Find all the parts of this story here.
Chapter 2: Let’s Dance
Part 2: Sophie
Right on time, a knock sounded on the warehouse’s back door.
“Come on in!” Sophie called out. She turned to see Gray and Amy Shachar arriving. Sophie had connected with the unexpected husband and wife duo at Mt. Olive, of all places, and they had all quickly bonded over their love of dance.
Gray was build like a linebacker, all big muscles and tough-guy persona. Amy stood a full foot shorter than Gray, and had a very huggable curvy figure. Her bubbly personality matched. Amy was everyone’s friend. Gray didn’t talk much. How they ever managed to find each other and fall in love was anybody’s guess, but it was plain as the nose on Sophie’s face that they were devoted to each other, heart and soul. She was aware enough to admit that someday, she’d like a relationship like that, too.
Amy greeted her with her usual bouncy hug and proliferation of words.
“Hi, D! So good to see you. How was your week? Did you get to do the ride-along your boss mentioned?” She paused half a second for Sophie to nod before plowing onward. “Ooh, I bet that was so fun! Who’d they pair you with? Was he cute?”
Could the floor open up and swallow Sophie right now, please? No?
“Hi, Amy. It’s good to see you, too. And hi, Gray.” Gray spared her a smile and nod, but said nothing. He was changing out of his motorcycle boots and into shoes better suited to dance.
“I’m so excited for this round! We took too long of a break. What song are we doing this time?” Amy’s words bounded out of her mouth like an over-eager jackrabbit.
Before Sophie could get in a word edgewise, more people spilled through the open door.
“D! It’s been a minute. Glad we’re going again,” Lee Hood greeted her enthusiastically. The Asian man was at least 15 years older and only came up to Sophie’s chin, same as Amy, but he was slender and shockingly flexible. She wondered if he had been a gymnast at one point, but she purposefully didn’t ask a lot of questions. They came to dance, not be interrogated, even if a big corner of her heart yearned to be actual friends with some of them.
“Hi, Lee. Thanks for coming,” Sophie accepted his handshake, then turned a slightly wary gaze to the stranger behind Lee.
Newcomers are always welcome, she had to remind herself.
“Hello,” she extended a hand to the shy-looking woman behind Lee. Sophie took in a halo of golden ringlets surrounding big brown eyes, legs a mile long like a ballerina. “My name is Sophie. You’ll also hear people call me D,” she introduced herself.
“The Dragoness, right?” the slender blond asked in a quiet, high voice. Sophie just nodded. She hadn’t chosen the moniker, but rather one of the other dancers (no one remembered exactly who anymore) had given it to her when they did the third Imagine Dragons song in a row. So she had a favorite band?
The name had grown into a thing of its own, however. Now the Facebook group she used to organize rehearsals was called The Dancing Dragoness, as if it were some fantasy pub in Neverland. For Christmas, Gray and Amy had gotten her a custom mask in black, burnt orange, and copper, with a dragon’s tail curling around her temple. She loved it, and loved them for their support. The name, she could give or take. She did enjoy how mysterious it made her feel, but hated too much attention.
“I’m Everett Barstow,” the sweet little voice spoke.
“I’m glad you came, Everett.” She tried to commit the woman’s name to memory. Everyone put in so much time and effort that she wanted to at least give them the respect of remembering who they were.
In short order, half a dozen other people filed in – Ryan, Paige, Jennifer, Oliver, Cori, and Brenda. She had opted for a shorter timeframe, which unfortunately left some of the less experienced dancers concerned about learning the routine in time. As much as she tried to reassure them, there was never any pressure to join. They would have three Friday night practices and then perform in a month.
11 dancers total. Her mind began spinning with options for adjusting the numbers. 13 had committed besides her, so she’d choreographed for 14, but it wasn’t unusual for some to back out. She’d message the missing three people later to see if they still wanted in.
“So, D, what’ve you got for us this time?” Lee rubbed his hands together gleefully. Ha! Lee, glee. Sophie mentally shook herself and resisted a smile.
“We’re going to do an abridged version of Big Dreams by The Score,” Sophie announced. Clapping and whooping sounded from some of the people, the ones who clearly knew and liked the song.
“I’ll let the song run through twice, then we’ll get into particulars. I’ve cut out one verse to keep the performance closer to two minutes.”
“Aww, man, but it’s such a goooood song!” Lee enthused. This time, Sophie didn’t cover her smile.
“I heartily agree, which is why I want to do part of it justice in the month we have instead of a halfway job with the whole song,” she explained.
“I suppose,” Lee said, scuffing the ground with his toe like a little kid.
“Ready?” Sophie moved on. A few nods and murmurs of agreement later, she pressed play.
At first, almost everyone gazed around the room, eyes not focused on the surroundings as they took in the song. By the second chorus, though, heads were nodding, feet were moving, hands were tapping out rhythm on thighs. Sophie felt at home with these people, because they all had something in common: music moved them. They didn’t just hear sound in their heads. They heard music with their arms and legs, felt it in their hearts and let it flow out their limbs. The music itself told a story that begged to be shared.
This song in particular demanded something dramatic – Big Dreams needed big movements, strong formations. In Sophie’s mind, when she closed her eyes and felt the music, it made her want to lift her arms and her face to the sky, which told her a lot about what direction to take her choreography.
She had planned the whole dance before tonight and rehearsed it at home from each dancer’s perspective. Even with that knowledge, nothing would beat finally seeing the group come together as a whole.
After the second time through, Sophie began giving directions to groups of dancers, walking them through their steps.
“Okay, I’ve marked starting positions in green.” She pointed out small pieces of green masking tape on the floor. “We’ll begin with two rows in a rough semicircle. Most of this routine will be in a sort of call-and-response fashion between the left and right sides. Basically, envision one side as the singer,” she paused and gestured to the people on her right,”and the other side as the dreams he chases.” Now she looked to those on her left and waited for them to nod.
“If at any point you feel so inclined, singing is definitely encouraged,” she added with a smile. Several of the dancers grinned back.
“Okay. The opening sentence is an 8-count. Singers,” she pointed right,”you’ll have to dash out first. By the end of the first 5 beats, I want you in this position.” She demonstrated a pose facing the other half of the semicircle, feet spread wide, one hand down at her side and the other stretched out as if reaching for the dancers opposite.
“Then dreams, you’ll have that five count to get in place and then use the 3-count of your words to call out, like this.” She turned around to match their position, facing the ‘singer’ side, cupping her hands around her mouth as if shouting, and leaned forward.
“Good?” She waited for confirmation in the form of everyone in position. Then, she worked through more of the song, 8-count by 8-count. Amy, the most experienced dancer besides Sophie, offered some suggestions for adjustments as they went along, as well.
It took half an hour before everyone had the first verse and chorus down. She was so happy with their progress and how well the small group worked together and with the music. They all took a water break, talking about the piece and the details of the performance time & location.
“Hey, D?” came Amy’s voice from the front of the warehouse, but it sounded strangely tight. Sophie walked up.
“Were you expecting company?”
Amy lifted a stubby little finger and pointed to a vehicle sitting out front. Sophie squinted in the dim lighting and was just able to make out the city’s police force logo on the side of the black car.
Her stomach dropped when a familiar blond man’s head appeared.