Pointes of Me – Sneak Peek!
On January 7th, Cherish Amore returns with a new release and she has a special sneak peek for you to read below.
With her pink and black duffel bag tossed over her shoulder, Malaysia shuffled her way inside the theater, where she would be auditioning for an upcoming show. Malaysia hated having to audition. She felt like the girls she was up against were no competition. For many year and many shows, she was the prima ballerina. Since she was about two, Malaysia danced. Over the years, her talent had been taken to another level. Recently, she’d moved to Germany to further her career. When she first moved to the area a few months ago, everyone looked at the skinny, short, black woman with red hair as if she were a disease. Once the music played and Malaysia dominated the stage, she gained all the respect she deserved. While she hated being prejudged, Malaysia loved the look of shock when she showed them what she was about.
Stepping into the open dressing area, Malaysia was greeted by some familiar faces that were eager to talk to her. Though she spoke, Malaysia kept it short. Her mind was on the audition—nothing more and surely nothing less. Stepping out of her sneakers, Malaysia pulled her sweatpants down, exposing her tights and ballet skirt. As she was pulling her shirt over her head, displaying her leotard, she was greeted by Alona. She was like a friend to Malaysia, not close, but they’d done a few shows together, so they talked. Malaysia wasn’t likeable by many, but Alona was an exception, probably because she was another American amid the foreigners.
“Hey, girl,” Alona spoke excitedly.
After adjusting the straps to her pink pointe shoes, she stood. “Hey.” Her hey wasn’t nearly as friendly as Alona’s.
“Ready for the audition?”
With disgust, Malaysia scanned the room full of ballerinas and ballerinos anxious to get a spot in the Christmas show. Seeing the little to no competition, Malaysia faced Alona having to look up at her since she was taller. “Of course. I know Gabriel will automatically pick us. We both have done a show with him before. Not to mention, these girls ain’t no competition.” She scrunched her nose, looking at the little to no talent.
Alona chuckled. “I mean, you’re right about the no talent, but you ain’t heard?”
“Heard what?” Malaysia asked with a raised brow while she raked her curly ginger-colored hair into a bun.
“Gabriel’s not directing this show. It’s some guy named Dane from the States, and he does not play.”
“Dane? I’ve never heard of him.” She scrunched her nose, finishing off her bun before adjusting the tutu skirt on her small waist.
“Me either, but that’s whose show it is.” Alona shrugged.
“Alright, ladies, five minutes, and we’re going three at a time and then a solo run. Once everyone is complete, you’ll be called back center stage. Dane will then pick his dancers for the show along with the prima and principal dancer. Good luck,” the lady whose voice barely rose above a whisper said before she hurried away.
“Welp, this is it.” Alona smiled. “Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck, but thanks.” Malaysia came off cocky, and while she might have been a little, she was more confident than anything. Her confidence didn’t happen overnight. She had to work hard for where she was. Being black, super skinny, a redhead, and short didn’t exactly open doors easily. Growing up, Malaysia heard you’re too skinny, not tall enough, your natural hair won’t work, and you’re too black for us in so many words. Each time she auditioned, she had to work ten times more than the other girls, but she was sure to leave a lasting impression each time. Eventually, people looked forward to Malaysia auditioning, and recently, they had given her the spot without showing her face. She’d been that damn good. This was only Malaysia’s third show in Germany, but she’d already had a name for herself. She was confident today would be a piece of cake.
“Yeah, well, I need it these white girls have two up on us. They speak German, and we’re in their country.” Alona rolled her eyes, walking away.
Malaysia stretched, looking from the many blonde girls to the next. She did have two strikes against her, but the one advantage she had was she really could dance her ass off.
After about thirty minutes, Malaysia stood. Her chest rising and falling quickly from the group dance she’d just done. She knew she dominated it. When she and the other three ladies stepped on to the stage, she expected to see the Dane she had just heard about. Instead, she saw three women. “Number seven, you’re last,” she heard, which was baffling to her because it was about sixty people auditioning. How was it possible that her being number seven would make her last? Barely acknowledging her being told she was last place. she would patiently wait until her number was called and do her thing as usual.
Many girls came and went. It was different. They’d walk out the room with a smile and come back in tears. Malaysia even noticed the uneasiness and quietness from Alona once she returned from her solo dance. “What hap—” Malaysia started.
“Seven!” she heard much louder than needed for the small area. Stepping lightly, Malaysia headed toward the lady that called her, having to double time her steps as the lady had turned and was already walking away. “Get on stage, state your name, and what you’re dancing to. You cannot go over seven minutes in total,” she uttered in a rude tone before turning away.
No congratulations or anything? Malaysia thought, looking over her shoulder before padding her way onto the huge stage.
Reaching the middle of the stage, Malaysia was stuck. She read the name on the card as Dane, but what shocked her was he was a black man, a fine one at that. Dane was sitting but looked to be well over six feet. His dark-brown skin was blemish free. Hs perfect-shaped head was full of waves. Dane’s face was beautiful with perfect cheekbones and a chiseled chin that a perfectly sculpted goatee covered. The auditorium wasn’t lit the best, but Dane’s fine ass could be seen in the dark.
“You stating your name?”
“Holy fuck,” Malaysia whispered. His deep voice sent a shockwave straight to her kitty, and the seat of her leotard was greeted with her essence. “Malaysia McDowell, and I will be dancing to Andra Day’s ‘Rise Up’.” Malaysia knew even her song choice was risky song since most girls auditioned to songs like music from Swan Lake, Romeo, and Juliet, or even The Sleeping Beauty. Malaysia dancing to the types of songs she chose also helped her stand out.
Dane barely looked up from his phone. “A’ight. Do your thing.” Malaysia picked up quickly that not only was Dane black, but he seemed smooth, and his voice didn’t hold a German accent, which meant he was probably from America.
Are you even paying attention? she thought, but instead of saying it, Malaysia backed up a bit, getting into bras en couronne, also known as fifth position, patiently waiting for the music to begin. Closing her eyes, Malaysia prepared to become one with the music as she always did, which gave her the best outcome. Once the music started, Dane being in his phone or not no longer mattered. She was in her zone.