Amy gave a shrug and a smile. “You’re not wrong.” She dusted herself off a little more. God, did she ever hate how easily she wound up dirty. It was all part of the dustbowl’s charm, she supposed. It was something she needed to accept along with every other part of the carnival. She was still working on that acceptance bit and would be for a while, she imagined.
“There’s a reason everyone pounds ‘practice makes perfect’ into our brains. Because it’s true. Of course, even if they laughed good-naturedly at a slip up in the routine you can bet I’d still wind up blushing like crazy.” She confessed with a wince and a smirk. At least the act had another person as part of it, though. Rachel, the other singer and dancer, could easily take all the attention away from Amy in a positive sort of way. The other girl was simply that talented.
Amy shook Simon’s hand, a friendly expression on her face. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon. You’re probably better off than me as far as jobs go. I think it’d be nice to spend the day selling tickets. It seems like a safer job than, say, being an elephant trainer. Less chance of getting stepped on and all that.” She laughed quietly, but meant every word. Truth be told, her spill had her envious of people with jobs that didn’t involve standing before an audience.