"Lilly, wake up," Pressley yells and I fall off the bed in surprise.
There's a bout of silence before we burst out into tired laughter. I rub my arm a bit. Nothing hurts bad.
"Your mom wants to do your hair and makeup ahead of the competition. My mom's coming over to keep me company. Put on this outfit and go to room 207," Pressley continues and tosses me the pink outfit.
"Thanks," I say before going to the bathroom to change.
I take off the band-aid and see it healed nicely overnight. I add foundation and setting powder to my wrists, and I add some blue eyeshadow to create the vein again. I put on the pink hoodie and black leggings. I look at myself in the mirror. At least it covers everything. I don't know what my costume looks like though for my solo. You're going to be the fattest kid on stage, Lilliana. Everybody else is so skinny, and you're not.
I brush out my hair and I exit the bathroom. I quickly double-check my bag to make sure I have everything that I brought. I give Pressley a big hug and I see Ms. Ashley enter the room. We exchange a quick hello before I go across the hall to my Mom's room. I knock on the door and Mom answers the door. I guess she roomed with Ms. Ashley because I see Pressley's leotard on the chair.
Mom makes me sit down on the chair and pulls my hair back tightly into a bun with a lot of hair gel. Then she adds this pink crystal headpiece that is kinda like the cap from my trio, but nothing sticking out from it, and it's a lot more octopus-looking. The headpiece makes your head look wider than it already is, Lilliana.
I then do my makeup, which consists of heavy contour and a bright pink matte lip that almost makes my lips look red. Once that's over, Mom and I head to the lobby where Hannah and Ms. Ann are waiting.
"That's so cool!" Hannah exclaims as she notices my headpiece.
"I heard Studio 19 is going to be right up front and center when we arrive," Ms. Ann reveals and I laugh a bit.
"We're gonna beat them. No problem," I lie through my teeth.
Truth be told, I'm pretty nervous. Studio 19 is good. Studio 19 is better than you, Lilliana. They're gonna beat your ass. Brady and Gia's solos are so much better than yours.
"Raisin?" Hannah offers, nibbling on some.
"No, thanks. I don't really like them, but thanks," I tell her, and she shrugs before eating.
I don't really like raisins in general. And plus, they're probably coated in sugar and everything. I pull out my phone and play some Subway Surfers. Pressley comes down next, then Elliana, then Brady, and Gia. Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna arrive last, both do a quick head count, and then we are on our way to the bus.
I find an empty seat near the moms, and I put my bag in the seat next to me. It's not too far from the competition from the hotel, so I don't mind starting a movie or anything, just look out the window. I'm too anxious about the leotard to really socialize.
"Oh my god! Look at Studio 19!" Ms. Joanne exclaims and we all press our noses to the door.
Studio 19 has big banners and is chanting some sort of chant that is inaudible.
"They did not come to play," Ms. Ashley reports and we all murmur in agreement.
"Ladies and Brady, be courteous to our competition when entering. Psych them out on the stage, not out here. They want to mess with our heads, and you will not allow it! Now put on a smile and walk out there!" Ms. Abby yells as the bus door opens.
I quickly go in between Gia and Hannah and I walk out, saying hi to my fans as we walk into the school. When we find our dressing room, we see Sarah and Ms. Michelle waiting outside, somehow still coordinating outfits.
"Sarah!" we all quietly exclaim, giving her a big group hug.
"Sarah wants to dance," Ms. Michelle explains.
"You should be able to go in," Ms. Ashley states and Ms. Ann agrees.
We are all ushered in the dressing room, bar Sarah. Studio 19 is standing in the hallway to the dressing room, and we all say our hellos, and our good luck before going into the dressing room. As I start getting into my solo costume, the moms enter, Sarah hidden amongst them. I want Sarah to dance so bad.
"Sarah, what are you doing here, hon?" Ms. Abby asks, finally noticing Sarah in the dressing room.
Ms. Joanne, standing up for her, states, "She's part of the team, Abby, and she belongs in here with us. She doesn't belong in the hallway."
"Yeah, but her mother crucified her, and she needs to go," Ms. Abby says calmly.
How is she being so chill about this? She isn't forcing Sarah out, so she just sits next to Pressley, not bothering anybody. A minute later, as Gia and I are touching up each other's hair, we hear screaming out in the hallway. Mom hands my noise-canceling headphones to Sarah so she doesn't have to hear any of this bullcrap.
"See, do you see it! This is just Uniontown trash. And she needs to go," Ms. Abby shouts and I cover my ears.
A couple of seconds later, Ms. Michelle walks in and states, "Abby. I'm not here to cause you any problems."
"Yet, you cause trouble, you bring it with you," Ms. Abby explains, clearly angry at the presence of Sarah and Ms. Michelle.
"My daughter has always dreamed of dancing for you and with you," Ms. Michelle tries to reason.
"You have to leave," Ms. Abby says, pointing to the door.
Ms. Abby then grabs her phone, types in a couple of digits, and says into the phone, "Police."
I start to panic with Sarah. I hate the police. I hate hospitals, I hate paramedics, I hate the police. The police are going to take you to jail, Lilliana. You've been bad. You shouldn't have eaten anything yesterday.
Hannah, Gia and Ms. Ann takes Sarah on a little walk for some water, Mom and Ms. Yolanda tries to get Studio 19 to go away, Ms. Joanne and Ms. Ashley are trying to calm Ms. Abby down.
I stand near Brady and Elliana, watching this all go down. Elliana and I sit down in some chairs and watch this whole thing go down. Elliana tries to calm me down, handing me a water bottle to drink. Sarah, Hannah, Ms. Ann, and Gia return and we all give Sarah a bear hug.
As we begin to hear police sirens outside, Ms. Ashley asks, "So do we really need the police here?"
"Yes, I want to be protected," Ms. Abby states as a police officer walks into our dressing room, and I start shaking a bit in fear.
The police officer is going to take you back to the hospital, Lilliana.
Ms. Abby, now directing her attention to the police officer, says, "Hi. How are you doing? I made the phone call. This woman, she needs to be out of this dressing room."
"I'm here to apologize. I'm really calm," Ms. Michelle tells the police officer.
"Yeah, there's been chaos, screaming, yelling, everything..." Ms. Abby trails off.
The moms argue against Ms. Abby, as the police officer reports, "I mean, obviously, you know, if she doesn't want you here then you can't be within perimeters of the dance. You know what I mean? Unless your daughter is going to be performing."
Ms. Abby lets out a chuckle. She's so twisted and sick right now. Sarah is probably not dancing, so Ms. Michelle nor Sarah won't even get to see us perform. Ms. Michelle is escorted out by the police officers, and surprisingly, Sarah is not. I fish out a Venlafaxine from Mom's purse and take it. It's going to be a rough day.
"All right, we need to start getting ready for these solos. Sarah, sit down over here with the girls. Sit, sit. No crying. No brats. No crying. You were wrong. You should have told your mother not to come" Ms. Abby yells, and her eyes are to the brim with tears.
"Sarah, at least you're in here now. It's good, okay? Progress. One step," Mom encourages as I stretch out for my solo.
"All right, let's do this. Lilly, run yours first," Ms. Abby calls out.
I flatten out the few wrinkles in my costume. It's a pale pink lace leotard, but it's a lot more opaque and it even has a pale pink skirt. The skirt barely covers your thighs, Lilliana. It doesn't make you look pretty or dainty. It makes you look ugly and fat.
I begin to dance in the corner of our dressing room, and Ms. Abby yells out, "Smile."
You can't even use your face right, Lilliana. You're such a pathetic and awful dancer. Why does your mother even waste her time on you? I smile through the emotional pain and everybody applauds for me as I get into my ending pose.
I get a big smile from Ms. Abby, and after everybody stops clapping, I rejoin Mom to our dressing room seat and I sit in her lap as we watch Brady and Gia practice their solo. We all have pressure on our backs. For me, I'm competing to prove that my perfect solo wasn't a fluke. Gia needs to redeem her jazz reputation. And Brady needs to prove he's worthy to be on the team.
As Brady is performing his solo, Ms. Yolanda asks, "Specifically to the solo moms, like, how are you guys feeling?"
"I'm nervous for Brady. I mean, he hasn't been on stage... Gosh, I think it's been five weeks now," Ms. Tricia reveals.
"Well, he was certainly given enough time this week to make it perfect. I mean, Lilly, this week, learned her solo in an hour," Mom argues, and I can tell she's still salty, while I couldn't care less.
I start to panic a bit when Ms. Abby announces, "All right, come on guys, let's do it."
"Breathe, Lilly," Mom reminds me and I walk over to Brady and Gia.
I can barely breathe when Ms. Abby starts to begin her speeches, but I can't have another panic attack on the air.
"Brady, you've been beaten before. Are you gonna let it happen again?" Ms. Abby asks Brady, to which he shakes his head no.
"Lilly, you're coming off of a perfect 300 score, and now, I expect nothing less," Ms. Abby warns, and I nod.
Oh, God. If I don't get a perfect score, I'm going to disappoint Ms. Abby. You always disappoint Ms. Abby, Lilliana. You're fat and ugly, and you will never get a perfect score ever again. Ms. Abby probably rigged the scores to give you false hope anyway.
"All right. Sarah, you'll come with me and sit in the audience. Come on, let's go," Ms. Abby shouts and I follow Gia and Brady out.
"I... can't... breathe," I reveal to Elliana.
She rubs my back as we keep walking, and I start to go dizzy. I force myself to keep walking, but my pace slows, along with Elliana's.
"You're just gonna dance, and then you can have some water, we can watch the other people. Just try your best, Lilly. Your best is good enough. You just need to believe it," Elliana encourages, and my pace quickens a bit, and I start to breathe more normally.
"Thank you," I whisper before we enter the stage, and she just gives me a smile and a nod.
"Good luck, Lilly," everybody says to me, and I nod before I hear my name being called.
"Ladies and gentlemen and judges, this is Lilliana with 'Shine Bright.'" the announcer announces and the audience all goes wild.
I put on my biggest smile, acting like I haven't just had some sort of reaction. It's a lot of pressure that Ms. Abby is putting on me because she's saying, "You just came off of a perfect score and I'm expecting more from you now" because she knows I can do that.
But I'm against Brady, Gia, and Studio 19. And I've only had one hour to learn this dance and rehearse this dance, but for some reason I do well under pressure, so I'm hoping that I do well and prove to Ms. Abby I can win. I get in my starting pose and "In A Spin" by Wizardz of Oz begins to play.
I dance. I dance as well as I can. I nail all my moves, make sure I smile a lot, look dainty and pretty, making sure my timing and musicality is correct and my technique is excellent. I put my hand to my heart and face the audience, and once again, the crowd goes wild as I exit the stage. I actually feel confident that I may win.
I run into Pressley's arms, jumping up and down with her. Still out of breath, a camera man shoves his camera in my face and asks me for a comment.
"I feel really good and I'm really proud of myself and I feel like I did a really good job, and I'm happy that I didn't do anything wrong or mess up anything because, you know, I only had one hour to learn this, and I feel like I'm really happy," I comment, and I think about my words.
Am I really happy? No. I'll never be happy in my life. You probably messed up somewhere on the stage, Lilliana. You're never perfect. You're never going to be perfect looking like the way you are. My excitement doesn't last long because Brady is now getting called.
"Ladies and gentlemen and judges, this is entry number 69. This is our advanced teen contemporary solo category. This is entry number 69, Brady, 'Rocketman,'" the announcer calls out.
I cheer for him as I'm drinking water, watching as he gets in his starting position and "We Have Lift Off" by Mel Wesson begins to play. Okay, here's the thing. He does every single move perfectly, even his back handspring into a back layout step out. His emotions are there. But the moves don't flow together. It looks like someone did the smoothie challenge with a bunch of dance moves. But Brady is Brady. He pulls it off somehow. You're never gonna be as great of a dancer as Brady, Lilliana. I run up to him and hand him a water bottle before Gia goes on.
This is it. Gia's jazzy redemption. They call out her number, she hides out on the wings, hits our beginning pose, and "Hello Big Shot" by Mario Grigorov begins to play out of the speakers.
She definitely has the stage presence. She lures the judges in, while still having the technique and the form and everything. You could never pull off a number like that, Lilliana. You're too dumb to be able to pull something off like this.
Immediately, she's given a hug, a water bottle, and a walk to the dressing room. Sarah rejoins us midway through the hall. She gives all of us a hug and seems very happy as we walk into the dressing room.
This is the group dance I've been dreading ever since I heard "lace leotard"come out of Ms. Abby's mouth. Mom begins to do my hair into a curly bun and puts on a bright red lip, making me look sassy and fierce even though I'm insecure, imperfect, and a baby.
Gia and I go into the dressing room to change into our leotards. I put on the lace leotard, make sure nothing is twisted or anything, and I wait for Gia to come out, looking in the mirror. God, I look so fat in the mirror. I shouldn't have eaten yesterday. You are never going to be skinny enough on stage, Lilliana. You shouldn't even be allowed to go on stage.
Of course, me being a total crybaby, I begin to cry right as Gia comes out of her stall.
"Lilly, what's wrong?" Gia asks, giving me a big hug.
"It's stupid. I took all my medicine, and I'm still crying," I say back, trying to wipe your tears.
"Nothing's stupid, Lilly," Gia reassures me.
"It's just- I look so fat in this. I hate it," I whimper, trying not to ruin my makeup.
"Lilly. You're perfect, okay? I know that something in your head tells you you're not, but you're going to look fabulous on stage," Gia comforts, and I wrap my arms around her.
"We have to go back," I giggle weakly.
I still look awful, even with Gia's words. She means well, but I know she's lying. I walk out of the mirror. All these people are staring at me. I'm going to be on television looking like this. I nervously walk back to the dressing room, and I see Ms. Ann and Ms. Ashley doing Sarah's hair and makeup, just in case.
"Sarah, I see your hair's done. Who did your hair?" Ms. Abby asks, looking rather curious.
"Ashley," Sarah reveals, spraying some hairspray into her hair.
Ms. Abby, looking quite annoyed, asks, "So, Ashley, you've made the decision Sarah's dancing?"
"No, I just wanted to have her prepared in case you changed your mind," Ms. Ashley reveals.
"Well, it looks like you changed my... mind for me," Ms. Abby remarks.
"I taught for 25 years, and I've always told kids, 'You know what, you make a choice, you live with the consequence.' You don't live by somebody else's consequences, certainly not your mother's," Ms. Yolanda argues, and Ms. Abby actually seems to be listening and considering it.
"You all feel sorry for this little girl, as do I, and you all want her to dance," Ms. Abby states.
"I-I feel like she's part of the team, and that's why," Ms. Ann adds, adding bobby pins to my hair.
"Sarah, do you even know the dance?" Ms. Abby asks and Sarah nods.
Ms. Abby, looking surprised, suggests, "Alright, Sarah, why don't you do it by yourself? Let's go."
Sarah, please use the choreo I sent you. Don't crack under the pressure. I watch anxiously as she... kills the dance. Ms. Abby has to let her dance now. Ms. Abby looks at Ms. Gianna, looks at Sarah, and then looks at the air. She's dumbfounded.
"Sarah, I don't let mothers dictate my studio, certainly not your mother. All right? We all feel sorry for you. I'm gonna feel really, really sorry for you if you screw this dance up," Ms. Abby tells Sarah.
"So she's in?"Mom clarifies, and I get butterflies in my stomach.
"Well, if she makes a mistake out there, it's on all of you. Not on Gianna, not on me," Ms. Abby warns the mothers, and I can't help but smile a bit.
Yes! Sarah's dancing! She strips off her dance clothes, revealing the lacy red leotard under the clothes. She came prepared. Ms. Abby looks surprised, but doesn't question as we're led out. I feel like we have to perform at 100% because we want to do this for Sarah, and we don't want to make any mistakes. And on top of all that, we need to kick Studio 19's butt.
You won't beat Studio 19 looking like that, Lilliana. I feel so insecure about this. I'm going out on stage with this. If we don't win, it's going to be my fault for looking so fat. Gia told me otherwise in the bathroom, but I just don't believe her. I get in the back of the line behind Gia, and wait for our cue.
"Ladies and gentlemen, concluding our day here at Fierce Dance Challenge, entry number 118, 'Body and Soul," the announcer calls out.
I walk out on stage, my face not conveying my true emotions, and I bend backwards, grabbing Gia's hand for support as I turn into a noodle. "Set Free the Devil," by Nick Kingsley and Daniel Farrant begins to play and I do the choreography. From what I can tell, we're in sync, we're sassy, and we kill this number, even with the last-minute addition of Sarah.
When we walk off, we each grab a water bottle, and we chat while we wait for awards. It was amazing. It would have been more amazing if you looked better in the leotard, Lilliana. You probably just looked like a flopping fat whale while on stage.
I wish I could change back into what Brady is wearing, but I have to wear the leotard for the awards. I groan under my breath as I sit in between Elliana and Pressley. I need to win my solo and I need to win this group dance. They begin with the top overall advanced solo category. Ten, ninth, and eighth aren't us. That's a good sign.
"Seventh place, overall advanced solo... 69, 'Rocketman," the announcer calls out and I'm shocked.
Brady Farrar getting seventh overall. Impossible. Even with the choreography, he should have beat me. I definitely haven't placed. You were awful out on stage, Lilliana. If you would've gotten tenth, that would've been a mistake because your dance wasn't good. You're a mistake, Lilliana.
Sixth is nobody. Fifth is Gia. Fourth and third are nobody. I've either gotten second or first, or not placed.
"Taking second overall, is routine number 62, 'Shine Bright,'" the announcer shouts and I put on a fake smile and accept my award.
At least it's a place. But second is the first to lose. I'm not good enough. I'm definitely punishing myself in the hotel room tonight, since we're staying an extra night. Hard. I may have beat Brady and Gia, even though I'm ten, with one hour of rehearsal time, but when I hear a Studio 19 solo win, my heart drops.
I walk back, disappointed. Maybe we can still win the group dance. Stay positive, Lilly. Heh, who am I kidding? We at least don't get called for anything up to third. Maybe we have a shot. Or maybe we didn't place.
Of course. Of course we have to get called for second overall. We're always so close to winning. So close that we can taste it. But then we get called for the first to lose. Gia gets our award, and at least first place isn't Studio 19. But we all are thinking the same thing when we walk back to the dressing room. We disappointed Ms. Abby yet again.
As we walk in, anxious to peel off these leotards, Ms. Abby looks at us and her face is burning my eyes. We walk over to her, and I stand next to Gia at the end.
"There were things that I wanted to shut my eyes, that I was afraid of, literally sick to my stomach when you guys were out there dancing. I mean, I-I'm, it was awful. You know, and I've had a headache all day. So any little thing was going to tick me off. Like you, and your mother. I don't want that. Do you see what that looks like when people behave this way? It's obnoxious," Ms. Abby explains.
"W-Where does that leave Michelle? Like, right now, Sarah's here and Michelle's not allowed in," Ms. Ashley inquires.
"Right, because I can't have poison in my dressing room, and I don't understand why you people want it," Ms. Abby shouts, exasperated.
Ms. Yolanda argues, "That's your subjective opinion."
"No! It's my company and I make the rules, Yolanda. It's my world. You're just visiting. And I'm not gonna fight with some yahoo mother yinzer from Pittsburgh about her kid and if she can be a star or not because there's always another kid. So wake up. Smell the coffee burning and figure it out. Toodles," Ms. Abby shouts before wheeling out of the dressing room.
"Ok, game plan. The bus is leaving in thirty minutes, so we're gonna brush out your hair, and then get changed into your hoodies. Go to the hotel and go straight to sleep. Got it?" Ms. Gianna tells all of us and we nod in agreement.
Mom takes out the bun and brushes out my hair, turning it from curly to straight again. After taking off my makeup, she hands me my hoodie and Pressley and I go into the bathroom to change.
"I'm so relieved to get this leotard off of me," I grumble as everything is covered again with my hoodie and leggings.
"I know right? It's itchy," Pressley exclaims and I chuckle.
Not what I meant, but okay. I give my leotard to Mom, and I help the other girls get ready and pack up all our stuff until we're ready.
"Busmates?" Hannah asks me and I nod.
"I may fall asleep, though. I'm sleepy," I yawn.
She chuckles at my comment, but I'm not joking. I manage to get a window seat, but I don't enjoy the view for very long because I actually fall asleep on the bus ride.
***brady***
"Ok, everybody off the bus! Be back here by nine to go back to Pittsburgh!" Ms. Abby shouts.
The moms leave the bus, exhausted, and we begin to leave too until we see Hannah trying to wake up Lilly.
"She's out cold again," Hannah mutters.
She looks so scared and in so much pain, yet so peaceful. I offer to carry her to her room. Hannah moves so I can lift her, and it feels like I'm lifting my little brother, who's three to four years younger than Lilly.
"She's so light. She's like, Bode's weight, maybe less," I whisper as I step off the bus with my sleeping friend in my arms.
They all look at each other with concern. I knew it was bad, but I didn't know she was this light. Pressley leads me up to their hotel room and I lay Lilly down on the bed, placing the thick blanket over her. I say goodnight to Pressley, and go to my room with Gia, where I, too, fall asleep, now even more worried about Lilly's disorder. I want to tell her parents, or an adult, but I promised her not. And I don't want to break her trust.
~~~~~