And so, after three hours of much-needed rest, sustenance from the overflowing grease of fried chicken, and a little bit of polishing, it is now time for the dance auditions!
Dun dun duuuuuuuunnnnn....
No. Scratch that.
Cue the epic orchestral music with them big-ass war drums.
BA-DUM. BA-DUM. BA-DUM.
Yeahhh. That's more like the feel.
Am I setting the mood like a good little author that I am?
What? I'm ruining it by breaking the fourth wall?
Well, deal with it, suckeeeeerrrrr!
Ahhahahahahaha!
...That said, I do be ruining the mood, huh?
I digress...
Anyhow...
The trainees all filled the Square Colosseum stage studio, and the atmosphere was electric.
Some trainees were taking deep breaths.
Some were taking a quiet moment to reflect on life, their choices, and probably every decision that had led them to this exact moment.
Some were praying.
Some had their knees bouncing up and down so uncontrollably that they looked like they had accidentally been attached to one of those vibrating machines used in construction.
Yeah.
That one.
Some trainees apparently had an entire swarm of butterflies throwing a rave inside their stomachs, because they looked like they were about two seconds away from throwing up all that fried chicken they had just eaten straight into the nearest bin.
Which, honestly, would be an outright tragedy.
While some trainees looked like they'd seen better days, others looked like they were chilling AF.
Like this was just another Friday night.
Just casually getting ready to get hammered at the club.
Nothing to see here.
Some trainees were stretching, rolling their shoulders, loosening their legs, and generally trying to convince their bodies that they were, in fact, prepared for the torture that was about to commence.
And then there were those whose eyes were practically popping out of their heads, jaws hanging open as they watched Javi casually pull himself into a chest stand, both feet reaching all the way over his head and toward the ground.
The man had a spine made of liquid.
There was no other explanation.
Kitty and Jordan, meanwhile, were doing barre exercises.
And they weren't doing the kiddy stuff.
Oh no.
They were doing those royal ballet, hardcore exercises that looked innocent for approximately three seconds before turning into a full-blown war crime against the human body.
The kind of combinations that could send someone straight to the hospital if done incorrectly.
At the beginning, August and Zen were able to follow along.
They were still beginners, but their attempts at the exercises were commendable. They watched carefully, followed the movements, and somehow managed to keep their legs attached to their bodies.
On any normal day, Jordan would have stepped in to help them, correcting their technique and making sure they weren't about to accidentally snap something important.
But this wasn't a normal day.
It was audition day.
And on audition day?
Every dancer for themselves.
At first, it was the slow, gentle pliés.
Nice.
Controlled.
Almost peaceful.
Almost.
But as the exercise continued, the combinations became increasingly intense. The movements grew bigger, faster, and more demanding until the grand battements finally made their appearance.
That was when August and Zen collectively looked at the universe and said,
Nope.
And tapped out.
Meanwhile, Pink and Aqua were simply lying on the floor in splits, casually spilling tea to one another as though they weren't surrounded by dozens of dancers preparing to battle for their lives.
Because apparently, gossip was also an essential part of stretching.
Yone, being the dance monster and choreography extraordinaire that he was, had his eyes closed.
Not because he was sleeping.
Although, honestly, with how calm he looked, one could've fooled me.
He was running through the choreography in his head.
Every count.
Every transition.
Every movement.
Every miniscule detail.
From time to time, his body would twitch or shift, subtly following the choreography playing inside his mind.
He wasn't even dancing yet.
He was already dancing.
Because apparently, Yone's brain had decided that regular human preparation wasn't enough.
Everyone was doing their best to prepare for what was to come.
Some were stretching.
Some were praying.
Some were mentally rehearsing.
Some were gossiping.
Some were questioning every life choice that had brought them here.
And some were probably wondering if they could still escape through the nearest emergency exit.
Oh, and did I mention that the main dancers were hungry?
Because they were.
During the Vocal and Rap auditions, they had been pushed slightly into the background. They'd watched the vocalists and rappers take center stage, giving everything they had to prove themselves.
But now?
Now it was their turn.
The dance floor belonged to them.
And every single one of them was ready to fight tooth and nail to make sure that once that spotlight landed on them...
It stayed there.
****
And so, the evaluators came in, looking ever so amazing.
Like, I know OOTD was a thing of the past, but the fits were just fitting, y'know?
And this time, dance head coach Dora was with the evaluators.
"I can see y'all looking pumped," Dora said as she scanned the trainees, an excited smile spreading across her face. "I sure hope y'all leave it all on the dance floor tonight."
That was all it took.
The trainees erupted into loud cheers.
"Yeah!!!"
Oh, they were pumped alright.
Some started jumping in place. Some cracked their necks. Others shook out their bodies, keeping their muscles warm and ready.
Basically, the entire studio looked like a collection of people preparing for either the biggest performance of their lives or a very stylish street fight.
"Alright, let's not waste any more time," Foca said.
And with that, the evaluators sat in their director's chairs once again.
Now, here's how this was going to work.
The trainees would be divided into groups, with each group performing one after another. The sequence of genres would be: jazz-funk verse, hip-hop chorus, hip-hop rap section, ballroom chorus, dance-break freestyle, contemporary bridge, and finally, the all-genre fusion chorus.
As for the grouping?
Basically, you needed guts.
You wanted to audition for a section? Get your ass onto the dance floor until there were enough people to form a group.
Then they would perform, clear the floor, and everyone would move on to the next group.
And this would continue until every trainee who chose to audition for that section had their turn.
So yeah.
It was going to be fast-paced as hell.
"Alright, first group!" Luca called out.
Immediately, Yone was front and center.
Along with him were August, Nemesis, Porsche, and Andrew.
Now, who the hell is Andrew, you might ask?
Well, good question, my dear lovely friends.
Andrew was an OG trainee known for his flawless dance technique. He was one of those trainees who was just... really fucking good.
Like, really good.
He could go head-to-head with some of the debut lineup's top-tier dancers, including Yone, Jordan, Kitty, Javi, and even August, who was basically an all-around monster with what seemed to be limitless potential as an artist.
Yes.
That's how excellent of a dancer Andrew was.
Now, you might be wondering: if Andrew was that damn good at dancing, why wasn't he part of the debut lineup?
Well, in a pop group, you can't just be good at dancing.
If all you excel at is dance, congratulations. You're probably an excellent backup dancer.
But you're not necessarily debut material.
In LEAVEN, the standard for singing was just as high as the standard for dancing. You needed to be able to do both.
And Andrew, unfortunately for him, wasn't the strongest singer.
Granted, during his time in LEAVEN, his singing had steadily improved. He was much better than when he first started.
But was he good enough to meet the standard required for the debut lineup?
Only time would tell.
As the first group stepped onto the dance floor, the trainees cheered for their fellow contestants. Of course, that didn't stop some of them from immediately starting their own commentary section.
"These guys have balls of steel to actually decide to be in the same group as Yone," Lan said.
"I mean, I don't know about the kid August yet, but Nemesis and Andrew? I'd say they stand a decent chance," Caelen said, deep in contemplation.
"But what in the world is Porsche thinking?" Ramon asked. "Guy's sticking out like a sore thumb!"
"I mean, the guy be feelin' himself lately," Lan said. "Maybe he really has something to back up his confidence."
"He better," Caelen said. "Because if not, everyone in his group will devour him."
To Porsche's credit, he stepped up to the plate looking very confident.
Was it arrogance?
Cockiness?
Or did the man actually have the skills to back up all that confidence?
Well...
We shall see.
"And... cue music!" Foca said.
****
The moment the music started, the faces of the five dancers on the floor immediately changed. It was like someone had flipped a switch. The lights came on, the music started, and suddenly, it was go time.
And to no one's surprise, Yone and Andrew absolutely crushed the choreography. You could practically feel the competitive spirit radiating off the both of them. It was obvious they were actively trying to one-up each other, each movement carrying that silent little challenge of Oh, you did that? Watch me do this.
August and Nemesis came in very close behind them. August, being August, brought that bright, youthful energy, while Nemesis gave off a chill, masculine elegance. The contrast between the two was pretty damn wide, but somehow, it worked beautifully. They were completely different flavors, and yet somehow belonged on the same stage.
Now, what surprised everyone was how well Porsche managed to carry his own weight without getting overshadowed at all.
And yes, I know.
We've been through this before.
I've been dogging on Porsche for being an incel.
But as much as I hate to admit it, the guy was talented.
Very talented, actually.
Much like the rest of the trainees.
The five danced and glided across the stage with precision and grace, moving through the choreography as though their bodies had already memorized every beat.
They hit the jazz-hop sequence, transitioned into a slide, moved through the pas de bourrée, then launched into a triple pirouette before stopping on a dime. Shoulder rolls followed, then...
Boom. Ka-ka.
And that triple pirouette?
All five stopped at exactly the same time.
The evaluators were visibly pleased. Seeing that level of synchronization right out of the gate was exactly what they wanted to see.
And as the auditions continued, the other trainees made damn sure they weren't going to be left in the dust.
Even Monarch, who was still very much battling the flu, showed up.
With ample rest and some IV fluids pumped directly into his system, he was feeling a little better. He had made good on his promise to return for the dance auditions, and although he was nowhere near one hundred percent, he was doing surprisingly well.
In fact, you could've mistaken him for someone who wasn't sick at all...
If it weren't for the occasional coughing fits that reminded everyone, Yeah, this man is absolutely still sick.
Of course, June also did really well, especially considering he'd only had three hours of practice. That alone left the evaluators pleasantly impressed.
And so, the dance auditions continued at full force, fueled primarily by fried chicken, adrenaline, and enough passion to power a small city.