Chapter 31
The second live show is similar to the first. There is a different feel to it, though, since we know someone has been eliminated, and her dance tonight will be for nothing, since the votes won’t count after she’s gone.
Someone will be going home.
I almost hope it’s me at this point. After the hidden camera, and the luncheon gaffe, I’m pretty sure I’m not cut out for this game.
But my pointe looks good. I’ve improved faster than I would have at home, motivated by the demands of the show.
Our set is very simple, just a few white pillars. My costume is extremely stiff, not just the pancake tutu, but the bodice. It doesn’t really move with me, but around me. I wonder if regular ballerinas have outfits like this and have to manage. I could have used pointers from a professional, but it’s too late now.
I dread the moment when my lunch comment goes live. Nobody’s seen the clips. No one’s talked about it. The public doesn’t know, since only staff and paid extras were in the cafe.
I feel sick to my stomach as I head through the backstage to do my dance with Blitz. I’m later in the lineup this time, third instead of first, so I’ll have to go out alone and wait for him and his costume change.
I’ve kept my screen off in my room, hoping I miss seeing myself be vulgar, as my dad would call it. God, I hope now that they are avoiding the show. Have people at church seen it and asked how such a quiet sweet girl got here?
I feel like I can never talk to them again after this.
Blitz says I was baited to say it. That Giselle was probably instructed to get me to say something trampy to increase the raunch level of the show, because that was the expectation of the viewers. He’d done way worse.
But he is a man, and the fact is, he doesn’t feel the stab of being called a slut. Even Giselle seems to want that image and lets it roll right off her. But I don’t.
The show goes to commercial and I head out onstage. My dance starts as a solo with me on the ground, lost and alone until Blitz comes along. I like the music very much, and I think the story of the dance is beautiful and true.
But I’m full of anxiety about the clip. I pray they don’t play it while I’m out there waiting. They didn’t show anything during rehearsal, as one of the monitors wasn’t working, causing a tech panic.
I can really only listen, as my head is down. There’s a little clip from last week’s dance, I know that by the music. And Blitz’s princess line from our castle date.
Then Blitz saying, “You’ll captivate every viewer out there.”
I have to glance up at that. It’s the footage from the dressing room. It looks really good for being behind that two-way mirror. But it still makes me burn. At least they can’t use that camera anymore. It’s covered now.
The screen shifts to the dance background, and I drop my head again, relieved they didn’t run the lunch footage.
The music begins. I start the dance, unfolding like a flower around the difficult tutu. I go up on pointe, slowly, carefully, and the audience claps.
Then Blitz is there, taking my hand, and I turn uncertainly to him.
We dance gently, then with growing certainty, until I go into one heck of a dizzying spin. The studio audience is roaring with approval now.
Then our dramatic end pose, and freeze.
“Perfect,” Blitz whispers.
We head over to Barry. If the show goes on the way the first one did, a chit chat interview then on to the next contestant, I’m in the clear. Maybe they decided my quote was too bad for television. This makes me smile.
“Somebody looks happy about that performance!” Barry says.
“She was amazing, wasn’t she?” Blitz asks the crowd. They scream and cheer in response. “Are you voting yet?” More noise.
“Do you feel things are going well between you two?” Barry asks me.
“Perfectly,” I say. “He’s an amazing partner.”
“Well, you two looked great,” Barry says.
We exit to the back. I let out a long breath. No mention of the clip. Now there is just Giselle’s dance and the elimination. Then someone will slow dance as a farewell.
Rather than making us all change, which would be very hard for Giselle, since her dance and the elimination are back to back, we are to stay in our costumes for this one. I wait backstage with Jessie. Mariah and Christy, who have already danced, are also in the wings.
Giselle passes, wearing a red and black dress that looks like a rose. They must be doing a tango, which would make sense for them. That was always their dance.
Jessie comes up beside me. “You were great!” she whispers.
I nod and watch the stage. Our order isn’t as much about strategy on voting as Blitz’s outfits and how much change needs to happen. He rushes back by in black satin pants and a matching shirt. He carries a rose.
They are good. I wouldn’t call their dance extraordinary. But clearly it is a crowd pleaser, as the audience hoots and cheers for every dramatic turn. When it ends, Giselle and Blitz head over to Barry.
A girl motions to me, and I follow Christy and Mariah to the edge of the stage. We don’t go out until the commercial.
Barry announces the break and we three girls walk forward.
Blitz takes a long pull of water as he heads to center stage. I don’t know how he does so many dances in a row. He must run on pure adrenaline.
The crew rapidly removes the tango set.
The four girls line up together and hold hands like we were instructed during practice. I’m between Christy and Mariah.
It’s strange and intimate, holding their hands. I’m just glad I’m not near Giselle.
Blitz passes his water to a crew member and they rush off.
The lights come back up. Barry says, “And now it’s time for one of these lovely ladies to go home.”
The crowd makes a collective “awwww” sound.
“Your votes have been tallied from last week. First we are going to announce the two girls who led the numbers.” He opens an envelope. “These girls will definitely be back next week. Mariah and Giselle.”
My face burns a little. So I’m not a fan favorite after all. If what Barry says is even true. Who knows? This is television.
Mariah and Giselle hug each other and move closer to Blitz.
Barry looks over all of us with a dramatic pause. “And the third girl who gets to stay another week is…”
Another pause. A musical pulse plays in the silence, like a heartbeat.
“Livia Mays!”
I let out a breath and hug Christy. Then I step over next to Mariah and Giselle.
Christy starts crying. Blitz comes up to her and brushes a tear off her cheek.
Barry says, “That means Christy will not be back on Dance Blitz. She and Blitz Craven will do their final dance together tonight for all of her fans.”
Mariah, Giselle, and I head offstage. We’re done for the night.
I turn to watch Christy dance with Blitz. It’s nothing fancy, just a tight slow dance. She is crying hard. Blitz pats her back and pays close attention, murmuring things in her ear.
“Another week, another paycheck,” Giselle says as she passes by me to head to the hall. “Expect next week to get a lot crazier.”
Now that the show is over, I’m dying to know if they aired the lunch clip. I follow Mariah out into the hall.
“Did they show the lunch footage?” I ask her. “I couldn’t bear to watch.”
“Yeah,” she says. “They showed Giselle’s meltdown. It was all geared to make her look dramatic. She’s getting a lot of airtime.”
“She makes good Tweets,” I say, then bite my lip as I realize I’ve made a gaffe. Blitz’s Tweet is what got us in this whole mess.
Mariah shrugs. “I’m just glad they kept me in a good light. I’m not after a career in television. Just dance.”
“You were really great in rehearsal with that instructor. You two are an amazing fit.”
She pauses at that, looking thoughtful. “Yes, it does seem easier with him. But he’s not a career-maker. Blitz is.”
“So that’s all they did of the lunch?” I ask.
“If you’re worried about what you said, it’s probably too much for television. But I expect if ratings aren’t up this week, it will get leaked.”
This shocks me. “Who would leak it?”
“Oh, they have their ways,” Mariah says. “Have a good night.” She heads off for her dressing room.
Cast and crew start streaming out of the backstage, so I know the show is over. I head to my own room to get out of the makeup and this darned tutu.