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“What? You can’t just cancel last minute, especially at a wedding. Your cousin should sue!”

“The belly dancer went into labor.” Axel holds back a laugh.

“They hired a pregnant belly dancer?” I ask, feeling my eyes grow.

“Well, they obviously didn’t know. Belly dancers are supposed to carry around extra weight in their mid-section. Just not typically an entire human being.”

“Okay. Fine. No entertainment. Is it a big deal?” I shrug. “They can just move right to the dancing portion.”

“The belly dancer kicks off the party. Engages the guests. It’s supposed to be this whole big thing, and Arabs talk. They’ll complain my cousin had a boring wedding if there’s no performance. Half of them are probably already talking about the fact that my cousin hired a DJ and not an Arab band.”

“This has not been a boring wedding,” I say. Axel sighs while pacing back and forth. “Why are you letting this bother you so much? It’s notyourwedding.”

“They want me to do something,” he says, stalling in front of me. “They want me to put together some sort of performance.”

“That’s great,” I say, nodding enthusiastically. “I can film it. We can add it to your account.”

“No, Jamie.” His eyebrows furrow. “I’ve never danced in front of my parents before. Much less in front of three hundred Arabs.”

“You danced in front of everyone at Wonderland. You have TikToks with over a million views!” I remind him. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is Arabs. And my father. Aren’t you listening? What if I embarrass him?”

“The guests will love it. And so will your father.”

Axel’s arms are crossed over his chest. I place my hands on them and loosen his arms, holding his hands in mine. “Come on. I can help you figure something out. It’ll be a bop.”

He laughs. “You’re such a dork.”

I boop his nose with my finger. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Axel and I retreat to a quiet corner in the foyer and go over potential ideas and numbers. We debate a long time over the right song and, shock of all shockers, he agrees to go with my choice. I find myself having to play the role of reassurer, reminding him he’s got this and will blow everyone away. It’s an odd shift in our dynamic. It’s always felt like I’ve needed him more than he needed me, and, in a strange twist of events, I kind of like having him depend on me.

After he does a quick run-through in front of me while I play the song on my phone, Axel’s confidence grows. He smiles wider. His shoulders stop slumping. His cocky demeanor has returned.

“Thanks, Jamie,” he says, while removing his tie again and rolling up his sleeves.

“No need to thank me, yet, anyway.” I grin while helping him unbutton a few snaps of his dress shirt. I run a finger from his neck to the start of his chest. “Give the ladies, and some of the gents, what they want. You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he says, looking down at my lingering finger. I remove it from his chest, sucking in my lips.

We walk back into the hall together. I speak to the DJ and tell him what song to play once Axel begins. Axel wanted to go with an Arabic song at first, but I thought it would be more surprising to go a different way.

I stand at the end of the dance floor with my phone, ready to film. Axel picks up the mic and takes a deep breath. “Ahlan, everyone.” He waits a few minutes for the guests to stop talking. He whistles with his fingers into the mic when that doesn’t work. “Thank you all for attending Samir and Reema’s wedding. For those who don’t know me, I’m Alexander Dahini, the groom’s favorite cousin. Unfortunately, I come bearing bad news,” he says, nervously raking his fingers through his hair. “The belly dancer they hired can’t attend tonight because, well, she’s currently giving birth to a little belly dancer.”

Silence envelopes the room before a sea of laughter erupts. Axel shoots me a tentative glance, but I know he’s going to nail this.

“So instead, you get me,” he continues. “Some of you may know dancing is a passion of mine, and I’m not afraid to admit that.” His shaky laugh following that statement tells another story. “I hope you’re able to enjoy this performance and embrace that people of all genders and ages can and should dance. Regardless of ability.” He winks at me, his confidence clearly having returned, before taking a deep breath.

The lights dim and colorful spotlights shine on the parquet dance floor. Axel places the mic on the head table and returns tothe center of the room. He runs his hands through his hair again and down his body. A few murmurs and some throat clearing echoes throughout the hall before “Adventure of a Lifetime,” by Coldplay begins.

Immediately, Axel moves with the upbeat strings of the intro. His feet pound the dance floor before he bounces on his tiptoes, twisting and sliding all around. His hips move in sync with his feet and it is obvious to everyone that Axel is one hundred percent in his element. People rise from their seats, clapping along and cheering him on, standing in front of me and blocking my view. I give up filming and put my phone down on the table.

Axel’s father is the only person still seated. I walk over to him and extend my hand. He starts to shake his head. “It would be rude to say no to your son’s girlfriend.”

Mr. Dahini sighs before rising, albeit grudgingly. I lead him to the dance floor where Axel is still wowing the crowd. We stand with Axel’s mother and sisters, who all have proud smiles plastered on their faces.

“He’s good, right?” I say to his father.