like you were fighting for your life against an invisible mosquito.

Take Bobby, for example.

Ever since he had danced the quickstep with Yone during the first half of the LEAVEN Finale, you know, the "Even if it's just for a little bit" performance, Bobby had grown to genuinely love ballroom.

So, he had been training in it ever since.

And all that training had absolutely paid off.

"Bobby, I have to say, I'm really very pleased to see the fruits of your training," Foca said with a proud, warm smile. "Your technique was solid. You were grounded, but you still had that light feeling. You danced very maturely and with finesse. There were some parts that needed a little bit of work, but that can be improved in the future. Solid job today, Bobby."

"Thank you!" Bobby said with a bright smile, his British accent becoming noticeably thicker as overwhelming emotions bubbled inside him.

And it wasn't just Bobby who stood out.

There were quite a few.

But the one who really surprised everyone was June.

The guy who had only had an hour to actually learn all the dances.

The guy who, not even that long ago, had been complaining about how his hips were refusing to perform the movement his brain had already mapped out.

And here we are.

After an hour, June's hips had finally, barely, managed to sync with his mind and do what he wanted them to do.

Granted, he was nowhere near perfect.

But the fact that he was able to dance through the entire section after having only an hour to learn everything was more than impressive.

"June!" Dora called.

"Yes?"

June immediately felt like a child who had just been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

His heart began beating faster in anticipation.

"Sir, did I just hear this correctly?" Dora asked.

"You," Dora pointed directly at June.

"Did you really learn this dance in just an hour?"

"Ummm... Well, technically, it was around twenty minutes."

Dora gasped dramatically.

The other evaluators' eyebrows shot up.

"Sir, please explain!" Dora demanded. "Because how is that physically possible?!"

"I honestly just had a good teacher," June said. "Johnny really helped me a lot. He made all the dances so easy for me to learn. So, twenty minutes, because the other forty were for the other sections. This section was the hardest out of all of them, so that's why I took twenty minutes learning it. I had to make sure I was showing something that was at least within standard."

"EX. CUUUSE. ME?!"

Dora was shook to her core.

"First of all, y'all aren't gonna like what I'm about to say, but I don't care. It has to be said."

She pointed at June.

"First of all! This guy learned this section in just twenty minutes, while some of y'all have been learning it for a whole week. This guy had one hour to learn everything and he's still doing better than some of y'all. What's up with that?!"

The trainees shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Like, the amount of times I saw Sir Foca's eye twitch from seeing some of y'all dance up on that stage is honestly both sad and hilarious at the same time. I feel like Sir Foca genuinely didn't know whether to laugh or cry by the end of it."

Dora turned toward Foca.

"Sir Foca, take it away. I don't care if some of these boys cry. They need to hear the truth."

Spoken like a true-blue Black woman.

All sass, all confidence, and absolutely no intention of sugarcoating a damn thing.

Foca, suddenly being handed the spotlight, wasn't about to sugarcoat his words either.

Dora had already started it.

It would be a disservice not to end it with a bang.

"I have to agree with Dora here," Foca said with a sigh.

"I do not know what thoughts were going through your heads when you decided to audition for this section. But just because you auditioned does not mean you automatically have a higher chance of landing a spot in this ballroom section."

Foca slowly scanned the trainees.

Some immediately flinched when his eyes landed on them.

But try as they might to look away, they couldn't.

There was something about Foca's eyes when he was serious.

They demanded attention.

"We can just let Yone dance this whole section solo for all I care if you all don't show a performance that is up to standard," Foca said.

A few trainees swallowed nervously.

"June learned this dance in twenty minutes, while the rest of you had the chance to learn it for a week. Tell me, was it a skill issue?"

Silence.

"Because if not, then I don't know what other reason there could be."

Foca paused.

"And before you come after me, June's performance was far from perfect. But he had what a lot of you lacked."

His expression softened slightly.

"He danced with sincerity."

Hearing Foca say "skill issue" was surprising in itself.

Because everyone was reminded, all at once, that Foca was, in fact, only twenty-five years old.

Twenty-five.

And yet somehow, he was everyone's boss.

Imagine your boss looking you dead in the eyes and telling you that you have a skill issue.

Anyone would cry.

A lot of the trainees visibly flinched, while the other evaluators tried not to laugh out loud.

Because that was cold as fuck, as the kids put it these days.

And yes, I'm very much embracing my age. This author is old... 😑

Luca's shoulders were shaking uncontrollably.

Tuesday had hidden her face behind her booklet, her entire body hunched over as she desperately tried to contain herself.

Cat merely wore that elegant little smile of hers, but even she clearly found it funny.

Dora, on the other hand, was fucking hollering.

"HA! Y'ALL JUST GOT HIT WITH THE SKILL ISSUE!"

Foca, meanwhile, looked like a man who had just survived a natural disaster disguised as a dance audition.

"All of you genuinely tried. I know that, and I respect that!" Foca emphasized, knowing the trainees had done their best.

Well.

Maybe not all of them.

But you get the point.

"But the fact that I had to watch an entire group compete with each other to see who had the most horrendous, exaggerated hip movements..."

Foca closed his eyes for a moment.

He looked genuinely haunted.

"Some of you were literally stomping instead of having that grounded control with every step. I saw someone dance the entire section by leading with their heels instead of their toes. And someone had their face dance better than their body!"

He rubbed his forehead.

"I had to physically restrain myself from standing up and correcting every single mistake."

"You really made him suffer, guys!" Luca chimed in. "I've never seen him this stressed in a very long time."

"Shut up!"

Foca lightly swatted Luca, who immediately raised his hands in playful defense.

"Keep quiet and get me my emergency croissant."

There was a brief silence.

Then Tuesday's eyes widened.

"Y'all!"

She practically bounced in her seat.

"You guys made Foca actually pull out his emergency bread!"

She looked around at the trainees, delighted.

"Oh, y'all did a number on him."

Foca proceeded to unwrap the emergency croissant with the solemnity of a man accessing a survival ration after three days stranded in the wilderness.

"If you, by some miracle, get lucky enough to be picked to dance in this section, I expect you to be better by final rehearsals."

He took a bite.

"And if you're not?"

Another bite.

"You better get your bodies ready, because I will personally make sure you are all ready by shoot day."

And with that, the ballroom auditions ended.

With an ominous threat.

A man stuffing his face with an emergency croissant after delivering said threat.

A panel of evaluators trying not to laugh.

And a room full of trainees who were equal parts scared shitless and amused by watching Foca's usual warm, authority-filled demeanor crumble for a little while.

For all his composure, for all his intimidating presence, for all the times everyone looked at him like he had everything under control...

The Great Foca was also human.

And apparently, his one of his mortal weaknesses was watching people commit crimes against ballroom dance.

He bled.

He suffered.

And, most importantly, he apparently carried emergency pastry supplies.

And June?

Well.

From day one, a lot of the trainees had already had their reservations about June.

He had past experience in the industry. He had already been an idol. He knew things they were still learning.

Because of that, there had always been an invisible barrier between him and the other trainees.

Not necessarily one that June had built himself.

It was simply there.

A little wall of uncertainty.

A little distance.

A quiet, unspoken feeling of You're different from us.

Of course, there were a few who had managed to penetrate that barrier. A handful who weren't particularly bothered by the whole June is an ex-idol and already has experience thing.

But they could be counted.

And now?

That distance between June and the rest of the trainees had just gotten wider.

Because while some walked away impressed, others walked away with something far less pleasant settling in their chests.

Envy.

Frustration.

Insecurity.

Resentment.

Maybe even a little fear.

What kind?

Well...

That depended on who you asked.

****

PS:

Heya, guys! I'm back! 🥹

First of all, I'm sorry for suddenly going on a mini hiatus out of nowhere without saying a word.

I just needed to take a little break and let my creative juices recover. I wanted to make sure that the upcoming chapters leading into the finale are everything I want them to be. I didn't want to keep pumping out chapters just for the sake of updating when my heart wasn't fully in them.

So, yeah... a little rest was definitely needed. 😅

Anyhow, I'm incredibly thankful and appreciative of all of you for sticking with me and this story. You have no idea how much that means to me. Truly.

Thank you for your patience, your support, and for still being here when I finally crawled out of my little author cave.

Love you all, always!

- Author 😘