So You Think You Can Dance?

Final Four

"And have fun," Carmen added. "This could be the last time that you dance with these people. Cherish each moment, even if you don't get along with everyone in the cast." She shot a look at Alice. "I'm proud of you and I shouldn't say this, but you guys are my favorite cast."

"I'm in agreement," Alistair nodded. "Now, you've all been assigned a studio for your dressing rooms. Jacob and Jasper, you're on the second floor in rooms eleven and twelve. Alice, you're in room three and Bella, you're in six."

"Six is my lucky number," Alice said, jutting out her chin.

"Well, you're in three and we're not changing it," Alistair replied. "The costumes and such are in each room." He glared at her before smiling at the rest of us. "I wish you all the best of luck."

They left and we got up off the stage. I was stiff, walking offstage. Jacob dropped off my duffel into my dressing room. He hugged me before darting away. I sat down on the makeup chair and took out some ibuprofen, swallowed it with some water. Bea came in and she attacked my hair, wrapping it into hot rollers. While my hair was being curled, Bea put on the makeup for the first performance. It was a Broadway number with the All-Stars, dancing to the Act One opening to Smoky Joe's Café.

Deep breaths, Swan. Enjoy the day and ignore the pain ...

xx SYTYCD xx

EPOV

"Could you put any more shellac in my hair?" I grumbled as Peter was perfecting my hair. "This is going to take at least ten shampoos to get out."

"It was the style. Besides, the main hair and makeup artists are working on the contestants. You're stuck with me," he said, his tongue sticking out as he pushed the front of my hair forward. "You look like you stepped out of the show, Mad Men. It's hot."

"It's gross," I said, touching my head and grimacing at how stiff it felt. "You're not doing my face, too? I can do that myself."

"Damn! I wanted to put lipstick on those perfectly pouty lips," Peter frowned.

"You stay away," I snorted, picking up some foundation and making quick work of applying the makeup. This is sooooo wrong. The fact that I know what to do with this shit, it's surreal. Peter danced away and went to help Benji with his hair, plus flirt with him. Peter may be in a committed relationship, but he was a notorious flirt, completely harmless.

Once my makeup was applied, I dressed in my costume. Lauren handed her phone to Peter to get a picture of the All-Stars before the performance finale. Lauren was on Benji's back while I dipped Jasmine. Giggling, she posted it on her Instagram page, tagging all of us. Peter immediately posted a comment about the amount of shellac in my hair, promising to help me mess it up. I smacked him. "You're an idiot."

"I'm a flirt and you love me," he giggled.

"I love you, but you're still an idiot," I deadpanned. "The only one messing up my hair is Bella, thank you very much."

"How is she?" Lauren asked as she touched up her bright red lipstick. "I heard her fall from the back of the stage and it sounded bad."

"She's got a minor sprain of her wrist and her knee is definitely weakened. The doctor gave her a cortisone shot, with studio approval," I replied. "But, she will need some time to recuperate after all of this. She needs to rest."

"This competition is brutal. It's so taxing on the body. We all needed rest after the show," Lauren said. "Especially if you make it this far. You know?"

"Right," Benji nodded. "All of us can attest that. We're all a part of the final four for our respective seasons. We feel their pain."

"And then some," Jasmine sighed. "I had this awesome routine with Comfort with the bikes. It was a cool piece, but the day before, like Bella, I took a tumble off the bike and ended up jacking up my ankle. Having to dance with a stress fracture was not my idea of fun."