Megan’s and Riley’s moms made casual small talk with ease. But Vanessa was the only one who seemed deep in thought and a little bit distracted.

“Girls, a moment, please,” Vanessa said as we waited in the elevator lobby after breakfast. We paused from our playful banter and turned our attention to her. Vanessa’s words were even-toned. She kept her hands rigid and fingers together, and it seemed like she was using them to wall in her words. “We need to be sharper than ever today. Not just onstage, but when we’re watching other performers, when we’re backstage, when we’re anywhere in between. Okay? Your professionalism is of utmost importance, because it helps show organizers keep everything flowing properly.”

We nodded and stole glances at one another, the seriousness of competing on this level hitting us on an even deeper level than before. The group and solo competitions would be streaming online, and today was set up so that the organizers could run those programs. The best part about today was that each team would get their turn to feel out the stage.

“That said”—Vanessa drew out a sneaky smile, her hands back to their relaxed state—“have fun out there and remind everyone why they first started dancing in the first place!”

We whooped and cheered our way onto the waiting elevator. When the sliding doors opened up to the lower level, the thumping sound of dance music wafted from the grand ballroom up the wide, carpeted hall to greet us.

We headed toward the music, aiming for the rectangular registration table, where three people were seated, each one addressing a line of people waiting to consult with them.

One look at the grandeur of it all, the top-tier dancers milling around, and Megan’s mom was overcome. I mean, she totally got all starry-eyed emoji on us. “Here we are, at the world-class arena I’ve always dreamed of performing in.”

“Really, Mom? I never knew this was a dream of yours,” said Megan, surprised.

Yup. That makes perfect sense, I thought to myself.

Megan’s mom snaps out of her starry daydream. “Don’t be silly,” she said, exasperated. “I was talking about you. You’ve always imagined this.”

“Um, no, we all heard you say—”

“Trina, darling, come and take a look at this,” said Riley’s mom, trying to smooth over the awkwardness, leading her to a display lining one side of the wall.

“Oooh!” said Trina, wide-eyed. “This is . . . wow.”

But this wasn’t just about distracting Trina—the display was legit amazing. We all walked over, totally drawn by the neatly arranged display of autographed portraits.

It was a pop-up museum collection about dance legends. And not just about dance legends, but the ones who’d performed here at this very competition!

“I’ll go sign us in and pick up our passes,” said Vanessa before making her way to the line that had formed in front of the registration table’s A–F sign.

We were so grateful for the extra time to study the wall of fame.