THE SECRET TAPE RECORDINGS – PART 33


 THE SECRET TAPE RECORDINGS – PART 33

There was one crucial person we hadn’t yet met: Power Suit’s boss, the man who called the shots above her. He was an old song-and-dance man, someone who had worked as a cruise director on another ship before moving up in the company. We called him The Bull.

The Bull was the charming, smiling type—always flashing a grin and winking, but with the subtle danger of a serpentready to strike. He was the one who answered to the company god, and we all answered to him through Power Suit. It was a complex web of control, one I was starting to understand all too well.

The next day, rehearsals continued as usual. I was about to head into the studio when the Director stopped me in the hall. “Can I ask you a question?” he said, looking serious.

“Of course,” I replied.

“Do you remember the kid who was at the audition with you?” he asked. “We’re thinking of using him for the next project.”

“I think I remember him,” I said, uncertain of where this was headed.

“Good,” the Director said, getting closer. “Was he a good dancer?”

I could feel his breath close to my face. “I think so,” I muttered.

I entered the rehearsal room, trying to shake off the strange encounter. But as the day wore on, the tension continued to mount.

The choreography felt like it was stuck in an endless loop—fifty-three million rehearsals, none of them finished. The Director began pulling the boys down front, rearranging them into a trio, while I and another cast member were left in the back, doing a monotonous routine. The air in the room was thick with frustration, and no one seemed to know when it would end.

After what felt like hours, we were finally told to take a break. As I wandered into the hallway, I saw Power Suit and the choreographer deep in conversation, trying to convince him to stay after his apparent frustration. I didn’t feel like I had much hope left in this system. It was all crumbling, piece by piece.

When we returned to the rehearsal room, I saw the list for the next round of meetings. New contracts would be discussed. My name was at the bottom of the list, just after a cast member the Director had promised to replace. It felt like a sign that something was about to happen.

Later that night, the first of the meetings began. Cast members returned with reports: they were being asked to sign contracts that would extend their stay for a full year. I knew in my heart that I couldn’t do it. Nine months had already felt like a lifetime—I couldn’t stomach a full year.

The stress was taking its toll, and I began to feel the walls closing in. Even Useless, who lived right next door to me, seemed to be watching my every move. The feeling of being trapped was overwhelming. I lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, my mind racing. I knew it was time for me to make a decision.

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