I leapt through the air, my body shouting the aggression that was sealed inside. Movements proud and strong.
Then the music changed abruptly and Public Enemy’s ‘Rebel Without a Pause’ blasted out. My whole body shifted. From tall and proud, I got low down and earthy, limbs loose and flowing, masculine and raw, unpolished. Smooth transitions were edged with hard finishes, taut arms and angry eyes. Then I threw myself into a handless cartwheel, landing with soft knees and a ton of attitude, finishing with a helicopter spin on my back, ignoring the bite of the wooden floor on my bare skin, then leaping to my feet, almost glaring at Elaine.
The music died away and I stood panting on the stage, sweat pouring down my chest.
Yveta cheered from the wings and I turned my head to grin at her.
Against her will, Elaine was impressed. She jerked her head in a quick nod.
“You can dance.”
Elaine led me to the rest of the cast, and I could see right away that there was a clear separation between the girls who were Las Vegas regulars and the people like me who’d been brought in recently. Elaine would have her work cut out turning us into a team.
We were opening in the refurbished theater in four weeks—not an overly long rehearsal period for a two-hour show. There were also singers, a magician and a cool guy who juggled stuff, but still, the core of it was the Vegas showgirls.
Elaine introduced me to the other male dancer, an older guy whose eyes narrowed when he saw me.
“Gary, this is Ash. He’s also your new roommate.”
So this was the guy with all the posters. He definitely didn’t look happy to meet me, resting his hands on his hips and staring without speaking.
Elaine ignored his unfriendliness and told him to walk me through elements of the men’s role. There were only two of us, and it seemed we were just there to ‘present’ the girls, showing them off. Elaine mentioned that she was considering giving one of us a dance duet, which would be far more noticeable than boring chorus-line work. I guess it was too much to hope for a prestigious solo dance. Gary kept throwing me dirty looks, which I ignored. I was going to get that duet.
Rehearsals lasted late into the evening, and it was nearly 1AM local time when Elaine dismissed us, tired and sweaty. I followed Gary back to our room.
“So, you’re the new flavor of the month.”
I ignored Gary’s tone. Jealous dancers . . . I was used to that. It came with the territory. I’d even known one guy who’d sabotaged a competitor’s dance shoes. Shit happens.
“I’m just new.”
“Hmm, well, I have seniority, so don’t forget that, showboat.”
His comment pissed me off. “I don’t showboat.”
Gary sneered out a laugh.
“And I’m not a friend of Dorothy.”
It had been a few years since I’d spoken English, and I didn’t get the reference right away. But then I noticed the Judy Garland poster on Gary’s side of the room.
I could care less that Gary was gay, but I wasn’t going to put up with being accused of showing off.
“It was an audition,” I said flatly. “If I didn’t get in, I’d be sent . . . home.”
Gary’s frigid stance softened slightly.
“Where are you from? You speak really good English.”
“Koper in Slovenia. It’s about 100 km from Ljubljana.”
“I have no idea what you just said, sugar lips.”
Twenty-four hours ago, I would have been irritated by the nickname—now I didn’t give a shit. Perspective is everything.
“Slovenia. It was part of Yugoslavia until 1991.” I saw the blank look on Gary’s face. “In Europe.”
“Right. Do you have a King and Queen?”
I shook my head. “No, we’re a Republic.”
Gary looked disappointed. “No queens? Pity. So, where did you learn English? Or is that what you speak in . . . wherever it is you come from?”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Nope, no queens. And we speak Slovene in Slovenia.”
“Whatever. I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep,” he said, without much interest.
I nodded. Sounded good to me.
I stared out of my bedroom window, trying to see the stars. But the only view was of concrete.
Ash
AS DAWN FILTERED through the window, I woke, having slept only a few hours, still tired and sluggish.
I stumbled to the bathroom, turning the shower to scalding hot. Some of the tension in my body eased as I enjoyed my first hot shower in two days.
I’d just finished and was staring into the steamed-up mirror, trying to decide whether or not to shave, when Gary breezed into the bathroom.
“Damn! You’re wearing a towel. Don’t give me that look, Mr. Hot-pants. There have got to be some perks to rooming with a prima donna.”
“Whatever you say, Toto.”
“Are you saying I’m a little bitch?”
I stared at him coldly, but was surprised when he grinned at me and winked.
Then Gary flapped his hands, shooing me out of the bathroom. “By the way, nice tat.”