Six in the morning. Nine and a half hours, and yet, it's not enough sleep. Most people are refreshed, but I'm still so tired. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and I wait for GiaNina to get down before I stand up.
I look out the window. It's snowing! I tap GiaNina on the shoulder and point to the window.
"Your Mimi's with you. It's good luck," I whisper as we all race to the big window.
It's the really light snow that sticks to the trees. GiaNina's so excited. The light snow is what GiaNina calls, "Mimi Snow." We don't have a lot of time to look at the window. We have a competition to get to.
"I'm not gonna get kicked off the team. Try me any other day, but not when I'm dancing for my grandma," GiaNina says before turning around to meet up with her mom for something.
We all wear black pants, black boots, and a big black puffer jacket. The puffer jacket is a bit big on me, and I'm filled with joy. We get on the bus around seven o'clock, which is also when I take my Venlafaxine. When we get to the location, nobody's waiting for us. Maybe it's too cold.
The silence is so nice. Of course, after we grab our suitcases and bags, we go into the auditorium and there are a bunch of little kids screaming their hearts out. It's so loud. But I put on a smile and walk past them, smiling for the photos and videos.
We are very apprehensive around Brady's mom. But we have to show her that even though we may have been thrown under the bus for not being good enough, we can still pull it off and that we are good enough.
The moms are defending us and arguing about what Brady's mom said to us yesterday while we are given noise-cancelling headphones to block out the noise. I get that Brady's mom is mad, but don't take your anger on us. She deserves to take it out on you, Lilliana. You're not good enough. You're a horrible dancer.
Everything is muffled, but I can look and see what is happening. Brady and Sarah's moms are lashing out at each other. Brady seems done with his mom. Sarah, who did not have her headphones on, is trying to hide her pain.
I'm done with this arguing about who is gonna go. We've created an inseparable bond. I would do anything to save them. And I can't do anything but dance good to save Brady, and it breaks my heart. You're not a good dancer, Lilliana. You can't save Brady.
Ms. Abby wheels in right as the climax of the argument is over, a surprised look on her face when she hears Sarah's mom say, "Don't dismiss my daughter."
Ms. Abby just missed the third worst argument in the dressing room. Second was last week about Brady and how perfect he was. The first one was with Savannah and her butterfly solo. I go stretch in the corner while this plays in the corner.
As Ms. Abby attempts to intervene, the volume goes up again and I hastily cover my ears and my vision becomes hazy. We have to step it up. We are the cause of Brady going home. I feel horrible. Physically and emotionally. I have to finish stretching.
I watch as the moms are getting the four children into their solo costumes. Mom is contouring people's bodys, the other moms are doing makeup and headpieces and hair and costumes, and everything is a jumble.
"GiaNina, Hannah, you have a rematch. GiaNina, you're doing a lyrical piece-- what you said you needed to win. We gave you the turns, we gave you the jumps. We gave you all the emotion in the world you can bring to this piece. So I hope this is your 'it' dance or that is going to be the end of it," Ms. Abby tells GiaNina, who looks confident and definitely not worried that her ALDC career is at stake.
"Hannah, you're doing a jazz piece. It is about Gypsy Rose Lee. You need to portray that character on stage, and you can't let her beat you. Do you understand that?" Ms. Abby asked Hannah.
Hannah fully understood. She's torn. Should she save her friend or save her reputation? She's in a tough spot right now. A very tough spot.
"Brady, you're doing a contemporary ballet piece. This is your swan song. Make this dance something that everybody remembers. We have given you all the tools, so fly high. Everybody out!" Ms. Abby tells us as we rush out to find the auditorium side stage.
I wish everybody good luck before we start listening to the producers. Pressley's on first. I give Pressley a hug before she flinches away from me to listen for her. No hard feelings.
Pressley enters, carrying her ballet shoes over her left shoulder. There is a tire track on her face. Her hair is neatly in a bun, and she's wearing a white dress. Cars start to play. She jumps and runs around leaving the shoes behind as she falls as a car "hits her." Then she starts to dance to "When We Were Young" by the Rigs. She's shaky on one of her turn sequences, but everything else goes fine. Her happy expression that begins the piece followed by the pained realization that she never gets to experience love is shown on her face. She tells a story.
She walks off and we hug her. She did so well. But I don't know if the difficulty level is there compared to the other dances. We'll have to see.
"Up next, please help me welcome Brady with, 'Swan Song,'" the announcer announces as Brady steps on for his last solo at the ALDC.
A black triangle is on her forehead that goes up into a mohawk that is supposed to resemble a beak? Maybe? He has black leggings, and a bunch of black pieces of paper to resemble feathers are made into a sash and a collar. A modern version of the Swan Lake Song by the Tchaikovsky dude plays.
It's perfect. There isn't a real storyline. It's just a swan prancing around doing crazy leaps and leg extensions and keeping the same glare on their face for the entire time. If this doesn't win, the judges don't know what they're doing. Brady did amazing.
His serious face breaks into a smile as soon as he's hidden by the curtains. Sarah, Savannah, and I give him compliments and talk to him a bit before it's Hannah's turn. She looks nervous. This is nothing to what she's used to doing.
She grips the curtain and peers out with a sassy smile and then moves her head back behind the curtain for suspense.
"Faces, faces," I quickly remind her about making a sassy look. Brady playfully adds right before the music plays, "Get it!"
"Strip and Tease" by Laurence Cottle plays as Hannah peeks her head back out and begins to do her solo. Her face has gone back to sweet Hannah. I sigh. Now "You Don't Own Me" by Daniel Farrant and Paul Rawson plays as she arches up. She got her face back.
Her dancing is good, but the dance is A. Nothing like Gypsy Rose Lee and B. Doesn't show Hannah's true potential. Ms. Abby underestimates Hannah. She may be quiet, but she's a firecracker on stage. And she's using what she was given very well.
She moves off stage, jumping like a jackrabbit. I jump up and down, excited about what she just did on stage. She seemed like she had the most fun that she had in a while on stage. Good for her.
GiaNina is last. GiaNina needs to nail this. For Mimi, for her mom, for Ms. Abby, for her future. There is a lot at stake. She's on the edge of a panic attack, freaking out, as her name is called.
"Up next, please help me welcome GiaNina with, 'Snowflake'" the announcer calls out, and GiaNina quickly composes herself before walking out, looking perfect as usual.
She kneels down and bends forwards, her hands behind her back, smiling at the judges. "Time Has Passed" by Jenna Kearns plays and GiaNina rises back up to her knees and performs like she's never performed before. She looks so pained and emotional and she's so fluid and perfect. You'll never be perfect, Lilliana. You're the worst dancer on the team. It makes me cry from how beautiful it looks.
She walks off the stage and takes her first deep breath in a while. We all hug her and keep telling her how good she was. She really did well.
"You made me cry," I whisper to her and she starts crying tears of pain and joy.
I'm really happy for GiaNina and I feel like she did her best that she could have possibly done. I'm really proud of her. She had a big ultimatum, and she nailed the dance. Once the producers give us the all clear, we run back to the dressing room.
We whoop and cheer, happy with their performances. The soloists run to their moms, hugging them tightly. I run to my mom, sitting on her lap. The soloists did so well. They all competed in the 12-14 category, so we should have a clean sweep. Ms. Abby wheels in right after us.
"Good job guys. Brady? So easy, so effortless. I thought you were phenomenal. Hannah, I saw attitude. I saw a little sass. You exceeded my expectations. Pressley, you told a story with your face. I think your feet and legs could be better, but you definitely said, 'I am Resurrection Mary.' GiaNina, I told you that being a member of this team was on the line when I put your head on that chopping block, you stepped up. That shouldn't be the relationship. I shouldn't have to threaten you with going home to get you to be the best you can be," Ms. Abby tells the soloists.
"You'll never have to do that again," GiaNina promises Ms. Abby.
"Alright. I want these kids to get ready. Let's go," Ms. Abby orders us to get ready for the group dance before she leaves to talk to the producers.
It's a white tank top, white pants, and a clear belt. I feel so insecure about it. You look so fat in it, Lilliana. We all look in the mirror. All the other kids seem confident and bouncy. I bounce a bit, but I'm just masking my insecurities. I hate it.
Our hair is slicked back into ponytails and some real casual makeup is put on us with the exception of a red lip to make Brady stand out. We look like clouds with all the white. Brady's mom is very upset. Brady doesn't want to leave. We don't want him to leave. This is his last dance. We have to be perfect. For Brady.
As I'm going over the music again, Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna returns. She has one of those puffy red velvet crowns that the first Queen Elizabeth wore and a fake microphone on a stand to act as her sceptre. We all gather in a corner.
"The queen is here!" she announces, wheeling to face us.
Brady joins us. He has heavy, heavy eyeliner and a black belt on. He looks sad.
Ms. Abby continues, "All right. Everybody has to pull their weight in the group. Yes. Is it about Freddie Mercury? Yes. Are all eyes gonna be on him? Not mine. Girls, Brady's leaving. He's not gonna be here next week. You need to go out there and step on the stage like you own it."
You're too weak and fat to own it. You can't even do addition right sometimes. Who thinks that you're gonna be able to lead a dance. Ms. Abby quickly hands Brady the microphone as his prop before ordering us to go to the side stage. The camera catches a couple shots of us in a V formation, looking fierce and confident. It's kind of funny, considering I'm holding my stuffed llama behind my back. But, to be honest, despite what the voices were telling me, I am confident.
We goof around with the cameraman on the side stage while we wait for half an hour for our dance to be called. Why did Ms. Abby make us come here this early? Brady goes around to the other side of the stage. He looks upset.
Our number is called. I'm going to be dancing to "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions" by Queen. For a competition dance. Wow. We make sure we are in the right order and formation before the music starts.
"We Will Rock You" starts first. It's upbeat, has a big drum attached to it. We are very sharp and Brady even does some tumbling. But at one point, I literally am the wrong way in the dance. You stupid bitch, Lilliana. Brady shouldn't go. You should. You can't even face the right way. I have to keep going. I'm glad I'm in the back because I'm so short.
The music shifts into "We Are The Champions." It's a lot more emotional, so the dance turns into a more contemporary-like dance. We're lost and yet so hopeful at the same time. Other than my slip-up, everything else goes fine. But this is like the third or fourth time I've messed up in a group routine. We walk off the stage. Brady takes an extra bow before heading off the stage in my direction.
I think this is one of my favorite group dances we've ever done, but backstage, everyone is really nervous. Are we gonna win? Are we gonna lose? Who knows? It's Brady's last week here, and it shouldn't be, like, the last week Brady's here, we lose. The rest of the kids drink some juice while we wait for the awards, but I opt for the safer option: water. It's so tasteless, yet the only thing that doesn't make me feel like I'm gonna puke.
When it's time for awards, we sit in the front right next to the blaring box lights so we look pretty for the camera. You're never pretty, Lilliana. I sit on the end next to Sarah. I'm praying that we win.
We're starting with the 12-14 solos. That's Brady's, GiaNina's, Hannah's, and Pressley's category. Hannah, as much as I love her, needs to get lower than GiaNina. I can't have two family members leaving the team at once. Tenth was this girl named Claire with, "Feel It Still." She was the girl that danced to that song by that Portugal man. She was good. Ninth isn't us. Eighth isn't us.
"Seventh overall... Hannah, 'Tainted Rose,'" the announcer calls out from the microphone.
Seventh? She deserved higher than that. Hannah, defeated, stands up and receives her awards graciously. She seems like she's about to burst into tears. She's probably terrified of what Ms. Abby is gonna say. Sarah shifts over to where Hannah sat.
Sixth isn't us. Fifth isn't us. Fourth isn't us. Pressley got third with her Resurrection Mary solo. It was really good. GiaNina and Brady have to place second and first. It's critical for them to get second and first.
"Your second place 12-14 soloist, Brady with 'Swan Song,'" the announcer announces.
I feel bad for Brady. It's his last week, and he got second? If Brady got second, does that mean GiaNina did not place at all? Oh my God, she's not placing. And she's gonna be sent home. She grips my hands tight, afraid and praying.
"Your first place 12-14 soloist... GiaNina with 'Snowflake!'" the announcer yells, and GiaNina's face lights up.
She won. She won for Ms. Abby. She won for her grandma. She got redemption. I clap loud, and smile big. She needed this win. She beat the unbeatable girl that was too good for us. Brady pulls her into a side hug, smiling big. He's so happy for her. That's true sportsmanship.
She's still shocked as we wait for another hour until the group dances are called, water bottles passed out. I don't touch mine. I'm not really thirsty anyway.
"Moving on to 9-11 small groups. Third place, 'Nicest Kids In Town,'" the announcer says into the mic.
Second is this dance called, "I Got That." Our number isn't called. Did we even place? Uh oh. We could be in big trouble. I clasp my teammates hands and bite my lip anxiously.
"And in first place, Kings of Queens!" the announcer calls out.
We get up, jumping up and down, accepting our awards. I'm so happy, and so tuckered out. I hate and love competition days. Brady doesn't seem mad that he lost when we walk off. He understands that it's the judges opinion, and it's what they like that day. I don't even think like that. When I lose, I immediately think I messed up somewhere and I'm a failure to the ALDC.
I grip my stuffed llama in my arms as we wait for the all clear from the producers. I try to socialize, but I don't have the stamina the older kids have to be energetic all the time, especially when it's not important for the cameras, and when you have a 24/7 bully in your head.
I hear Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna bickering with someone, but I'm too tired to care. We all sit against the wall, and I hesitantly rest my head on Hannah's shoulder. She allows it, and I'm grateful. I manage to stay awake, but I feel like my eyelids are gonna close at any second.
Suddenly, Ms. Abby zooms by us and goes to the judges table to get something like a program.
"Oh my God," I say in realization. "Ms. Abby is trying to change the scores so Brady can win."
We all laugh. No way is she going to change the scores. This is the new Ms. Abby. Sure, she may still say some mean stuff to me that she said in the past and she may still have tough love, but she wouldn't want to sabotage another dancer from her own team, right?
We run back to the dressing room and hug our moms. We're so happy. But I can't stop thinking about the fact that I messed up in the dance. I have to hide my discontentment.
"Congratulations!" Ms. Abby shouts.
Ms. Abby starts talking about the placements and the group dance, "GiaNina, you were the first overall high score solo. Congratulations, that was great. Her challenge was to beat Hannah, and she beat her bad."
"She beat Brady," Ms. Paolantonio adds.
"Brady, you did outstanding today. And I don't want to take anything from GiaNina's win because she should be thrilled and she should wallow in it, but I did a little questioning. Guess where that male judge was from? Miami. How about them apples?" Ms. Abby announces.
Is she really going to just not accept Brady didn't win? Like, Brady even accepts that he didn't win the competition. She just wants GiaNina to fail. She wants GiaNina to feel less accomplished with a solo dedicated to her grandmother. That's sick.
"So the male judge gave Brady less points than Gia because he's from Miami?" GiaNina's mom asks. "I just don't understand why we don't just celebrate who wins. You're the sore loser, not us."
"I'm not a sore loser. I could care less," Ms. Abby defends herself. So she doesn't care about us? Nobody cares about you, Lilliana. You're a piece of trash.
"If you didn't care we wouldn't be sitting here talking about it," GiaNina's mom argues back. GiaNina looks defeated.
"I think Gia, that you really deserved that win and I think you needed it," Brady compliments, making Gia light up again.
"That's it. There you go. The group routine won the overall high score. Brady was portraying Freddie Mercury. I thought your faces were great," Ms. Abby compliments.
"I'm really sad that I'm going home. But I think the lesson that will be learned is that you can never break up a team, like it happened with Queen. They broke up. But they got back together. I hope that we all are a team again," Brady says.
"I'm not ruling it out. The girls have to prove themselves first," Ms. Abby announces.
There's still hope. The producers call over Mom and the kids are called out of the dressing room. Ms. Abby didn't point out my mistake. What is this sorcery?
We hear muffled yelling and then a big thud. We all look at each other with concern. What the hell happened in there? The moms leave and we rush back in. Cake.
We run to the cake. It's on the floor, but it doesn't stop the other kids from eating it. I hang back. It's gross, and nobody can blame me. I pretend to eat some frosting, putting it all over my fingers, but once we are all done with the cake, we all rush to the bathroom to wash our hands. I vigorously rub my hands, almost too vigorously wanting the disgustingly sweet and edible goop off my hands. I can't eat it.
"That was so gross. You guys ate floor cake," I comment, and they all giggle.
Once we are done washing our hands, a couple custodians are cleaning up the cake and we grab our things and get back on the bus. We're spending an extra night at the hotel. I sit next to Brady, letting him take the window seat. Ms. Abby looks annoyed. She totally thinks Brady should've won.
The bus ride is short because the hotel is like, thirty minutes away. We immediately collapse on the beds, exhausted from the cameras being on us for ten hours. By the time it's bed, It's nine o'clock and I lay in bed. My stomach is in immense pain. I'm gonna need to find a way to ease into this. I went into this whole anorexic thing too hard.
I look up, "how to ease into anorexia." If Mom ever checked my search history, she would definitely be alarmed. Immediately, phone numbers for helplines popped up. I don't need help fighting this, I need help becoming pretty.
After I type in, "diet for anorexia," I find a 49 day diet that starts with 500 calories and works its way to 150 calories. I think this may be the answer. Tomorrow's calorie limit: 500 calories or less. This will work, Lilliana. You will become perfect if you follow this.
~~~~~