Work Text:
The eyes in the mirror, smoked out and dark, stared back unblinking.
Stacey breathed in deeply, taking in the warmth of the black velvet and weight of the serpent of feathers fading out her dress. The woman reflected seemed nervous but mostly, she was fierce and proud. The last time she had worn that dress, the final hadn't even crossed her mind.
"Is everything alright?" asked her stylist, knocking against the curtain. Stacey tore her gaze from the mirror.
"Yes. Still fits."
There was a laugh, more masculine than the first and also more familiar. "Well, thank god for that."
She pulled the curtain away and saw that Kevin had already changed and was waiting for her. His eyes were bright with adrenaline. For the first time, he looked nervous too. "Are you ready?" she grinned.
"I'm ready," then, his face turned more serious. He took a deep breath, gently reaching for her hands. "Stacey, whatever happens out there, I…" he struggled to find his words. "I need you to know that you've been the best partner I could've asked for, alright? I don't care if we win, I've enjoyed every moment of our time together and wouldn't trade it for anything."
Crap . His voice tightened and her lungs ached. Don't cry, not already ! Thankfully, years of live journalism had given her a proper grip on her emotions.
"I know, Kev." she smiled, rubbing his arm and the man had to look away to hold in his tears. He'd always been such a cheery guy, seeing him like this was genuinely painful. "But I'm going to give it my best tonight. I'm going to give that trophy my best shot."
He laughed again. "Thank you." he reached for her hands and squeezed gently. All at once, she saw how precious this night was for him and felt overwhelmed by the trust and raw gratitude. Then, he led them towards the backstage. Stacey realised that the orchestra had started playing. Already? Her heart jumped. Time was up. "Knock 'em dead, partner." he whispered, with a wink.
And with a swing, pulled away the curtain to a brightly lit stage. She wrapped her arm around his. Never had she smiled so bright.
Drowned in the music, lights and cheers, Stacey didn't notice Kevin hurriedly grasp for the railing. This was the Strictly Come Dancing final after all and it required all of her attention.
The music pulsed through her as she stormed down the ballroom floor. Head high, shoulders back, legs straight and sharp. When she spun round, Kevin was right there, matching her moves with an ease that still baffled her. She grabbed his hand, pulling him into hold, faces suddenly brushing. Don't smile. She kept her face cold and eyes distant, never looking at him despite the proximity.
Then, the music picked up and they swirled around each other, every move carrying a dangerous elegance. She pushed him back, suddenly tearing them apart and picked up her dress to ruffle it around her. Internally, she labelled that part as the Ostrich because of how silly she'd felt when learning it. Kevin followed her moves, she could just make out his shape in the corner of her eye. The music was reaching its end. Now or never . Stacey closed her eyes and let herself fall back. It didn't matter how many times she practiced, there was always that half second where she was convinced she would smack into the floor.
But Kevin caught her. Again. The music ended and as they took a moment to breathe, applause roaring all around, she noticed that her partner had gone white. "Kevin?" She picked herself up but the man stayed on the ground for a bit, she leaned closer. "Kevin?"
Finally, he blinked and waved her off. "Just a sec." he smiled, voice strained. Then, with a groan, pushed himself off and pulled her into a hug. "Good job." he whispered and led them to Tess and the judges without giving her time to ask what was wrong. Stacey gave him a worried glance but tried to compose herself.
The judges' remarks were nothing but a blur. As she listened and nodded and laughed, Stacey was keeping a close eye on her partner. He was shaking and she quickly realised that he kept his weight on one leg alone, the other lightly pressed to the ground. When they headed for the stairs, he had to pull himself up with the railing but despite that, not once did his smile falter. As the people on the balcony shouted their names in unison, she whispered. "How bad?"
Kevin brushed her concerns away. "Just landed a little too hard, it's nothing, don't worry."
Don't worry indeed . Kevin outright disappeared after that. When she came out of the dressing room, outfitted for the final dance of the night, the young man was nowhere to be seen. Stacey felt her gut twist, sensing something was seriously wrong but kept quiet. Instead, she searched around backstage and finally, she found a locked door at the very end of the changing rooms. She knocked. "Kev?"
"Yep, coming, give a sec!" his voice was shaky and rushed. She thought she caught a muffled groan.
Then the door opened and Kevin managed about five steps before listing to the side.
Stacey held him up. "Show me." she ordered, leading him back to the bench in the changing room. Kevin simply sunk into the wall, eyes clenched and face drained of all colour. "If it's that bad-!"
"S' not." he gasped, shaking his head. "Just a bad reception, it'll pass."
"Then show me." she asked, firmly.
Kevin sighed, defeated, slowly leaned over and delicately removed his left shoe. His white sock covered a loose bandage wrapped around his ankle. The skin underneath was red and alarmingly swollen. The dancer hissed as she undid the wrapping to get a better look. "That looks broken." she said.
"It's not." But it sounded like a plea. She gently pressed the skin, feeling the unusual warmth. Kevin reared back violently, his whole body jerked away. A muffled cry escaped him.
"Definitely broken. How did you not notice?"
Her partner's silence was deafening.
Stacey looked him straight in the eyes. "How long has it been like this?"
"I didn't think…" he trailed off.
"How long, Kev?"
"Last night."
Her blood went cold. She stood up. "I'm calling an ambulance, stay there."
"Stacey, wait!" Kevin leapt up after her, unable to even let his broken ankle touch the floor. "It's not that bad, it really isn't."
"You can barely walk!"
He sighed, slowly lowering his foot to the floor and slowly shifting weight onto it. "I can, trust me this is the worst it's gotten all night. It'll be fine within a few minutes."
She looked at him as though he was insane. "You have a broken bone, it's not just going to get better. "
"I know, I know. It's not, you're right but it will be fine for the last dance."
"Because you intend to do the last dance with a broken ankle?" she repeated slowly, dumbfounded.
He nodded. "Yes. Let me at least try." She was about to argue but he cut her off. "Stacey, I've spent weeks on that choreography. This is the most passionate I've felt about dancing in a long time and it's all thanks to you. I have to try or I'll spend my life regretting it."
Well shit . She didn't know what to do now. The rational part of her brain was screaming at her to get proper help but knowing that that would effectively ruin weeks of work and beyond that, years of training, made the choice near impossible to make. Kevin took her hand, squeezing once more. "I know this is a stupid decision but it's the only one I can take."
"Fine," she gave up. Kevin's pained grimace lightened up. "But you let me take care of the bandaging this time."
The makeshift splint worked wonders. As they waltzed and swirled gracefully across the floor, his expression was serene, enraptured in the moment, as if the pain was but a distant memory. One two three. One two three. Stacey breathed deeply as they spun on and on, fighting the usual dizziness. Unlike the Paso Doble, most of the Viannese Waltz was done in hold. She could keep an eye on Kevin as he led her down the floor and up again.
For a moment, she dared to hope that maybe she had been right to let him try.
Unfortunately, she'd forgotten the lift that closed the dance. It was so gentle and delicate, the whole thing had escaped her mind but as she walked up the stairs and jumped into his arms, reality caught up instantly.
Kevin whimpered and his leg gave out under him. There was a sudden gasp from the audience as the dancer fell heavily to the ground and didn't get back up. Stacey immediately rushed to his side, patting his face. " Kevin! " But he was unconscious.
Footsteps rushed forward, the security team which was always on standby, took over.
"Kevin, can you hear us mate? Squeeze my hand if you can." Stacey was pulled to the side by Tess but she couldn't look away from her partner's blank features.
"He hurt his left ankle earlier." she shouted, over the rising chaos.
A man nodded and then Kevin was pulled onto a stretcher. She went to follow them but the tall blonde held her back. "It's ok, they've got him. He's going to be fine, sweetheart."
Stacey could say nothing, staring blankly as her partner disappeared behind a set of black doors. He better be, she thought.
Because I let this happen.
3 HOURS LATER…
"You are an idiot!"
"I know, I know."
"Broken in five different places, that is not what I would call ' fine ', Kevin!"
"I didn't think it was that bad."
The young man was laid onto a hospital bed, his left leg raised and wrapped into a thick cast. He'd been given his own room and right now, Stacey was the only person inside. She paced angrily around the bed, gesturing widely.
"How did you even manage to stand up for so long?! Your bones were an inch away from piercing your skin!"
"...I heard." he said, looking ill at the mere mention of it. "I'm sorry, Stacey."
"You should be. You're the one always saying that real life comes first, that dancing is only meant to be fun!"
He nodded, unable to look at her.
She went on, exasperated. "You're the worst case of : do what I say, not what I do."
"It's just that," his voice grew incredibly soft, eyes suddenly distant. "Dancing is my life." He looked at her. "It's all I've done for so long and somehow you've made it feel brand new and interesting again. I couldn't give up after everything you've accomplished. It wasn't fair."
"Kevin, as much as I love the competition and trying my best, you will always come first. Your health matters a whole lot more to me than a trophy shaped like a giant silver ball."
She made him snort. "It does look a bit silly."
"Yes it does, because it's meant to be. This whole show is a bit silly because it's about fun and entertainment, not skill and definitely not cutthroat mentality. I don't care if we win or not but I wanted to give it my best for you. Because I know how hard you've worked all these years."
"It shouldn't be about me." he frowned, confused.
"Of course it should. You're the one accompanying me every step of the way, you're the one organising the choreography, the music, the outfits, the props, ...! And that's while giving me classes 7 hours every day. Honestly, I don't know how you do it."
Kevin smiled, shaking his head but said nothing. He looked much better now, less sweaty and grey. She went for her tote bag. "Well, I guess now's as good a time as any…" and pulled out the large glitter ball trophy, dropping it proudly onto his side desk.
The room fell silent.
Kevin looked at the glitter ball with wide, confused eyes then back at Stacey. "You're joking."
She let the joy and excitement she'd been holding back explode. She rushed and pulled him into a hug. "We won, Kev!"
Her partner pushed her back. "What?!"
Stacey beamed, hoisting the trophy into his hands and Kevin's face went beet red. "You did it, we won!"
He turned the trophy around in his hands, finally reading the plaque. He immediately choked down a sob, hand pressed against his lips and tears forming in his eyes. Then he dropped it beside him and swung his arms around her, pressing his face into her shoulder. She could feel him shaking. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"You've deserved this." She cheered, trying very hard not to start crying too. "Just never scare me like that again."
He hiccuped, laughing again, squeezing her even harder. When he pulled back, his cheeks were stained with tear tracks but his grin was the widest she'd even seen.
They'd won.
She'd never thought a silly dancing competition could matter that much.