My new, deeper blue dress arrives the next day. Blitz’s tux gets fitted.
New sky writing doesn’t appear until afternoon. We hear about it from the staff.
Cecilia shows me the image on her phone. “It’s that Giselle all right,” she says.
This time it’s a pig.
“They’re getting fancier,” another stylist says.
“Do they think Blitz will kiss the sky?” the wardrobe girl asks.
Blitz kissed a pig at a rodeo during the weeks he tried to repair his reputation after the bad tweet about Giselle.
I sit down to let Cecilia do a practice set on my hair. We have full dress rehearsal today.
“What do you think she wants?” I ask.
“She feels herself sinking into nothing,” Cecilia says. “She wants to stay in the spotlight, no matter what it takes.”
“The entertainment shows have caught on,” says another girl. “They’re all including the sky drawings in their segments on the upcoming finale.”
“Great,” Cecilia says. “Has Giselle spoken up?”
“She’s acting all innocent,” the girl says. “Insists it must be her fans.”
“Ha, like anybody even remembers her,” Cecilia says.
I shift on the chair. This whole situation makes me anxious.
But the day moves on. Blitz and I land all the lifts in the rehearsal, our last one since it’s more critical that the finalists have the practice rooms and the attention of the trainers. This is all old hat and nobody’s judging us.
I meet Beth Ann, the ballerina finalist. We’re filmed practicing together in ballet gear, and I give her a few pointers. I want to apologize after, as she’s been dancing since she was six years old. I’m only a few years into my own training.
But she’s a sweet girl, probably too gentle for the debacle that is reality TV. I sort of hope she wins over Dolly or Veronica, although I’m not sure I wish this life on someone genuinely nice like her.
Devon likes our banter so well that he schedules some quick spots with me and the other two finalists for optional footage should they need the time during the live show. After Giselle trounced off stage during our broadcast, creating a panic, they’ve learned to be prepared to insert emergency video clips.
I’m still not comfortable on camera, and the conversations with Dolly and Veronica are stilted and false. I doubt they’ll get used.
The sky writing stops, and the day of the live show finally arrives. I start to breathe a little easier. I’m only involved in maybe five minutes of the entire hour, and then all this will be over.
We have to be at the studio ridiculously early for final rehearsals and wardrobe. Cecilia gives me a divine hairstyle reminiscent of my own season, a braided princess crown with a long fall of curls in the back.
Every time Blitz and I practiced the proposal, we made Devon sweat by changing it up. It’s been a little joke between us to never do it quite the way the staff expects it. When Blitz and I are alone, we justify this because they’re making us do this publicly when we already did it for ourselves.
A scant two hours prior to the live show, Hannah enters with a ring box. It seems my real ring, the one Blitz picked out for me, isn’t showy enough for the producers. They’re insisting Blitz propose with a ridiculous seventeen-carat princess diamond surrounded with pale blue stones to match my dress.
Blitz loses his mind, threatening to walk off the show entirely.
It’s Mack who takes him aside and convinces him to follow along for now. After tonight, we’re free of the show, and besides, the ring is just on loan. It’s not like I have to wear it forever.
But even after the pep talk, Blitz has a gleam in his eye that I recognize. It’s what prompted me to walk onto his own show finale two years ago. He’s going to do something crazy.
So now I’m nervous.
He goes on stage for his dance with Mack. I watch it live from the wings, then head back to the dressing room to see the footage of Mack and Blitz talking about Mack’s decision.
The swan girls are all inside, sitting on every surface, faces turned to the monitor.
“Livia!” they chorus when they see me.
One scoots over on a bench to make room. “Blitz is telling Mack to choose for love,” she says, shifting her feathery headpiece. “It’s so romantic.”
I peer at the screen. The two of them are in the decision room. Photographs of Beth Ann, Dolly, and Veronica sit on a shelf.
“They totally stole that from The Bachelor,” another girl says.
“Duh,” comes from behind. “They’ve done it since the first season.”
“Of both,” someone else says.
I try to focus on the screen. Mack turns to Blitz. “I hear something special is happening for you tonight, bro!”
Blitz shrugs. “It’s about time.”
“You really going to propose right here on the show?”
“You know it!”
They clasp each other with a pound on the back.
Mack says in Blitz’s ear, “Don’t blow it.”
I know he means not just the proposal, but the show itself. He knows how angry Blitz is about the whole thing.
They break for a commercial.
The door opens. Amara gestures for the swans to come out. “Positions, ladies!” she says.
They all scurry from the room. Amara glances at me. “I would go warm up with Vince,” she says. “Your dance is in approximately fifteen minutes.”
I nod. It will be more like thirty. The show has barely started. But it does go fast. I remember.
I stand up and turn to the mirror. My blue dress is brilliant and sparkles in the lights.
Sometimes when I’m all fixed up for a show or a publicity appearance, I see the new, more confident Livia. The one who charged onto a TV stage. Who left her parents’ iron grip and made a life for herself. Who tried out and earned a spot in a national ballet tour.
I’ve held on to Blitz under incredible pressure that might have crushed a different couple.
But I lean in, and I know who is still there. Shy Livia. Scared Livia. The Livia who was told she was the shame of her family. The Livia who was locked in her home, unable to go anywhere. Who gambled on her first love and lost hard.
The Livia who gave up her baby for adoption.
Who didn’t fight.
My eyes go wet, threatening my makeup. Cecilia and the staff will kill me if it isn’t right.
I stand up straight. This is no time for thinking about the past. It’s now, and Blitz is about to propose on camera. We’ll get to share the thing we’ve kept to ourselves for months.
We’re getting married.
I think ahead to the cruise. A private, exclusive boat. A few carefully chosen friends and family. No cameras. No interviews. No screaming fans.
Just us.
All I have to do to get there, is make it through the next half hour.