“Here, I’ll get the lights,” Cole said. He took off in the direction of what she assumed was the sound booth, typically situated at the back of the theatre. A minute or two later, the stage lights were on and the house went dark. Rachel’s phone rang, and she went out into the alley to answer the call, leaving Charlotte alone.
“I think there’s a pretty decent sound system,” Cole called out from the back of the theatre.
She stepped out onto the stage and into the light, looking out across the darkness that fell over the seats. Even Cole was hidden in the shadows, and for a moment, it was as if she was all alone up there.
A familiar song began, filtering through the speakers overhead. It was a piece from a movie soundtrack, and it stirred something inside her right away. She felt her toes curl inside her shoes, as if her body were made to do this thing she desperately did not want to do anymore.
Was it possible to still love to dance but to not want the life dancing had forced her to have?
The volume increased as Cole tested the speakers, and Charlotte’s brain spun with ideas—choreographing a dance in her mind, as if her body was made to move. She was shocked (and a little sad) to realize a part of her missed dancing. How could she not? It was all she’d ever known, all she strived for.
Had she been too hasty in walking away? Why were there no guarantees that she’d made the right decision?
She turned gently, away from the back of the auditorium, trying a move, feet playing out the steps she saw in her mind. She reminded herself Cole was watching—he could see her internal struggle as it surfaced right there on the stage in front of him, but after several seconds of holding it in, the music swelled and Charlotte’s shoulders snapped back into position, her arms delicate but strong, outstretched on either side of her.
And it was just her and the music.
She let her body flow with the familiar orchestral piece, the sound of the strings filling her, leading her on a path across the stage. Her muscles tightened as she turned—not full out, but not cautious.
She closed her eyes, marking the steps as they raced through her mind, reminding her how it felt to be sure of herself, to have the confidence that she was excellent, that she was made for this exact thing.
Why would she ever think she could be anything else?
What if this was all she was? What if she really had nothing else to offer?
What if she’d made a terrible mistake?
She snapped back to a standing position and the music stopped. She stared out toward the back of the auditorium, into the sound booth, aware that she’d lost herself and Cole had been the only one to see it.
It was unlikely he’d realized or cared about her internal struggle, but she felt naked and vulnerable all the same.
She turned away, embarrassed. She’d revealed a part of herself she hadn’t intended to share.
The house lights came up, though still dim, and she forced herself to pretend. No sense making it even more awkward than it already was. She turned around and drew in the beautiful space. The auditorium was big enough for a good-sized crowd, probably over five hundred people. The floors sloped at the top, looking down on the stage, making every seat a good one, and the theatre managed to have a sort of elegant feel, despite being part of a campground.
“Kind of a shame they don’t use this place anymore,” she called out to Cole’s shadowy figure in the back.
He slipped out from the sound booth and approached the stage, making quick work of the stairs in the center aisle. He surveyed the empty seats.
“They used to put on shows here all year long. Summer was the busiest. Harbor Pointe is a small town, but this place had a reputation, and somehow they drew audiences from miles away.” He walked up the stairs and onto the stage.
“Does anyone use it for anything anymore?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Silas always loved Julianna, so he made an exception for her recitals, but honestly, I think it’s too painful for him now that he’s alone.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not really my scene.”
“Yeah, you said that,” she said, feigning surprise. “It was a shocking revelation.”