I bit my lip and tried the scale again. I felt my fingers fly through the progression, and I played the phrase just as my mind imagined it should sound. I rested my hands and waited for my teacher, Ms. Julie to respond. We had been practicing this piece exclusively in preparation for my audition to a prestigious middle school for the performing arts. I was intimidated by the audition as it was, but I was beginning to feel more intimidated by my teacher. She clicked her tongue in disapproval and corrected something about my posture. My shiny, black Mary Janes stretched to the pedals and I tried with all my will to remain straight. Suddenly, my mouth went dry. I heard a crack from the audition door as it echoed through the hallway.
I was next.
I was next.