Curvy Girl: Auditions 7 Upd

“Maya,” she said again, like she was tasting the word. “We’ll call you.”

Audition one: “We’re looking for a different silhouette.” Audition two: “You have beautiful feet, but…” Audition three: silence, then a form letter. Audition four: a choreographer pulled me aside and whispered, “You should try commercial work. More forgiving.” Audition five: I cried in my car. Audition six: I didn’t cry. I just sat in the parking lot and stared at the dashboard until the streetlights came on.

The door opened. A woman with a clipboard and kind, tired eyes called out, “Number seven.” curvy girl auditions 7

Not what’s your number . Not thank you, next . She wanted my name.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the clipboard woman said. “Maya,” she said again, like she was tasting the word

I was auditioning to see if their stage was big enough for me.

And something told me—curves and all—it just might be. More forgiving

At the end, I stopped. The last note of the piano faded.