Page 36 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10

Sunday

Alina

Kristen and I arrived at the arena a few minutes before her scheduled rehearsal time on stage. Practicing in the studio was one thing, but getting a feel for the actual stage before the performance was key. Or at least, that's what Tim told us.

A security guard kept us away from the stage while the clock ticked down to our fifteen minute time slot. They didn't want us interrupting or getting a peek at another girl's dance before the actual event.

"Your turn," said the security guard. He opened the door and stepped aside.

Gabriela walked out. Her lips turned into a cruel smile when she saw us. "Losing to me twice isn't enough for you girls?" Then she paused and waited for Chris to come through the door too. "Actually, I guess it's three times now. He was your boyfriend, right?"

Seeing them together made me lightheaded. All the blood must have been rushing to my balled fists.

"Fuck you," said Kristen. "Chris, you're a cheating asshole. And Gabriela, you're a stupid bitch. You two are perfect for each other."

"We're also both gold medalists. Something you two know nothing about."

"Just wait a few hours when you're looking up at me on the gold medal podium. Then we'll see who's laughing." Kristen pushed past Gabriela and Chris, bumping both of them with her shoulders. I followed and the security guard closed the door behind us.

"God, I fucking hate both of them," I said. "Thank you so much for volunteering to do this. Seeing you beat her is going to be the best moment of my life. Well...until the after party with Bryce." Just the thought of it sent chills down my spine.

"Believe me, I'll enjoy beating that bitch just as much as you. Now, lets..." Kristen stopped dead in her tracks when we pulled back the curtain to look at the stage. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit is right," I muttered. For some reason I had expected the arena to be the size of my high school auditorium. It was about thirty times as big.

Pyrotechnics guys and stage hands worked feverishly on various curtains and flags and contraptions while camera crews were testing the HD cameras around the perimeter of the stage.

The front of the stage was curved outwards, and then there was a catwalk that led to a circular platform with a few steps up to a raised portion.

From the brief practice I had, I knew that the raised part could rotate.

We made sure to incorporate that into the routine.

The judges table was directly in front of that.

Beyond that, there were thousands of rows of tiered seating.

I could barely see up to the back row, but the huge flat screens above the stage and on the walls ensured all the spectators would have a perfect view of the performances.

"This is going to be awesome," said Kristen.

Or terrifying. "Ready to do your rehearsal?"

"Yup, let's do it." Kristen pulled out the pair of sparkly blue heels Tim had picked out for the dance and put them on. I had a matching pair, and based on our practicing in them to break them in, I knew they weren't going to be easy to dance in.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and waited for Kristen to get her shoes on and take her starting position behind the curtains.

She stuck her hand through to give me a thumbs up and I hit play.

The songs that Tim had spliced together started playing.

It probably would have been better if all the backup dancers had been here too, but Tim said wardrobe needed them all morning to get their outfits just so.

Kristen burst through the curtains with so much confidence and rocked the first few moves. Gabriela doesn't stand a chance.

I sat back and enjoyed the performance. It was flawless.

And then she went to dismount the rotating platform.

"Shit!" she screamed as her ankle twisted under her. She collapsed to the stage.

"Kristen! Are you okay?" I ran over and put my hand on her shoulder.

Kristen scrunched her face up in pain. "Yeah, I think I'm okay. Give me a second."

"What happened?"

"I just landed funny in these damn shoes. I knew Tim should have let us wear flats. Alright, help me up."

I reached out and helped Kristen to her feet. She winced when she tried to put weight on her right foot.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

"No. Damn it, I think I sprained my ankle." She was standing on one leg and using me for balance.

"Should I try to find a trainer?"

"I'll find one later. But right now, we shouldn't be worried about me. This is your dance now."

"Oh my God..." I had been so concerned about Kristen being hurt that it hadn't hit me until just then.

I was the understudy. And now that Kristen was hurt, I was going to have to perform the dance.

On this stage. I looked around at the cameras, the thousands of empty seats in the audience.

My head started to spin. "Nope. No. This can't be happening.

We need to find someone else to do this. "

"Who else? You were the only other girl in all of our dance practices."

"Right. Okay, well, maybe your ankle just needs some tape?"

Kristen laughed a little. "Alina, tape isn't going to fix this. The dance is in less than three hours and I can't even put pressure on it."

"I really don't think I can do it. What if the guys just all go out there without us?"

"I wouldn't mind watching that, but I don't think it's allowed. I'm pretty sure this is a women's event, so without a woman, we'd be disqualified. Alina, you can do this. I saw you in practice. You know it just as well as I do."

"Yeah, I can do the moves in the studio. But in front of all these people? And what if I lose? I'll have to kill myself if Gabriela beats me again."

"You know you can't think like that. If you were that afraid of losing, you'd never have gotten this far in volleyball.

We go out on that court every day thinking that we're going to win.

This is no different. Just picture the look on Gabriela's face when she's looking up at you on that gold medal podium. That'll be priceless."

"You really think I can beat her?" I asked.

"I know you can. But first you need to do a rehearsal run. We only have a few more minutes before we get kicked off the stage."

"Should I wear my shoes?"

"Do you have an understudy?"

"No."

"Then hell no. You're wearing sneakers until five seconds before you perform. We can't have you spraining your ankle too."

***

The music stopped and I looked over at Kristen. Please tell me I wasn't awful.

"Alright, I'd say you're ready," said Kristen. "My only advice would be to not shy away from the sexy parts. Arch your back more. Really get into it. It's supposed to be a sexy dance, so be sexy. You haven't had a problem being sexy with Bryce during practice, that's for damn sure."

"But this is in front of millions of people."

Kristen shook her head. "The lights on stage will be so bright that you won't be able to see any of that. While you're dancing you can just pretend like it's you and Bryce, but in the end, you're going to do such an awesome job that you'll be happy all those people are there to see it."

"Is Bryce even gonna be out there with me? He's Tim's understudy, so unless Tim was practicing in high heels this morning and tweaked his ankle like you, he's not going to be out there." Actually, Tim practicing in high heels wouldn't really surprise me that much.

"I'll go to the guys' locker room and convince him that you need Bryce out there. But first let's go to our changing room and find me some crutches."

I helped Kristen to her feet. She draped her arm around me and hopped on one foot towards our changing room.

Our changing room was marked with a gold star with "Kristen - USA" printed in the middle.

I held it open and let Kristen hobble through.

There were three women inside. One was pulling a ridiculous amount of makeup out of a duffel bag and setting it on a counter in front of one of those fancy mirrors with all the light bulbs on the side.

Another had at least three different curlers and flat irons plugged in and was cleaning off a comb.

And the third was our wardrobe designer, Annie, who had just hung up Kristen's dress and was making a few last minute measurements with a tape measure.

All three of them turned to look at us.

"Hi, girls," said Annie. "I'm just putting a few finishing touches..." She paused and looked at Kristen. "Are you okay? Why are you hopping on one foot like that?"

"I sprained my ankle during the rehearsal. Alina is going to have to dance for me."

Annie shook her head. "That's why we have understudies."

"Do you think you can find me some crutches?" asked Kristen.

"Sure, I'll be right back." Annie looped her tape measure over Kristen's dress and hurried out of the changing room.

The girl with the curling iron took a step towards us. "Hi, I'm Judy, and I'll be doing your hair. Cindy will do your makeup. We're gonna make sure you look amazing."

"Hi, thanks," I said. "Is it okay if I shower first? I got all sweaty during the rehearsal."

Judy smiled. "Of course. There's a bathroom right through there." She gestured to a door on the opposite side of the room. "I put a few products in there for you to use."

"There's a towel and robe waiting in there for you," added Cindy.

"Okay, great. Thanks," I said. At least I'm getting pampered before humiliating myself in front of millions of people.

"Did you want me to wait until Annie gets back?" I asked Kristen.

"Kristen hopped over to the makeup chair and sat down. "That's okay. I'm comfy here. You should go shower. This is your big day now."

She was taking her injury surprisingly well.

I thought she had been so excited to perform, but now that she couldn't, she didn't seem the least bit upset.

In fact, she didn't even really seem to be in that much pain.

Oh my God, is she faking her injury just to get me to perform?

She was the one who demanded I be her understudy.

"Are you sure your ankle isn't feeling any better?" I asked.

Kristen lowered her foot to the ground and winced. "Ow, damn."

Okay, definitely not faking. I guess it was wishful thinking that she'd be faking and actually be able to perform.

"Go, take your shower," said Kristen. "The sooner you shower the sooner Cindy and Judy can start working their magic."

"Thanks for being so supportive. I know you really wanted to do this dance."

"As long as we win gold and wipe that smug look off Gabriela's face, I don't give a damn which one of us is out there."

I gave Kristen a smile and walked into the bathroom.

As promised, a fluffy towel and robe were hanging up on the wall and the shelf in the shower was lined with bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and lotion that had super expensive sounding brand names.

I turned the water on, stripped off my sweaty clothes, and stepped inside.

When I was a kid, showering was one of my favorite parts of my daily routine.

I remember waking up on cold winter mornings.

The sun would still be hidden below the horizon.

I'd be so cold when I got out of bed, but I'd run right into the bathroom and take a nice, hot shower.

And for those fifteen minutes, I was warm and at peace.

Whatever tests I had coming up, whatever boy problems or drama with my friends, none of it mattered while I was in the shower.

All that I would focus on was the sound of the water hitting the tiles.

There were times when I wished I could just stay in the shower forever.

This was one of those times.

I took extra long rubbing the shampoo in, then I told myself that I should let the conditioner sit for a little longer before rinsing it. I even soaped myself up twice. But it was all just prolonging the inevitable. Eventually, the shower came to an end.

I turned the water off and stepped out. The steam from the shower had filled the entire room, so the air was pretty warm. Maybe I should crack a window. Or escape.

The thought lingered in my mind as I walked over the window and opened it.

I was on the ground floor. I could easily just hop out and catch an Uber to somewhere far away from here.

It was so very tempting, but I couldn't stand the thought of letting Gabriela win.

I had to at least try to beat that bitch.

I guess this is really happening. I'm going to do a strip dance in front of the entire world.