Backstage, in my mind I admit that the other contestants received more applause than we did, which means their fan bases are larger than ours. Even though the woman who announced us is now giving a speech, saying this is a showcase and not a competition, I worry that Tiffany will not get the golden trophy, which would kill my chance to write Nikki letters.
We are scheduled to perform last, and as the other girls do their numbers, the applause ranges from mild to enthusiastic, which surprises me, because during the preshow rehearsal, I thought all the routines were excellent.
But right before we are set to dance, when little Chelsea Chen concludes her ballet number, the applause is thunderous.
“What did she do out there to get such good applause?” I ask Tiffany.
“Don’t talk to me before the performance,” she says, and I start to feel very nervous.
The woman in charge of the recital announces our names, and the applause is a little livelier than what we received before the competition. Right before I lie down at the back of the stage, I look to see if maybe Jake or Cliff showed up late, but all I see when I look out into the audience is the hot white from the spotlights that are on me. Before I have a chance to think, the music starts.
Piano notes—slow and sad.
I begin my incredibly drawn-out crawl to center stage, using only my arms.
The male voice sings, “Turn around …”
Bonnie Tyler answers, “Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming round.”
At this point Tiffany runs onto the stage and leaps over me like a gazelle or some other animal that is beautifully nimble. As the two voices continue to exchange verses, Tiffany does her thing: running, jumping, tumbling, spinning, sliding—modern dance.
When the drums kick in, I stand and make a huge circle with my arms so people will know that I am the sun and I have risen. Tiffany’s movements also become more fervent. When Bonnie Tyler builds up to the chorus, singing, “Together we can take it to the end of the line; your love is like a shadow on me all of the time,” we go into the first lift. “I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark.” I have Tiffany up over my head; I am steady as a rock; I am performing flawlessly. “We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks.” I begin to rotate Tiffany as she lifts her legs out into a split and Bonnie Tyler sings, “I really need you tonight! Forever’s gonna start tonight! Forever’s gonna start tonight.” We make a 360-degree rotation, and when Bonnie Tyler sings, “Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I’m only falling apart,” Tiffany rolls forward down into my arms and I lower her to the floor as if she were dead—and I, as the sun, mourn her. “Nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart.”
When the music builds again, she explodes upward and begins to fly all around the stage so beautifully.
As the song continues, I again make huge, slow circles with my arms, representing the sun as best I can. I know the routine so well, I can think about other things while I am performing, so I begin to think that I am actually nailing this performance pretty easily and it is a shame my family and friends are not here to see me dancing so excellently. Even though we will most likely not win the audience’s loudest applause—especially after Chelsea Chen obviously brought every single one of her family members to the performance—I begin to think we will win anyway. Tiffany is really good, and as she flies by me so many times, I begin to admire her in a way I had not previously. She has kicked her game up a notch for the competition and is now showing a part of herself I had not previously seen. If she was crying with her body for the last month or so, whenever we practiced in her studio, she is weeping uncontrollably with her body tonight, and you would have to be a stone not to feel what she is offering the audience.
But then Bonnie Tyler is singing, “Together we can make it to the end of the line,” which means it is time for the second lift—the hardest one—so I lower myself into a squatting position and place the backs of my hands on my shoulders. As the song builds, Tiffany stands on my palms, and when Bonnie Tyler sings, “I really need you tonight,” Tiffany bends her knees, so I engage my leg muscles and push upward as fast as I can, extending my arms, elevating my palms. Tiffany shoots high up into the air, does a full flip, falls into my arms, and as the chorus dies down, we gaze into each other’s eyes. “Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I’m only falling apart. Nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart.” She falls from my arms, as if dead, and I—being the sun—set, which means I lie back on the floor and use only my arms to slowly push myself backward and out of the spotlight, which takes almost a full minute.
The music fades.
Silence.
For a second I worry that no one will clap.
But then the house explodes with applause.