Click. Click. Click. There is a slight pause that is all too familiar for everyone there. They have heard it almost too often in that day; but for some of them, this is what they have been waiting for all afternoon. Click. Click. Click. By the time this second set of clicks has begun, the audience erupts—it has dawned on them exactly what is about to ensue.

She cannot hear the taps any longer, but she is putting her trust in her own two feet. She does not know why, but she is not shaking. She feels the weight of her role on her shoulders, but she does not tremble. This time it is for real, she says to herself, the others were merely practices for this very occasion—this is the moment of all moments. She is tense, because she knows that if she does not sell it, no one is going to buy it. Everything has built up to this, and if she makes one mistake, it all flies out the window. Yet, she does not even twitch.

Not one muscle wavers from its place as the word rockets into the air, magnified by 150 voices in perfect unison. It is a word that oozes confidence, that projects dignity, that represents honor. Some in the crowd flinch at the power of this word, carried across space and time to reach their ears-- and it feels mighty. They begin to cross the field, to stand in a spot that is as comfortable to them as home. They walk, they march, they stop. There is a silence, not unlike the quiet before a storm. The audience has quieted in anticipation, as if they were about to experience the most thrilling ten minutes of their lives. The girl cracks a small smile—too small to be seen from the stands—and she thinks to herself, they have no idea what is about to hit them.

In that moment of quiet, it is truly silent—until the sound reaches out to the audience and slaps them in the face. The audience is stunned, but it is love at first sight—they are wanting, craving more. Suddenly the people are off; they move in all sorts of directions too fast for a camera to process, but to the human eye, it is remarkable. They are felt, but not seen. It is far too hard to concentrate on one person it the rotating and interchanging formations. It is impossible to see and to hear everything because of the vast myriad of complicated movements mixed with tricky harmonies. They are felt, but not heard. Organized chaos ensues and they can hear the fans’ amazement, feel their gasps as they approach the big hit.

She can feel their eyes watching her every move, trying to make some sense out of the ongoing pandemonium. She smiles in her mind, since her mouth is tied up at the moment, because the movements are now natural to her; she advances her steps as if she had been born doing it. Nevertheless, there are features she must still think about. A fear that is only human creeps into the corners of her mind, and for a second her feet want to stumble. She wants it, though, she wills them not to trip as they have a thousand times before, and miraculously, they listen to her instruction.

Their job was to entertain, they were told. Scores did not matter, and opinion was not fact. Yet, all season long they had run the gauntlet, criticized weekly for their blood, sweat, and tears; but they were better for it. They had modified the old saying “practice makes perfect” to “practice makes better,” because they would never, ever be perfect. They were tired, hungry, and overwhelmed, yet still passionate, willing, and strong. They had put their lives on the shelf for four months to make it here and they were not going to quit now. They had forgotten what instant gratification felt like, and instead preferred to earn what they could for their hard work. They had been held in the hands of judges, ready to be squeezed like putty into a shape that is almost impossible to form.

Ah, but they had been molded to fit—they had no doubt of that. They were complete strangers to the ignorant people they had been not too long ago. They could feel the change, and the spectators could feel it, too. That is to say, they loved every minute of it. And this was the whole point of everything they had worked for. In that moment—that moment when eyes widen and bodies freeze in shock of the impact that is transferred like Newton’s Cradle—it all becomes worth it.