Page 133 of Damaged Protector

“Fantastic. I think you’re ready.”

“I’m so nervous,” she said, fiddling with the hem of her pink sports bra as she blinked at me, her eyes screaming, I need reassurance.

I made it my mission to give that to my girls. Always.

“You are going to kill this audition, Lyric. And you know I would never blow smoke up your dance skirt. I mean it.”

That made her laugh. “Thanks, Ms. Mallori.”

“Just don’t look at your mother while you’re dancing. She makes you nervous.”

“Okay, I won’t. It’s hard though because she’s constantly trying to get my attention and give me all these hand signals she’s made up.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I said, handing her the black dance bag and leading her toward the exit. She stalled a little before I opened the door, and I asked, “Is there something else?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her blue eyes darting to the floor before rising to meet mine. “Do you think… I mean… are you busy on Saturday?”

My heart warmed. “You want me to come to your audition?”

Lyric swallowed hard, and she nodded. “If you can. Or if you even want to. But don’t tell my mom I asked you.”

“I would love to come,” I told her, meaning every word. “Now, let’s go set Mother Jones straight.” She looked relieved, and we went out the door and down the path Hawk and I had laid weeks ago.

Gabrielle Jones was out of her car the moment she saw us. She was a stage mom through and through, which wasn’t always a bad thing. Most were supportive and only wanted the best for their kids, but a lot were way too overzealous. Gabrielle was one of those, much like my own mother.

Luckily, I had the experience now to deal with these kinds of women. When I started this business, my second most important goal was to help my students become better dancers. My number one goal was to be an advocate for them.

“Gabrielle, so lovely to see you,” I said, playing my part. “Lyric is beyond ready for this audition. I’m so excited about it, I’ve decided to come.”

“Oh,” she said, seeming taken aback. “Well, that’s very nice of you, Mallori.”

I leaned forward like I was imparting some secret, very important knowledge. “Most auditions don’t allow parents backstage before the dancer goes on, but they will allow teachers back there.” I reached out and grasped the mother’s hand. “That way I can give her the pep talk I know you wish you could give her just before she goes on.”

“Oh, yes. That would be wonderful. I’ll make you some notes of things she needs to remember.”

And I’ll throw them directly in the trash as soon as you turn your back.

“Excellent!” I gushed, letting go of her hand. “Now, I put a list of tips for a successful audition in Lyric’s bag. You can go over them, but I’d like to point out the most important ones.”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes rapt on mine.

“The night before the audition, she needs to practice no more than one hour.” When Gabrielle sputtered, I held up my hand. “Trust me on this. I’ve been to over fifty auditions, and I know the body and mindset of a dancer. The last thing Lyric needs is muscle fatigue on the day of the audition. She knows the material backward and forward, so there’s no need to tire herself out. A fresh dancer is a successful dancer.”

I totally made up that last line on the fly, but I thought it was pretty damn good.

Her lips tightened, but she nodded. “Okay, I can see your point. What else?”

“This one is vital, Gabrielle. The most important thing during this audition is eye contact with the judges. It’s the mark of a well-trained dancer. So I always ask family members to sit further back in the auditorium and not directly behind the judges.”

“But… but she needs to be able to find me. I’m her mother.” Her voice was a near whine, and I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.

“Lyric knows you’re her number one supporter,” I told her. “That’s why I need you to stay out of her direct line of sight. If her eyes flit to you every few seconds, it makes her appear less confident. I guarantee you, that will lose her the role quicker than anything.”

“Ohhh, I never thought of it like that,” she mused, chewing on her bottom lip. “It makes sense, I guess.”

“You are so important to your daughter,” I said, laying it on thicker than jelly on toast. “We don’t need her focusing on you and using you as a crutch. That might have been okay when she was five, but Lyric is at a higher level now, and this comes with the territory. I mean, if you want her to be an elite dancer.” I let that last part hang in the air, almost like a question.

“Elite dancer? Yes, that’s exactly what we want,” Gabrielle said, nodding her head vigorously. “I’ll make sure to look over the rest of your rules and follow them to the letter.”

---