Megan Leigh was 20 years old. She had finished high school and dedicated most of her time to dancing at a nearby studio in Orlando. She had been dancing all of her life and instead of spending her days at a university, Megan took a job with the studio as a full time choreographer. It was a strong position and being located in Orlando held promise that she could audition as a back-up dancer or choreographer for a number of famous pop artists who were always in need of extras. But, so far Megan hadn't been placed with a steady group. In fact, she had been so busy helping others succeed that she hadn't had the chance to progress as well. She was now beginning to feel trapped in her dancing and that was not something she had planned on experiencing.
She had always been very driven, especially when it came to dancing. She had been blessed by having a wonderful family who supported her in every decision that she made. Her parents had spent countless amounts of money on dance classes and summer dance workshops. From the time Megan was six to when she was seventeen, her mother had spent most of her time driving her daughter back and forth to dance classes and to auditions. Now she felt as if all those years of hard work and spent money were for nothing and were being poured down the drain.
She let out a sigh and shook her head. "Come on girl, you need to think of the positive things, not the negative" she said to herself.
She hadn't found her own little niche yet, but her resume was something that people were willing to give their eyeteeth for. She had been a back- up dancer for Janet Jackson in one of her videos, she had choreographed Dream's video "He Loves U Not," she had choreographed two dances for the Backstreet Boys' "Millennium" tour, she choreographed for one of Jessica Simpson's videos, and had even choreographed Jennifer Lopez's "Love Don't Cost A Thing" video.
She had even been asked to choreograph Britney Spears' VMA 2000 performance. When she heard Wade Robinson's idea, she backed out. Not because of fear but because she knew that Britney would've liked Wade's idea better. The choreography that she had come up with was more challenging and more difficult than his was, but her vision of Britney dancing up there onstage had been a little more... clothed. Clothes on Britney or not, Wade would've gotten the job hands down.
"Everything happens for a reason," she said quietly to herself, trying to assure herself that where she was right now and what she was doing was what was supposed to happen to her.
But... she wanted more. She wanted the drive, the hunger, the thirst, and the passion to go out there and create something so spectacular that people would jump to their feet instantly, applaud until their hands' hurt, cheer like crazy, and yell, "Encore! Encore!"
She didn't just want it...
She needed it.
The honk of a horn from a car interrupted her thoughts.
Megan reached down and pulled her bag into her lap. She unzipped it and pulled out a manila folder. As she flipped the cover back, a few sheets of paper fluttered to the floor. She watched them fall and when the last one hit the carpet, she reached down to pick them up.
Her chestnut colored eyes scanned the heading of the first page. The Florida State University seal was noticeable in the upper portion of the paper. Clipped to it was a brightly colored brochure reading: WELCOME TO FSU.
Megan had been taking a few college courses with a tutor several times a week but had not yet enrolled as a full-time student. Of course, she had also planned to be with a steady group by now.
Obviously that hadn't happened. She chided herself silently. She let out an exasperated sigh as she finished collecting the rest of the fallen applications.
She shoved them back into the folder and zipped up her large black Capezio bag. I'll do this later. If by some miracle I can get signed with a tour by the end of the week... I won't do it at all. She almost smiled at the thought, but she knew the complications of tour arrangements, and a week was nearly impossible, even for her hardworking agent, Mr. Grier. She kicked her shoes off and pulled her bag up onto her shoulder. She walked down the hall and opened the door to her "mini-studio."
She had transformed one of the two bedrooms in her apartment into a small dance studio type room. It was a great place where she could practice her dancing. The walls were lined with large full-length mirrors and the floor was refinished in hard wood rather than carpeting.
A huge 7-CD Changer stereo and subwoofer speakers contributed to the room providing maximum sound. Her huge display of CD's were stationed near the studio, completing the room.
Megan crossed the freshly polished floor and pressed the play button on the CD player. The first few notes of *NSYNC's "Tearin' Up My Heart" emerged from the speakers. Megan recognized the melody instantly and began dancing without a second thought. The familiar choreography seemed to move even more fluently than before. She was about midway through the routine when she recognized that the part coming up was something that she was having a bit of difficulty with.
In her last run through, she noticed that her hesitation had thrown off her movement. She also wasn't starting on the correct foot so that she could complete the complicated steps. She decided to go for it with no hesitation and by starting with her left foot rather than her right.
It seemed to work and the steps were nearly flawless. Her fluid movements began to slow as the song drew near the end. She completed her routine and by the time that the last few notes had faded out completely, she realized that her breathing had increased and that her forehead was slightly damp with perspiration.
She wiped her forehead with her small white towel and reflected back on the song she had just danced to. These guys had incredible harmony, no matter how upbeat the song was. And listening to it almost seemed to calm her otherwise hectic lifestyle. In fact, she had just read somewhere that *NSYNC's third album was due sometime in the Spring of 2000.
She ejected the CD from the stereo, and opened the case. After pressing the CD into place she closed the case, and stared down at the five faces looking back at her. Too bad you guys don't need a choreographer.
She shook her head at the thought of them having her as a choreographer. She was practically a nobody compared to Darren Henson and Wade Robinson.
Even if they do need a choreographer, they sure as hell won't pick me.
She let out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling.
I'd give anything to be placed on a tour right now. She set the CD down and headed toward the door switching off the fluorescent lighting as she passed.
Chapter 2
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