Chapter 223 - 223: Dance On (pt.6)

As the contemporary auditions continued, it became clear that the trainees, or at least those who had auditioned for the section, meant business.

The second group alone was packed with superstars in their own right.

The two German menaces and b-boy monsters, Nikola and Mikko.

The rest of the Kweens, Pink, Aqua, and Jeremiah, showing everyone that they weren't about to be left behind. It's just that contemporary was really more of Kitty and Javi's wheelhouse.

And then there's August.

Whose talent is apparently a bottomless pit.

No one really knows the limits of this adorable ray of sunshine. He may be cute, but he is deadly talented, sometimes without even realizing it himself.

The six took their positions.

The other five wore game faces.

August?

August was just beaming excitedly.

He was literally a living ball of sunshine and an Energizer Bunny all rolled into one.

It might be the ADHD.

Who knows?

What's important is that August was happy.

And stayed that way.

"Alright, everyone! Ready?"

The six nodded.

"And cue music!"

As the music filled the studio, the six started dancing.

Unlike the technical mastery the first group had displayed, this second group let their individuality shine.

They gave the dance their own flavor.

Their own flair.

Their own stamp.

These trainees knew they couldn't necessarily beat the first group when it came to pure technical skill.

But what they could bring, something contemporary welcomed with open arms, was heart.

They let their hearts and their art shine.

And the other trainees felt it.

The moment the six began moving across the stage, cheers started erupting throughout the studio.

But more than that, something else was happening.

The trainees were learning in real time that there was so much more to contemporary than technique.

Yes, they might not have the prettiest leg lines that stretched impossibly high into the air.

They might not have the most flexible bodies.

They might not have the cleanest extensions or the most polished technical vocabulary.

But what they could offer was themselves.

Their hearts.

Their stories.

Their artistry.

Their individuality.

And that's what makes contemporary so special.

Personally, as a dancer myself...

Yes.

Before you start making that Pikachu face, this dear author of yours is, in fact, a dancer and choreographer among other things.

I contain multitudes.

Anyway!

That's what made me fall in love with contemporary.

The freedom.

The ability to take everything inside of you and pour it into movement.

It gives a dancer wings.

You don't simply execute choreography.

You feel it.

You fly.

And watching these six reminded the other trainees of exactly that.

"Wow..." Seven murmured, staring at the stage. "Didn't know we can do it that way too."

"Well, if we gotta do it, then better dance it the way that feels right," Kayden said with a smile of realization.

"ですね."

Benimaru said it quietly, his eyes still fixed on the stage, deep in contemplation.

Liam, on the other hand, started bouncing in place.

Suddenly, he couldn't stay still.

He shook his hands.

Rolled his neck.

Rotated his shoulders.

Circled his ankles.

Stretched his arms and legs.

Liam felt it.

That overwhelming urge to have his turn.

It was like the six people onstage had released some kind of contagious energy into the room.

Everyone suddenly wanted to dance.

Everyone wanted to have their turn.

Everyone wanted to show what they could do.

Louie, meanwhile, had his hands resting on his hips, his eyes laser-focused on the stage.

He wasn't simply watching.

He was studying.

Observing.

Absorbing.

He wanted to take everything in like a sponge so that when his turn came, he could show the best version of himself.

"August really is a monster, huh?" Mika said, a tone of pure marvel in his voice as he watched their maknae.

"That guy's always been a monster," Kang Ian said. "Genesis Project was literally just holding him back."

"Fuckers were so scared August would outshine everybody," Silas said with a grunt.

He shook his head.

"Just thinking back about it, that show's really fucked up, huh? How did we even survive that?"

Ahn Jae let out a deep sigh.

"How did we survive indeed..."

Because the horror.

The abuse.

The exploitation.

The things they had endured, all wrapped up in glitter, stage lights, pretty costumes, and the promise of a dream.

All for a chance at debuting.

Now that they were with Bread Music, they were slowly beginning to understand just how much they had been taken advantage of by producers and directors who cared more about ratings than the young people standing in front of their cameras.

Corporate people who cared about money.

Executives who cared about numbers.

People who saw them as content before they ever saw them as kids.

They had been pushed, squeezed, and wrung dry for entertainment.

And yet...

Here was August.

Soaring across the stage with the biggest smile on his face.

A smile so infectious that simply looking at him made people want to smile too.

Maybe that was why seeing him dance felt so powerful.

He wasn't dancing like someone trying to prove that Genesis Project had been wrong about him.

He wasn't dancing with bitterness.

He wasn't trying to show everyone what they had missed.

He was simply...

Happy.

Happy to dance.

Happy to perform.

Happy to be there.

And somehow, that made it even more beautiful.

By the end of the dance, the studio erupted into thunderous applause and cheers.

"I just have to say..."

Tuesday stood up dramatically.

"Y'ALL DID YA THANG!"

The trainees laughed.

"Like, I felt y'all. I really did!"

She turned toward August.

"Augie, baby!"

August was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling, but that smile never left his face.

"You are a STAR!"

"Thank you! Hehehe!"

August bowed gratefully.

And that little giggle of his was the cherry on top.

"Let's go, Augie!" Kang Ian cheered.

"That's right, kiddo!" Silas shouted.

"You are literally a ball of sunshine up there," Tuesday continued, her voice suddenly filled with genuine sincerity. "And watching you? I feel like something in me healed, for real!"

"Mmmmmhm! Amen to that!" Dora agreed passionately.

"And my Kweens!"

Tuesday turned toward Pink, Aqua, and Jeremiah.

"Y'all slayed out there! Y'all ATE!"

She pointed dramatically at them.

"ATE! PERIOD!"

The Kweens immediately curtsied in unison.

Then all three started finger-clapping.

As one does.

"And then we have the German duo!"

Tuesday turned toward Nikola and Mikko.

"B-boy extraordinaire, Nikola and Mikko! I have to say, y'all both surprised me."

She tilted her head.

"Because you both danced with this certain grit of street dance. I don't know if I'm explaining it right. It wasn't elegant in the traditional sense. It was sharp. Powerful. Grounded."

She nodded approvingly.

"I liked it very much!"

"Thank you!" Nikola and Mikko said together, flashing those charming little smirks.

"Also, Mr. Mikko."

Tuesday pointed at him.

"Mr. Jack-of-all-trades. You sing great. You dance great. You rap great."

She threw her hands up.

"What can't you do?"

What came next?

Nobody expected.

Not in a million years.

"Point his feet, apparently."

Foca muttered while looking down at his booklet.

The sass.

The shade.

The casual, not-so-subtle jab.

Everyone's eyes widened.

Tuesday slowly turned toward him.

"Boo boo..."

She cupped a hand around her ear.

"Whatchu said?"

Foca didn't even look up.

"I said he can't point his feet to save his life."

The room exploded.

"MISTER FOCA!"

Foca finally looked at Mikko.

"Mikko, I have this gripe with you."

His voice was filled with the passionate frustration of a man who had discovered a personal betrayal.

"I was watching! And everything was truly amazing!"

He pointed toward the stage.

"But then I saw your flexed feet."

Foca's face twisted in genuine disappointment.

"And my disappointment was immeasurable."

He paused.

"My day was ruined."

The trainees were already struggling.

"You were doing so good, but you kept dancing the whole thing with your feet flexed!"

Foca gestured helplessly.

"It's like... a dead fish in a beautiful ocean!"

That was it.

The entire room was fighting for their lives.

And the irony?

They were literally losing their lives trying not to laugh.

People were turning red.

People were covering their mouths.

Someone looked like they were about three seconds away from seeing the pearly gates.

It was legitimate criticism.

It really was.

But the sheer level of emotional devastation Foca was experiencing over something as simple as flexed feet was fucking hilarious.

"I'm sorry, boss man!" Mikko said sincerely.

Unfortunately, the smirk on his face wasn't helping his case.

"I'll point them next time!"

"Yeah."

Foca nodded.

"You'll point them now."

Mikko's smile disappeared.

"Group two, all of you, do it from the top. And every time I see Mikko's feet flexed, you will all start from the very beginning."

The room went silent.

Every trainee suddenly looked terrified.

"Oof..."

"Holy shit. I'm glad I'm not part of that group."

"RIP."

A few trainees eloquently expressed their thoughts.

"Do it again? 왜요?"

August looked genuinely confused.

He loved dancing.

He really did.

But he was tired.

And he wanted to sit down.

So being told they had to do the entire thing again was a devastating development.

"Blame Mikko for not pointing his feet," Foca said.

He sounded incredibly petty.

And like a man on a mission.

A mission to instill the fear of unpointed feet into Mikko's very soul.

"Ahhh! Mikko hyung! Why didn't you point your feet?! Argh! 진짜?!"

August puffed out his cheeks like a very wronged child.

"You cute..."

Mikko slowly looked toward Pink.

"...but you dead."

Mikko visibly shivered.

Because what was scarier than a gay Black drag queen giving you a sassy, pouty look?

Well...

Aqua actually speaking in Thai.

"ตายแน่ มึง!"

Aqua was ready to throw hands.

And honestly?

Valid.

The bitch was tired.

They were all tired.

And now they were being forced to repeat an incredibly demanding routine, not just physically but emotionally.

At this point, friendship was out the window.

They didn't know Mikko.

Never heard of him.

Jeremiah simply stood there with his hands on his hips, glaring at Mikko.

And somehow, that was even scarier than regular Jeremiah.

Regular Jeremiah would snap at you when he was annoyed and probably have absolutely no filter.

But ultra-pissed, exhausted Jeremiah?

He didn't need words.

He could kill you with a look.

"Ahhh, fuck, dude! Why weren't you pointing your feet?!" Nikola groaned.

"What?! I thought you were on my side!" Mikko protested.

He immediately moved closer to Nikola, practically clinging to him like a koala on a tree.

"You done fucked up, dude. You're all on your own."

Nikola raised his hand.

"Sir Foca, sir! Let this fucker do it himself."

"YES!"

August raised both hands, nodding vigorously.

Mikko looked around at everyone.

The betrayal.

The abandonment.

The injustice.

His face said it all.

He looked like the most wronged man in human history.

That expression was finally what broke Foca.

Foca burst out laughing.

The rest of the evaluators followed.

"Fine! Fine!" Foca said between laughs. "Let's not make a big deal out of this."

The group stared at him.

"You all did a good job. You can go back and take your seats."

A collective sigh of relief escaped the six dancers.

"OoOoOoH, thank you, Jesus!"

Pink placed a hand over his chest, eyes closed dramatically as he, Aqua, and Jeremiah sashayed back toward their seats with the rest of the Kweens.

"Yay!"

August immediately ran back to his seat beside Ahn Jae.

"T-thank you!" Mikko said, genuinely grateful.

Foca smiled.

"Well, you better be practicing pointing those feet, because there won't be a next time."

His tone was warm.

But his eyes said he meant every damn word.

And so, the contemporary auditions continued.

Eventually, they came to an end, closing out the dance auditions on a surprisingly great note.

The trainees had shown technique.

They had shown individuality.

They had shown heart.

And some had even revealed talents they had kept hidden until now.

But the dancing was over.

Now came the part that everyone had been waiting for.

The part where the trainees could no longer control the outcome.

The part where the evaluators would decide who had earned those coveted spots.

Who would make the cut?

Who would get to dance in the final performance?

And who would be left watching from the sidelines?

That decision was no longer in the trainees' hands.

Now...

It was up to the evaluators.