story in second person about a place i am familiar with

Shuffling down the corridor your heart begins to race. The familiar smell of hairspray lingers around you. You can feel the essence of the audience on the other side of the wall, applauding for the previous number. Every time you have been here you were in that transe. That transe of reciting over and over every single move you have practiced. Right now nothing is more important than this…  

Its show time.

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