by JJ Knight
Plus, I know tonight is Giselle’s date. Blitz is feeling some fatigue. I can see it in his eyes. The girls only have one late night. Blitz has to do them all.
I think the others see it too, because they cancel my rehearsal with Blitz in the afternoon. He goes on to wardrobe for the Giselle date. Since this leaves an empty space for me too, I decide to go see him.
When I arrive at his dressing room door, I hesitate. I’ve never gone inside. Then I berate myself for that. Out of everyone in this cast and crew, I have the most right to walk in there. I’m the one who sleeps beside him every night!
But still, it feels like trespassing, as if this version of Blitz doesn’t quite belong to me.
I knock on the door.
Hannah answers it, and I’m shocked to see her. I thought Blitz wasn’t speaking to his manager. She’s smug and put together in a pale yellow suit.
“Can I help you, Livia?” she asks.
“They canceled our dance practice,” I say. “I thought I’d hang out with Blitz while he’s in wardrobe.”
“That’s not a good idea,” she says. “They’re doing some candid filming.”
“I can hide with the crew,” I say. “I saw last night how it works.”
Hannah’s face is set. “Not going to happen. Now run along.”
Oh my God. My face flames. She’s treating me like a little girl! When Blitz is mine!
“No, thank you.” I push her aside and head into the dressing room.
I am completely unprepared for what I see.
Giselle is in there, wearing only a pair of panties. Her arms are draped over her chest for modesty. A camera is aimed at her and a crew member holds a panel so that it lights up her bare skin.
And she is sitting on Blitz’s lap!
I feel faint, absolutely faint.
Blitz’s back is to me, but Giselle can see me perfectly. She gets this smirk on her face, but keeps her arms where they need to be for the shot. “Oh, look who has arrived.”
Blitz sees me, and there is no shock there. Just tiredness and resolve. “Up to their old tricks,” he says. “Television drama.”
I immediately understand what he’s doing. If he talks like that, they can’t use the shot, because it’s not right for the show. It’s talking about the show.
I could follow his lead. Talk about the producers or the director or something that isn’t usable.
Or I could take that bitch down.
I take a deep breath, remind myself who I am, and calmly step forward as one of the cameras eagerly turns to me.
“Giselle, put some clothes on,” I say. I pick up a nearby towel and toss it to her. “Or don’t bother. Everybody’s already seen you naked. It’s not even interesting anymore.”
She does what I think she will, which is to automatically reach for the towel before it hits her. Her boobs fly free, making it a nude shot, and no longer usable.
Blitz immediately realizes what I’ve done and bites his lip to keep from smiling.
I head over and take his hand, pulling him out of the chair, which forces Giselle off his lap. “You seem tired. Let’s grab something to eat before you have to do any more shooting.”
“Works for me,” he says.
He’s dressed at least, already in a shiny button-down shirt and pants. So I lead him out of the room and into the hall, knowing the cameras won’t follow. I roll my eyes at Hannah as we pass. Might as well be the kid she thinks I am.
“Did you know they were going to do that?” I ask.
“Only about five minutes before they did it,” he says. We head to the viewing room, where Jessie and Shelly usually wait with our lunches if they aren’t with us.
“You figured it out when they canceled the rehearsal?”
“Yeah, that’s their MO when they are going to spring something on me,” he says. “Plus there were too many cameras in the dressing room for random footage of getting ready for a date.”
I want to ask if she came in naked or stripped for him, but I’m guessing I’ll find out when it airs. Uggh. This job.
We head into the viewing room. There’s a smattering of people. A couple of other dancers, eating salads, and several of the assistants, including ours. One of the girls in black, probably Giselle’s girl, pops up when she sees Blitz and takes off for the door.
“I guess you were supposed to have taken longer with her,” I say. We sit at one of the tables and Shelly and Jessie unpack our coolers.
Blitz rubs his eyes. “I really wasn’t up for those antics when I have to spend all evening with her,” he says.
“I wish I could come with you and help out,” I say.
Blitz laughs. “This sounds so ridiculous, right? My girlfriend coming with me on a date.”
“Like some terrible made-for-TV drama,” I say with a grin. “Oh…wait.”
Blitz smiles and I sense him relaxing a little.
This is hard on both of us.
I lean in to whisper in his ear. “I’ll be waiting for you when you are done with her,” I say.
He closes his eyes a minute, then he says, “If I look at all like I’m anticipating something wonderful in this part of the episode, it will be you.”
We eat close together, our shoulders touching, until Shelly lets him know it’s time for him to go.
We are going to get through this.
Chapter 23
From what I hear, Giselle’s date is a bust. She keeps trying to get him to kiss her, push her against the wall, look like they are having sex. But Blitz is having none of it.
Duke’s texts are hilarious.
She-cat’s in heat!
Blitz just ordered her raw steak and called her a cougar. Oh, she is mad!
I’m pleased it was horrible, but also know that those antics will get a lot of airplay. It’s just too Tweetable.
The next week’s shooting is so much easier. No dates. No late nights. Just dancing, set, wardrobe. There are a few interviews in the dressing room like Devon said, questions about my dancing history and what I will be doing with Blitz. I meet the announcer Barry and he laughs about how I charged on the stage for the finale, leaving him speechless for the first time in his life.
I hear rumors that there are arguments between the other girls caught on camera, but I’m left out of it, other than the accidental one with Giselle. I hope they don’t try to manufacture something on the live show. I don’t know how I will handle it.
It feels strange not being able to see what we’ve done so far. I want to know how the date episode looks, how my practice footage is working, if I should adjust. Devon assures me I’m doing fine and that the editing is going well.
The first hint I get about what will go into the episodes is when I’m sent to the recording booth to say some of the lines from the castle date.
A sound engineer shows me around. There’s a big screen showing a still of me on the staircase in the castle, and a microphone and headset next to a transcript printed out of what I said.
I finger it all, fascinated. “So I have to say it again?”
“Yes, we’ll practice it so it matches your mouth.”
He points to the door. Devon has come in and pauses in front of the screen.
“When you came down the stairs,” Devon says, “what you said was perfect and how you said it was perfect. Unfortunately, you took a big echoing step on that wood staircase, and we lost a word.”
The engineer plays the moment with the original sound. I watch eagerly as the footage shows me walking down the steps. It cuts to Blitz, and he says, “You look beautiful, like a princess.”
Then I say my line. “Is that why you chose a castle for our date?”
And I hear it. I take a step down on the word “castle” and it disappears in the CLUNK sound of my shoe.
“All we have to do is have you record the line again. It might take a few tries to make it match,” he says. “But we’ll get it.”
I glance at the transcript. “Do I have to redo everyt
hing from that night?” I ask.
“Oh, no,” he says. “That would be too expensive. There’s only five lines, I think. This one, one on the floor when a microphone buzzed, and a few outside where we just didn’t pick you up.”
I nod and look at the page. We practice the castle line a few times, and the engineer explains how I’ll hear three audible beeps with flashes, then the flash with a silent beep is when I start talking.
I mess up the first couple of tries and talk too soon or too late, but then I get it. We have the new lines recorded again quickly.
Devon stands up as I pull my headset off. “Good work, Livia. It’s nice to have the prerecorded show about ready to go. It will air in a couple weeks and then we’ll be ready for the live ones.”
He pats my shoulder and takes off. I’m about to follow him when I notice another sheet below mine. I shift the top page aside and see some lines that Christy will have to rerecord. I quickly read them.
“I just want us to have a chance, Blitz.”
“Tell me you’re not really in love with her.”
“She can’t feel as passionate about you as I do.”
My stomach sinks. Were there others?
The third page is full of Blitz lines, all from the castle. Nothing for Giselle or Mariah.
I glance up at the screen again. The last scene I recorded was during the waltz, when we thought no one could hear us. I had whispered, “I love you.”
I sure hope I’m not going to look too stupid on the show. I keep telling myself it won’t matter. In the end, Blitz will walk away with me, no matter what the television voters decide.
But I do still have pride. And I am still a little afraid.
Chapter 24
Even though we’re not filming, we still have plenty to do to prepare for the upcoming live shows. The series premiere with episode one is a week away, and this will set the tone for what the TV viewers will think as they learn they are now in control of the winner of Dance Blitz. Voting will begin on live episode two.
I didn’t realize there would be a red carpet premiere viewing until one day during ballet rehearsal, Jessie pops in to say I’m expected in wardrobe in five. This isn’t on my schedule.
I slip out of my toe shoes and head down the hall. Cameron and Kendra are there with a rack of glittery gowns.
“What are those for?” I ask. None of them look easy to dance in.
“Two designers are vying to show off their dresses at the premiere,” Cameron says. “These are on loan, so each of you girls have to choose one and send the rest back.”
I approach the row of dresses in a half-dozen colors. “So there will be cameras on us?”
Cameron and Kendra exchange a look. They have no idea that I was banned from TV and social media for years. Only in the past few months have I been able to connect with the world, and Blitz surely hasn’t done any premieres since I’ve known him.
“I’ve decided to let Blitz’s look be determined by yours,” Kendra says. “I assume you two will go together, no matter what the producers say.” She sorts through the rack.
“The producers don’t want us going together?” I feel lost and confused.
“Of course not,” Kendra says. “It spoils the illusion that this is actually a competition.”
The urge to snatch my phone and look at the other season premieres is intense. “Who did Blitz go with to the others?”
“Stag,” Kendra says. “Of course. It was in his contract. They must have known not to try it this time around.”
I walk up to the dresses. “We’re just in this to finish out his obligations. It doesn’t matter how it goes in the end.”
Another glance between the women. I know Kendra went on all the dates as the stylist, but I had insider information on that with Duke. Does anyone here actually believe the contest is for real?
I’ve been fairly isolated from the other finalists, but now I wonder why. Are they plotting things I don’t know about? A tremor of fear runs through me. Is there anything they can actually do to hurt us?
Kendra turns to the rack and pulls off an aqua-blue dress. “I like this one.”
Cameron considers it. “Do you think we’re overdoing the blue?”
“Possibly,” Kendra says. “But the public’s memory is short. Even with just four contestants, we want to make sure they always know her from Mariah.”
This makes me want to scream. Mariah and I look nothing alike.
Kendra sees my expression and says, “Livia, there will definitely be hard-core fans who will know your every expression, but for a lot of the casual viewers the two dark-haired ones are going to blend together.”
She holds the dress up to me. “I think it’s good to keep her in blue and the others out of it, like the Virgin Mary.” She laughs and I burn inside again.
“Go try it on,” Cameron says. “And don’t damage it. It’s all on loan.”
I take the hanger from her and head to the curtained section. The dress is heavy, beaded from top to bottom, shifting in color from almost white at the top to a medium blue at the bottom. All the beads are white, which lightens the overall tone of the dress. It’s very beautiful, and very simple, just slender straps on top with a square neck. When I put it on, it spills on the ground in the back like a wedding train. It’s a couple inches too long in the front as well.
I pick up the skirt as I walk back out to show the others.
I’m more than a little stunned to see Mariah and Christy in the room.
“More blue,” Mariah says simply.
“It’s the color Blitz loves on her,” Christy says in a singsong voice. The two of them laugh like it’s some big joke.
I ignore them and turn to Cameron. “It’s too long,” I say.
“Nothing some killer heels won’t solve,” she says. She tugs on the bodice, waist, and back. “It’s a good fit. Not a standout dress, but very pretty.”
“What do you have for me?” Mariah asks.
The four women go over to a different rack. I assume I must be done. I spot Jessie in the corner and she gives me a sympathetic smile.
When I’m back in my ballet outfit, I carry the dress out. Cameron and Kendra are still sorting through dresses with Mariah and Christy, so I just hang the dress up and leave. I can see I’m not their priority.
I tell myself again that it doesn’t matter.
When Jessie and I get in the hall, the assistant choreographer runs up to say Blitz is ready to rehearse our number for the second live show, the one where I do a ballet. I’m completely relieved to be able to see him after the stress of the wardrobe room. I send Jessie back to the workout studio to collect my toe shoes.
The stage is mostly empty, although our prop for that dance is partially constructed. It’s a tall, pale blue fake ice sculpture of a goddess, robes flowing, her hair blowing wildly out. It matches our dance, which depicts the ice goddess thawing with the arrival of a man.
Blitz is talking to Amara, who is showing him a deep gentlemanly bow. He tries it, and she adjusts him over and over again. I sit on the floor to tie on my toe shoes. Amara sees me and gestures for a girl holding a flat stiff pancake tutu to approach.
When I stand up, she lowers the tutu so I can step inside it. She seats it properly on my hips, then hooks the closure in the back.
I’ve never worn a pancake tutu, only flowing ones, and as soon as I lower my arms, my wrists smack into the stiff netting. I jerk them back up.
“That’s why we’re practicing with it early,” Amara says. “They take getting used to for both of you. Blitz will have to get accustomed to dealing with the distance he’ll need to keep to avoid smashing it.”
Interesting they are doing this. In a classic tutu like this, we’ll have to stay at arm’s length, like the most traditional ballet.
“I guess we won’t be making out onstage,” I tell him.
He smiles. “I can get around any obstacle.” To prove it, he leans over and presses a kiss on my mouth.
As we run through the dance, the spotters moving forward with each lift since we might run into trouble with the tutu, I realize how stilted and formal it feels. I wonder if I’m being sabotaged. The dance is pretty, and I think the viewers will like it. But we’re not talking about choosing a ballet partner. This is about making a commitment with someone.
And with this dance and this getup, we’re going to look like we barely know each other.
Chapter 25
With most of the prerecorded film spots done, and lots of rehearsal clips ready to go, the schedule slows down. We get Saturdays as well as Sundays off. Blitz and I decide to seek out the instructor Bex told us about so we can do more work with the aerial silks.
The new instructor is male, and he really helps Blitz get a feel for how acrobatic the silks can be. We develop a few simple moves as a couple that are new, including an impressive drop where I appear to fall off the silks and Blitz catches me. It’s more startling than pretty, something you’d see at a circus rather than in the context of dance.
Despite Blitz and I spending far more time apart than we had in San Antonio, I feel we’re doing better than before. We’re more aware of our time together and don’t take it for granted. Blitz takes me to the beach, and Rodeo Drive. Sometimes we rent a random car and work hard not to be seen.
Other times, we take a selfie with the location obvious, and hang around for the inevitable crowd to form, asking for autographs and taking pictures.
Blitz and I don’t talk about it out loud, but I get the sense he’s trying to ensure that when the live voting starts, there is plenty of support for the two of us, and the other girls won’t have a chance. I guess some might call it sneaky or underhanded, but honestly, he just wants the world to be on board with what he’s already decided.
Me.
I’m crazy anxious when the team arrives at our house the morning of the premiere to start the prep. It’s eight hours until we step onto the red carpet, and everyone is already complaining about not having enough time.