Page 136 of Meet Me at the Metro

A metronome echoes through the dance studio as a large group of female performers return to the starting marks of their dance sequence. As my eyes roam over the group’s black leotards and fishnet stockings, nearly identical to the set I’m wearing, I wonder which one will be talented enough to snag the role of Velma Kelly.

Chicago the Musicalis a demanding production that requires not only vocal versatility from its leads but also requires its performers to master its complex choreography.

Landing a role in this musical meant standing out.

Will I be talented enough to stand out?

“I didn’t know so many would make it to callbacks,” I mutter.

Harvey gives my shoulder a friendly nudge. “Get out of your head. You’re just as deserving of the role you’re going for as everyone else here.”

He gives me a warm smile that promises sincerity, and my haywire thoughts settle a little.

Just a little.

“We’ve practiced your song and dance routine a thousand times. You can do this. All about confidence, remember?”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Always.”

We watch the ladies in front of us run through the jazz dance routine several more times, and I notice how the show and casting directors inspect the performers, watching wide-eyed for mistakes or missteps. I also recognize the few individuals their gazes keep returning to who have flawlessly memorized the sequence and are now adding their distinct flares to the moves. The directors scribble notes about those lucky few.

The more I watch, the more complex the maze of insecurity in my mind grows. I force my attention back to Harvey and distract myself with another conversation before I have an opportunity to get lost in it.

“I’m trying to convince Theo to join the orchestra.”

Harvey lifts a brow. “For the show? Is he considering it?”

“Barely.”

“Sounds about right,” he chuckles. “Nothing a little sweet talking can’t fix. Especially if it’s coming from you.”

“I’ve been sweet-talking the man, and it ain’t working. It’s Connor. Theo doesn’t like the idea of being around him.”

“I thought that dinner would reconcile some things between them. Was their fight reallythatbad?”

“It was pretty bad,” I wince, recalling how their argument nearly turned physical.

“The two of them will make up,” Harvey assures me. “If you have anything to do with it, at least.”

“I feel like I’ve made things between them worse. Like I’ve given them more reason not to like each other.”

“I don’t think so. I think you were just the push those two needed to quit being knobs to each other. Give it time. You’ll see.”

“I’m trusting you on this one,” I say, not the slightest bit convinced.

“Wise woman,” he commends, smirking.

The double doors at the other side of the dance studio quietly swing open, and Connor discretely slips through them. His eyes find mine within seconds, and I quietly motion him to join Harvey and me.

Connor plops down onto the wooden floor beside me, giving Harvey a friendly nod before he asks me, “Have you gone up yet?”

“No. My group’s up next.” I try to keep my prickling nerves at bay as the ladies ahead of me end their dance sequence.

Connor whispers, “You got Roxie in the bag. Stop worrying, alright?”

Harvey says, “I’ve told her the same thing. If only she’d listen as well as she worries.”

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