ROWAN: A look of pain flashed across Michael's face as [INSERT DANCER'S NAME] quickly stepped aside and with lowered, solemn eyes stared at the concrete pavement as the dancers smoothly - this time - completed the move with such clean precision and timing that no re-dos were needed. A look of satisfaction smiled from DIRECTOR'S countenance.
DIRECTOR: "Take 15!"
ROWAN: With the cue, I got up from my perch on a folding chair and scrambled into the sea of stretching, chattering dancers to take Michael aside to touch him up. I knew that the lighting made him look a little paler then naturally he did, so I wanted to add a little more color onto his cheeks. Before I could get a grasp of his jeweled arm, Michael turned aside to the mumble-grumbling director, with his soft lips formed into a straight line.
MICHAEL: "I want him in the shot, he adds spunk and his own creative liberty to the scene. Perfection wasn't a prerequisite-"
DIRECTOR: "Michael, Michael, take a breather will you, look I understand you got to help the underdog and what not, but we got a schedule and limited tape, so we don't have time for a civil rights movement, it's a business Michael, you know it, go big or go home sort of deal."
ROWAN: Director, clapped Michael on a back, as if he had been a spoiled prince. Michael was still fairly new to his solo career and his backbone was still developing. I'm not saying that he was mute and passive, but he tried to stay out of butting heads with directors and managers because like the mafia, they were the big bosses in his industry and career development and with a motion of their fingers could send him hurling to his knees begging for forgiveness. They could drop you and demolish you faster than acid. Director walked away to converse with the stage managers and choreographers.
The fire was in Michael's eyes, and he knew his words had been very clear but instead of listening, the Director had basically told Michael's kind heart to beat it, so he did. He started over to me, with a look of disappointment glowing on his face.
MICHAEL: "I think today will be a wrap. Editing is always the longest part of the process."
ROWAN: His soft voice couldn't help but enchant me as a (I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MAKE UP IRL) dabbed concealer? to his forehead. He went on and on about the energy of his dancers and the set and this and that. He was always bubbling with appreciation for his partners and co-workers. Then in the middle of his sentence about how he wished that the storyline had included a flashback to Darrell prior to attending the boarding school just to show the contrast between his insensitivity to street violence and his now heightened guilt toward crimes towards a brother, he blurted out,
"I can't stomach what Director did. He was totally insensitive to my dancer and I'm sure that, his remark made [INSERT DANCER'S NAME] feel as if he was inferior to us, which he isn't, we all have room for improvement, but you can't improve without failing."
His statement reminded me of the pep talks he [Michael] regularly had with himself before rehearsals or recordings. He always and consistently reminded himself of his potential, dreams and worth. He reminded himself to not put himself in a box but go outside of it and let his soul lead him. And the inspiration he gained from those moments of speaking life into himself, was obvious his energy and creativity could not be contained. This entire Bad scheme or project, should I say, is a reflection of his diligence in his art.
"I'm sure, he sounded a little snooty, but he meant well. A certain level of perfection is needed to be part of the soul of a future national and international successes like this" I replied cooly, taking a blender sponge and smartly going over the peaks of his cheek bones. A faint blush colored over Michael's cheeks. He was so modest and reserved, fame, fortune, popularity, fan-mania were of little value to him as physics. Those prospects were in the back of his heart, those weren't the heart and soul behind what he did.
"Rowan, that was me at some point. My father looked me in the eyes more times than I can count and told me. 'Michael you're not going to amount to anything if you kept dancing or singing like this or that" He'd look me dead in my eyes and say that and nitpick at me and it'd break my heart. I wouldn't ever say that to anyone else. I wouldn't ever dream of those words coming out my mouth because words hurt, nasty words crush the spirit. I used Joe's words to fuel my dream to be the best of the best, a creator of wonder and thrill and escapism, but some will take those words and use them to kill the person they dreamed of becoming. People who say those sort of things don't have souls."
ROWAN: I wouldn't say his tone was exactly friendly, it had a little sour bite to it, which made me smirk at him, but I kept my mouth shut, no need to go back and forth with a radical.