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.
Blitz and I are separated so I can be waxed, polished, manicured, and coiffed. The makeup girl is new. This team isn’t the Dance Blitz crew. Shelly helps supervise and coordinate since I don’t have a manager. I wish I had a way to get Jessie here, but I only ever see her on the set.
The blue crystal dress is delivered and I’m fitted into it six times with different undergarments. There’s talk about my hips being too bony, my boobs too flat. Some want more butt, others want more cleavage. I become an object rather than a person. They try push-up bras, stick-on bras, no bra. Then thong underwear, ruffly underwear, and some spandex thing that makes me feel stuck in a chute.
Apparently I have no say in any of it. My hair is curled into elaborate spirals. My makeup is the most dramatic I’ve ever seen it. Bright coral lipstick, winged eyeliner. My cheekbones have never been so prominent.
Almost no one talks directly to me. I’m like a mannequin or a doll. I long for Blitz. Jessie. Cecilia. Even Hannah would be an improvement. As soon as I think that, I know I’ve gone around a bend.
Blitz is whisked away well before I’m done. He comes in to kiss me and say he’ll see me at the premiere. I want to ask if he has to go see the other finalists, but I’m afraid of the answer, so I don’t.
The process is tedious, and embarrassing, having total strangers applying wax to places I don’t understand why they are messing with. My gown is full length with a train. I’m not exactly going to be flashing my bikini area.
But finally, as mid-afternoon comes around, they pronounce me ready.
I get my shoes last, deadly stilettos so high as to feel like I’m en pointe. The heels are tiny, like a spit for the barbecue. They are silver and gleam with sparkle, an exact match for my toes and fingers.
I stumble twice trying to cross the living room, and the woman in charge relents and carefully rolls my dress and fastens it with pins. I’m allowed to slip off the shoes and put on pretty silver ballet flats for the ride only.
The chef sends up a salad with thin crackers and a vitamin drink to get me through the evening. I suck it down greedily, not having eaten since this crew arrived, but halfway through the water, one of the women shakes her head and takes it from me. “Go pee out what you can,” she says. “Or we’ll have to put the spandex on you.”
I hurry for the bathroom, very much not thrilled when one of the women follows me in to ensure the safety of the dress while I pee. When I wash my hands, she holds a towel in front of my belly to avoid splashing it.
“Why is this such a big deal?” I ask.
“This dress is on loan,” she says. “You cannot damage it.”
“If I damage it, I’ll just buy it.” Money has started hitting my own account.
“One hundred and twenty thousand dollars?” she says.
Um, okay. Never mind. I look down at the dress. It is worth more than my parents’ house.
I realize for the first time I have zero jewelry to wear. I wonder if that will be noticed, and why none was borrowed if they were going to go to the trouble to get a dress on loan.
We walk back out to the living room. Most of the crew has packed up. Out front, a limo waits.
Now that all the prep is done, I feel very much alone. I have no one to talk to, and I imagine having to arrive in the limo by myself, facing the cameras and fans and reporters without anyone directing me. Panic flits through my body. What if Blitz is already there posing with Mariah or Christy or Giselle? Do I walk up and do the same?
A driver in a black suit and hat stands by the door. I nod at him as he opens it. I feel like I’m driving to my doom. This might as well be a hearse.
But when I lean in, I see him.
Blitz.
I let out a small cry and lunge for him. “You’re here!”
He wraps his arms around me, careful not to disturb my makeup or the dress. “Of course I am,” he says. “You didn’t think I was going to send you out there by yourself, did you?”
I settle beside him on the seat. “I wasn’t sure.”
The woman who had directed the crew of people comes inside the limo. Blitz nods at her. “Hey, Steena,” he says. “I figured you’d be doing Giselle.”
“Giselle brought her own staff for this event,” Steena says with a sniff. “No telling how she’ll turn out.”
Blitz turns to me. “You look devastatingly beautiful. Your picture is going to be everywhere tomorrow.”
“Our picture,” I say. I realize he’s holding a box in his lap. “What is that?”
“For you,” he says. “They were going to get something on loan, but I decided I wanted to buy you something special.”
I look around. There is no camera crew here. He’s not doing this for effect, for an audience. It’s just us.
He passes me the box.
I open it and suck in a breath. It’s a necklace, all diamonds, like little leaves in a perfect circle.
“I got it approved for your dress,” he says. “Kendra said it was fine.”
I can’t stop looking at it. “Blitz, this is crazy.”
“We should indulge in a thing or two before we settle down to ordinary life,” he says. “We probably won’t have much occasion to dress like this once the show is over.”
He lifts the necklace from the box and unclasps it. “May I?”
I nod and turn away from him.
His fingers slide across my skin and the diamonds lay cool and heavy against my collarbone. After he fastens it, he presses a kiss into the back of my neck. “Like it?”
“It’s breathtaking,” I say, touching it with my fingertips.
“Just like the ballerina who wears it.”
I turn back to him. “I’m so nervous,” I confess. “But I’m better now that you’re here.”
He tucks my arm inside his elbow. “This is great fun. The limo will pull up, we’ll get out, and there will be outrageous cheering, a lot like the DVD signing.”
“Will girls show their boobs?”
He laughs. “I doubt it. We’ll be in front of a big sign advertising the show, and they’ll want pictures of us together. Then probably apart.” He squeezes my arm. “That’s normal, even with married couples. They like to have individual shots for the fashion people.”
“Okay,” I say. “Then what?”
“We’ll walk down a ways, and there will be a reporter who interviews us. Again, together and possibly also separate.”
“What about the other girls?”
“Usually they spread us out,” he says. “But due to the competition and the drama, you never know.”
“We’re making our approach,” Steena says.
“Where are Devon and the rest?” I ask.
“Already there,” Blitz says. “We’ll be the last to arrive. The big finale.”
I take a deep breath.
Steena passes me the stilettos and I slip the ballet flats off and put the other shoes on. Then she comes behind me to release the dress from the pins. “Be careful in this,” she says. Her voice is kinder now. Maybe she was anxious earlier too. Maybe seeing how Blitz treats me changed her mind about who I was.
She scoots down the long seat to the very front near the driver so she isn’t accidentally caught by the cameras as they snap us coming out.
“I’ll get out first,” Blitz says. “Then I’ll turn and reach for you.”
“Got it,” I say. Another deep breath.
“This is easy,” Blitz says. “I actually have fun at these things.”
The limo rolls to a stop. I hear cheers as the door swings open. I can see bodyguards on either side of the carpet.
Then Duke peers in. He’s pretty cleaned up in a black suit. “Don’t fall on your face, bro,” he says.
Blitz shakes his head. “Don’t trip me.”
Duke steps aside and Blitz exits the car. The roar of the crowd is tremendous and flashes pop like crazy. He turns for me. “Ready?” he mouths.
I step carefully across the floor and bend down to emerge from the car. When I appear, the cameras go crazy all over again.
Holy cow, I’m here.