by JJ Knight
She shrugs. “There is no way to know.”
Devon approaches us. “New plan. No dance. We have four minutes to kill. Let’s do some individual backstage interviews, one with each of you. Go.”
Mariah and I are separated by crew members and hurried to our dressing rooms.
Inside mine, a cameraman is setting up as fast as he can.
An assistant director stands next to him, tapping on his tablet. “Coming up on the end of the break,” he says.
I start to panic as he starts a countdown. I’m all alone in here!
“And in five, four…”
Barry walks in, and I sigh in relief.
“Three, two, one.”
The camera turns to Barry. “We’re backstage with one of our two final girls in this crazy episode of Dance Blitz.” He turns to me. “Livia, how surprised are you to be one of the last girls standing?”
Ugh. What a question. If I say I expected it, I’m egotistical. If I say I didn’t, it suggests I don’t have a special connection with Blitz.
“Any ideas?” Barry prompts. “What did you think of tonight?”
I wonder — what would Blitz do? And I have it.
“It’s all about the fans,” I say. “They had faith in me, and I am so grateful.”
Barry turns to the camera. “Isn’t she a doll, America? Don’t forget to vote on your choice tonight! You have two hours after the broadcast to get it in.”
Back to me. “Livia, if you had one thing to say that would sway the viewers out there to cast their vote for you, what would it be?”
That’s simple. “I’m the one who truly loves him.”
Barry puts his hand over his heart. “Our director is still onstage with Blitz, where they’re recovering from Giselle’s crazy train. Let’s see what is in our dancing Romeo’s mind now that he’s missed his last dance with the wild, passionate Giselle.”
The camera light goes off. “Thanks, Livia,” Barry says. He and the cameraman hurry out into the hall, probably to go see Mariah in her room.
I lay my head on the counter as Jessie rushes in.
“Oh my God, Livia, what happened to Giselle? Is she crazy? She dropped like five thousand f-bombs on live television!”
My head twists so I can look at her. “There’s a thirty-second delay so they can bleep it out before it actually goes live.”
“Oh, thank God,” Jessie says, collapsing in a chair. “I thought they were going to have to carry her off the stage.”
“They don’t like wild cards on live TV,” I say.
“I guess this is it,” Jessie says. “The episode tonight determines the votes for the last show. What are you guys going to do on it?”
“They are bringing back a bunch of the girls for group numbers,” I say. “I’ll have a dance with Blitz, and Mariah will have one, and we will take part in a silly one where they are all fighting over him.”
“Oh, that sounds fun,” she says.
The noise level outside intensifies, indicating the live show is over. Jessie opens the door. “See you on Thursday,” she says.
“Bye, Jessie.”
I realize I only have one more week with her, with all this. I’ve gotten to know more people in the past couple of months than in the past four years. A lump forms in my throat. I won’t miss the drama and the crazy schedule and the other finalists. But going back to normal life will definitely be a change.
Chapter 34
Giselle’s meltdown is something Blitz and I don’t talk about much. Despite our difficulties with her, neither of us like how things ended. We speculate that maybe she thought she was going to get special treatment due to her relationship with a producer, or maybe it was even promised.
But we don’t know. Even Blitz isn’t privy to that level of internal deception if it were true.
The last week of rehearsals is very different from the others. Twenty former Dance Blitz contestants return, including the finalists from season one, when Blitz refused to accept any of them.
There are only five dressing rooms other than Blitz’s, so we all end up sharing. Three girls from season two come to mine, and immediately they laugh when they see I’ve covered up the mirror.
“I did that too!” exclaims a friendly Hispanic girl with a wild curly mane of hair. “But you missed this one!” She tugs on the baseplate below one of the mirror lights and it swings open. Another camera points at the door.
“Oh!” I say. “Is that all?”
“That’s all we knew about,” she says, and introduces herself as Amelia. “One of our girls was so paranoid she draped all the walls with sheets.”
“And you came back for more this week,” I say.
“You bet we did!” Amelia says, turning to the mirror to pick out some of her curls. “There is no better exposure for getting new work than to go on one of these reality shows. I’ve been trying to get on Dancing with the Stars as a trainer partner for a year!”
One of the crew girls pops her head in. “Dance rehearsal onstage in five,” she says.
We head out into the hall to go to the main stage. This last episode is just for fun until the winner is announced, as the votes were already tallied the previous week. So there will be upbeat numbers, clips from both seasons, and interviews to close out the show.
Blitz is already onstage when we get there, and he gets caught up in the sea of girls who want to hug him or just get close. I hang back, and I catch Mariah doing the same. She seems particularly interested in watching some of the other second-season girls and how they interact with him.
I wonder what she thinks will happen even if she wins. He’s just going to do his final dance with her, say good-bye to everyone, and move on.
Amara claps her hands to quiet everyone. “All right, girls, we have four instructors here to help you all. This number is designed to spotlight each of you for a few seconds. About halfway in, Blitz will arrive, then near the end, Mariah and Livia. Let’s get everyone in a starting position.”
The rehearsal is way more lively than anything we’ve done before. None of the practice studios will hold us all, so we stay on the stage much of the day.
In addition to the big opening scene, some of the girls have their own numbers with guest dancers to fill out the male roles. Blitz will only dance onstage in the opener, then two spotlights on me and Mariah.
For our last dance, Blitz and I are doing aerial silks. It was a natural fit after all the talk about them. It has a circus feel, a little on the silly side, and we’ll do some fun drops that will make the audience gasp. They look way harder than they are.
While the main girls work out their parts, Blitz, Mariah, and I sit out in the audience. Blitz tells me about some of the girls, and he and Mariah particularly enjoy sharing stories about some of the recent ones.
I’m already feeling nostalgic by the time the day ends. There’s only three days left of rehearsals with everyone, and the show.
Then it will be over.
Chapter 35
A live show with this many girls is an entirely different animal than the ones with only finalists. The halls are often filled with people, girls in their costumes, small prop tables, and extra crew. I get the idea that this is what the early parts of each season were like, as everyone seems familiar with the setup.
Backstage has to be controlled, as all the girls want to watch everything and it’s too hectic, plus the noise level is too much for a live show. Duke ends up doing some security work keeping the girls corralled and out of the stage wings.
Watching his eyes light on one scantily clad dancer after another, it’s clear that he does not mind.
The show begins with a bit where Barry shows clips of some of the highlights of the show. The girls are all rapt, watching for mentions of themselves on the screen in the dressing room.
After a few minutes of that, I decide to wander down to Blitz’s dressing room. I’d rather spend the last few minutes before our final show with him.
A hulkin
g man in the crew’s black outfits stands outside Blitz’s door, presumably to keep the girls out. As far as I know, they aren’t doing any live bits anywhere beyond the stage. All the clips were prerecorded.
He looks at me as I approach, and I think he’ll keep me out, but he doesn’t. His meaty hand opens the door. “Good evening, Miss Livia,” he says.
Shelly is inside with Blitz, as well as a wardrobe girl. They arrange all his costumes in order.
Blitz is lying on a bench by the back wall, his forearm across his face.
“Is this a preshow ritual I don’t know about?” I ask.
He moves aside and smiles when he sees me. “You have entered the den of iniquity!” he says.
I look around. “The camera-filled den,” I say. “Between me and the girls, we’ve got all the ones in our dressing room covered up.”
“They won’t allow me to do that,” he says, sitting up and patting the cushioned bench beside him. “But we should be done with them. I don’t think there will be any surprises tonight other than the winner.”
I sit down next to him. I’m in a sparkly royal-blue dress, very traditional for dance, with a fitted top and short skirt. All the girls are wearing the same type of dress for the opening number. Mariah’s is emerald green, the color they have always favored for her. Blitz’s fitted body suit is half blue, half green. It’s all designed so you can pick the three of us out easily. Most of the other girls are wearing subdued colors, pale pink, yellow, peach, mint.
Blitz reaches for my hand and runs his thumb across my palm. He seems nostalgic, and maybe even a little sad.
“Hard to let your show go?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Technically, I let it go when you came on the finale last December,” he says. “It was such a shocking end, though, I guess I sailed right through it.”
“But not this time,” I say.
Shelly and the wardrobe girl discreetly step out of the room.
Blitz draws me closer. “This show made me a household name,” he says. “I’m not sad to leave it behind, but it’s still a sentimental moment.” He glances up at his TV screen, in commercial now, the sound muted. “I like to think it was a success because of me.”
“Of course it was,” I say. “You’re the Blitz of Dance Blitz!”
“It’s going to go on without me,” he says. “They are going to cast a new bachelor for next season.”
“You okay with that?” I ask.
“Hell, yeah,” he says. “I’m on as a producer. It will be a steady income long after I’m gone.”
“When did this happen?”
“Earlier today. Signed provisional agreements.”
“Will you need to be in LA?”
“Not at all,” he says. “No more than Bennett is.”
“Is he still a producer?” I ask.
“Nope. Sold me his share.”
I lay my head against his shoulder, realize I’m crushing my hair, and sit up again. “Tomorrow we get to go back to real life,” I say.
“We do. I thought we could hang out another week or so in the LA place, then fly back.”
“Sounds good to me,” I say.
Shelly pops her head in. “Time for the opening number,” she says.
We get up, fingers still entangled, to head to our final moments on the stage.
Chapter 36
One girl falls during her dance, which creates a little drama for the show when she has to be carried off. It also runs us behind, and a few clips have to be cut to keep us on track. My dance with Blitz goes well, as does Mariah’s. There’s a lot of laughter and a party atmosphere in the halls.
By the time all the girls line up in a giant semicircle at the back of the stage for the announcement of the winner, everyone is more subdued. It’s an ending for Blitz, and everyone seems to be thinking about the dreams that were dashed here when they weren’t chosen.
I’m deadly calm. I know where my life is going, starting tomorrow. What the viewers do for the vote is really irrelevant.
Mariah, too, seems relaxed. She smiles at me as we take our places on the stage. Blitz holds a giant bouquet of flowers. There will be no farewell dance tonight, only one with the winner.
It’s the same dance we prepared in the event of a farewell earlier in the season, nothing dramatic. It’s my understanding that confetti is going to fall, and that the audience members in the seats will be dropped T-shirts and other swag after the announcement. Apparently a few vendors have known all week who the winner was, but nobody has leaked it.
Barry is dramatic, as always. I watch him talk, savoring this last moment of seeing him right in front of me, working the audience in his smooth announcer way. I assume he’ll get to stay as the new bachelor arrives. I think of some other man on the stage, wooing a new set of girls. I’ll have to ask Blitz if it’s going to be live or recorded, the dancer’s choice or a viewer vote.
But that doesn’t matter right now.
Beyond the stage lights, in the parts I can see despite the glare, are the audience members. It’s different from that first fledgling recital I did years ago at Dreamcatcher Academy, but in a lot of ways it’s the same. I’ve done my best, held up against nervousness and fear. I got it done.
The giant screens are focused on me and Mariah. Barry turns and looks at Blitz. I no longer really register what he’s saying, just take in the moment, the roar of expectation, the excitement in the restless crowd.
“Tonight Blitz gets to tell us the winner,” Barry says, and this gets my attention. “He may have given the choice to you, America, but he’ll get to say her name.”
I wonder if he’d change it, make the winner be who he wants after all. His grin is devilish, possibly imagining what would happen if the girl he hands the flowers to isn’t the same as the one on all the T-shirts about to be dropped.
Blitz turns around, his face looking straight into the live camera. “It is my immense pleasure to finally announce the winner of Dance Blitz.”
He turns to look at the two of us. “They are both great women, and I’ve been honored to work with them.”
He flashes a grin at us both. “But the girl you chose is Livia Mays.”
The crowd goes crazy. I watch Blitz’s face, earnest and happy. I wonder if I’m the real winner, if the vote counted.
But it doesn’t matter.
Mariah gives me a quick hug and quickly exits the stage. Blitz approaches me with the flowers and leans over them to give me a long, lingering kiss.
This is our moment, and as promised, pale sparkling confetti dots the stage as it rains down from overhead.
The shirts start dropping over the audience, and we pause to watch the fans catch them. On the big screen, a camera zooms in on a fan holding one up. It has a big heart with a picture of me and Blitz.
So it was me.
One of the old contestants comes forward to take the flowers, and everyone backs off to the farthest reaches of the stage.
Our music begins, the song Blitz and I picked out. It could have been a song for a farewell dance, if all the fans out there had chosen to send me home. But they didn’t, and all the stars align in this one moment, me, Blitz, our dance, his show, this end.
As he takes me in his arms for the waltz, I know it isn’t an end at all. It’s just a continuation of what we already knew. That a shy, quiet girl with a love of ballet could fall for the wild, crazy host of a reality TV show.
And it could work.
It already has.
The Tempest
The Final Book of the Blitzed Series
By JJ Knight
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Summary:
When the adopted mother removes Livia’s ability to see her biological daughter, Livia’s life takes a dark turn that even her TV star boyfriend can’t seem to help. She is asked to join a private ballet company, raising the question — what is it that she has always wanted?
C
hapter 1
It's a long, long way down.
I wind my foot around the fluttering blue tail of silk. My hands grip the fabric like a lifeline. The highest cushioned mat is a solid ten-foot drop. If I miss it, it's another ten feet to the floor.
Blitz stands below, hands on his hips, looking up. He seems small, like an action figure rather than a man. His black hair shines and the sexy scruff on his face looks darker from up here.
Bex, our instructor, also watches me, her gaze occasionally shifting to the tall mats, as if she fears she might have to dash up the stairsteps of cushions to rescue me.
I'm attempting the biggest aerial silk drop I've ever done.
The other dancers in the gymnasium have paused to watch. They've gotten used to us being here, and the novelty of two reality TV dance show stars in their workout space has worn off. But this is new. I'm at the tip-top of the silks, swaying near the swivel hook, and I've hung out there too long.
“Do the twist and the turn like we practiced,” Bex calls up. “You're fine!”
Except I'm not fine. My arms are shaking even though I'm not putting any stress on them. I have a foot lock engaged, so it's like I'm standing on the ground.
As long as I can ignore that the ground is way, way down there.
Blitz and I have been working on this move for a couple months. We first learned it from our instructor in LA while we were still filming the last season of Dance Blitz. Then we picked it up again here, back in San Antonio. We don't plan to do any more television episodes, and aerial silk work is fairly impractical, mostly used by circuses and talent shows.
But we enjoy it.
Usually.
Currently, I'm not a fan.
“You've got this, Princess,” Blitz calls up. He's deadly calm. He has total faith. There isn't so much as a hint of concern on his face.