Sing •Ricky Wilson•

Chapter Thirteen • The Battle Rounds

The Battle Rounds went surprisingly smoothly. My expectations of hating to work alongside Michelle were shattered when I realized she was actually a nice person. Well, she was still a little bitchy occasionally but it wasn't anything too unbearable. We worked through a few sessions of craziness and stripped the song down to a polished and pleasant version.

No one had managed to grass on me and Ricky yet. Besides Stevie and Michelle, the others had started to suggest a romantic tension between us during rehearsals. We very nearly got caught when we were making out behind the piano and Trisha and Ben opened the door. But we quickly diverted to separate areas of the room before they entered.

On the night of the event, I snook past security in my comfy white playsuit and black heels to Ricky's dressing room. Without even knocking I opened the door and saw him trying eagerly to select an outfit of his own, dressed already in a casual cream-colored top and grey sweatpants. I shut the door quickly and grinned as he turned around, clutching one of his customary waistcoats.
"Angela?" He said, slightly confused.
"Hiya. Just wanted to drop by before the show starts to tell you something." I answered.
He raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"It's just that... If Michelle sings better than me... You have to send me home."
He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "If she clearly wins the battle I want you to keep her on your team, okay? However, it also works the other way. If I sing better, send me through." I sighed. "What I'm saying is - be honest with your decision. I don't care if I go home. To be honest, it would kinda speed up this whole..." I gestured with my hands wildly. "Whatever this is, that's going on between us. I mean, wouldn't that be what we've wanted?" I continued.
He paused for a moment. "No."
"Huh?"
"Well, obviously, I want to be with you. But I need to focus on the competition right now. So I'll put the better singer through. Don't worry." He said. I nodded.
"Okay." I sighed, taking a breath of relief. He eyed me up and down and moved closer.
"I like your outfit." He said with a smirk. "But... It could do with a few adjustments..."
He slid his hand up to the zip on the back of my playsuit. He was about to pull down when I pushed my back against the door and stopped him.
"Not a chance." I declared, laughing.
He rolled his eyes. "After the show?" He asked, the hope in his tone causing a smile to form.
"Nah." I replied, opening the door.
"Where are you off to? It's a while till filming." He acknowledged.
"Hm, well, I better get going. Leave you to get ready." I said, placing my hand on his chest and tugging at his clothing playfully.
"Help me get changed, then." He said, trying to pull me inside.
"No, Ricky," I answered. "I'm not supposed to be here anyway. We'll get caught."
"We will if we stay standing out in the open. Just come in for a bit and sit on the sofa while I choose an outfit." He pleaded, tilting his head to one side and pouting.
I groaned. "Fine. For five minutes tops." I muttered.

So I lounged on the beige couch, tucking my legs underneath me, watching Ricky wander left and right along the side of the metal clothing rack.
"What am I gonna wear?" He moaned, shifting through his endless amount of blazers and shirts.
"Don't you have stylists and things to choose for you?" I asked him.
"No, I prefer to do it manually." He replied, thrusting up his arm and flexing with a flashy grin. I rolled my eyes and laughed.
"Alright then..." I wiggled around in my seat. "Wear that white shirt, with that grey waistcoat." I advised, pointing at the selected clothing. He drew them out and nodded. "And them, too." I added, gesturing towards a pair of grey trousers. He collected his outfit together along with some white converse-like shoes, and suddenly began to remove his top casually. I raised my eyebrows at his assertiveness and covered my eyes with my hand. Through the gaps between my fingers, I saw him starting to tug on the hem of his sweatpants.
"Oh, my god." I muttered and buried my head into the back of the sofa."I can't believe it..." He sung, laughing. I laughed lightly and a minute later he announced, "Okay, you can look now."