Chapter Text
Rayla tried to ignore the cameras, attempting to appear natural.
For the tenth time that day, she questioned her decision to agree to this whole thing. She was a serious, professional dancer, she didn’t do silly gimmicks.
Bills needed to be paid though, and this opportunity certainly more than covered her bills.
Dancing with the Royal Stars! A Christmas Spectacular!
A few months intensive work training up some pain in the ass royals so they could swan about in front of a camera, buttering up their besotted fans. It wasn’t exactly her idea of fun, but she’d certainly had worse gigs.
If things went well, she might get a steady job out of this thing too. It’d be nice to know she’d have a stable income to rely on. It wouldn’t mean an end to auditioning and looking for work, but her Christmases at the very least might be accounted for.
In a few minutes, she was going to meet whichever spoilt brat of a prince she’d be spending the next few months with, and the anticipation was getting to her. They’d been kept away from the guests, the producers waffling on about genuine reactions and the like. She wasn’t an actor per se, but she knew how to put on a face. The very out of season Christmas decorations helped to at least set the weird and out there tone.
None of this seemed real, least of all the fact she’d been spending days on end with an actual prince (who even had a monarchy in this day and age?!). So sure, “snow” and Christmas trees when it was only just about jacket weather merely added to the out there nature of where she’d found herself.
It was all happening now and she needed to get her game on. Look surprised but delighted, smile brightly at whomever she was assigned to.
Grin for the camera and appear overjoyed, regardless of who she got.
For their part, the guests looked to be experiencing a wide range of emotions. Excited to arrogant to nervous.
She’d done her research, of course. All these royals lived somewhat public lives, whether they wanted to or not. Not that she thought that gave her any real insight into who they were truly, but some of them definitely had a reputation—
“Prince Callum of Katolis you will be dancing with…”
The host, Gren, drew out the pause, looking around for a reaction from everyone.
For his part, Prince Callum looked nervous and on edge, shifting on his feet and grimacing more than smiling.
“… Rayla!”
She breathed a sigh of relief, smiling wider as she walked towards him. She’d definitely hoped she’d get assigned to Katolis, but she hadn’t wanted to set herself up for a letdown.
Callum wasn’t much taller than her and he looked decently fit with broad, defined shoulders. He was the youngest contestant, and she was the most inexperienced dancer. There felt like less of a power imbalance, than compared to some of the older, more confident looking royals.
Callum was very good looking too, with a strong jaw and big green eyes, though his wild hair needed work. As dancers, they’d be a decent match physically and she had to admit they’d look good together, which was half the battle sometimes.
If he was an anyway decent dancer, they might go far enough.
She knew from various social media sites that he had a respectable number of admirers, which hopefully they could draw on. Being a young, handsome prince who seemed to actually be a talented artist in his own right were all points in their favour.
All in all, she’d been hoping to be assigned to Callum, and she breathed a sigh of relief to find she actually had been.
He smiled awkwardly as she stepped up alongside him, bowing his head slightly but otherwise not really moving.
Her eyes darted to the couple beside them, remembering how Osato had taken Fareeda’s hand and kissed the back of it.
It very much did not look like Callum was one for those sort of gestures and truthfully, she found them cringey herself. Instead, she smiled back at him, stepping alongside him and gesturing to the camera practically shoved in their faces. Callum looked between her and the camera, seeming a little lost and she felt a twinge of sympathy for him.
Surely, he’d be better at this than her. He did grow up in the public eye after all.
Continuing to smile, she waved at the camera, trying to subtly indicate Callum do the same. To her relief, he did at least wave awkwardly, though the wince on his face could hardly be described as a smile.
The rest of the assignments went by in a blur, and she allowed herself to zone out as the various couples greeted each other, her mind already on tomorrow and the long hours required to get a novice dancer up to speed. She perked up once the assignments finished and Gren, changed the subject.
“And now…the style of your first dance…” He looked around the room, grinning as he drew the moment out as long as possible. “The salsa!”
Rayla relaxed a little, seeing most of the other dancers react similarly. They’d been given three possible dances so they could get ahead of the choreography, and she’d been hoping for salsa first up. The salsa was a pretty forgiving dance. If Callum proved any kind of dancer, they could certainly make it more elaborate, but if he was only halfway decent, they should be able to at least muddle their way through.
All things considered, today had gone better than she’d ever hoped. Things were definitely looking up.
“Okay, let’s start over.” Rayla tried desperately not to stomp over to her phone.
She’d come to the rehearsal space nervous, but excited to start. While the routine was short in the first round, they didn’t have long to get this dance learned and then perfected. They needed to get the basics down as quickly as possible and then build on that.
The issue wasn’t the routine though. It was Callum. She thought she was prepared for any type of dancer, but Callum was… awful. Even warm-ups had been painful. Wasn’t it harder to move out of rhythm?!
To top that off, he was grumpy and irritable. She was not what anyone would describe as a morning person, but Callum acted like he’d been dragged to rehearsals kicking and screaming. He was constantly looking away, looking around, seemingly bored or distracted.
It was like he was purposefully trying to annoy her.
Taking a deep breath, she restarted the song, the jaunty, up-beat tune very much at odds with the frigid atmosphere inside the room.
She needed to be more patient. Callum probably felt totally out of his depth and dancing in front of a whole audience of people was likely really daunting for him. Maybe he was just nervous? By his own admittance, he was new at this. She’d already seen from the introductions that he was awkward as hell too. It wasn’t like he would be messing up on purpose.
He also seemed a little intimidated by the salsa. She had toned the choreography down as much as possible, judging his self-consciousness at their first meeting to be genuine, but he was acting like a schoolboy, flushing and looking away even at the parts of the dance where they held hands initially. He looked like he was going to die when she had shown him some of the lifts.
Particularly the one where he needed to hold her upside down along his thigh while she did the splits—
Seeing his wide eyes and immediate grimace, she elected to leave that one for tomorrow.
At least.
They’d only just met, and it didn’t seem like they had much of anything in common. This might all be teething problems… she hoped.
All in all, Callum was very different to what she’d been expecting. She had assumed he was going to be a spoiled prince, full of himself and arrogant. He was on various eligible bachelor lists, so she hadn’t expected him to be so… prissy about lifts, never mind holding her waist or, hell, even her hands. She already made a mental note to wear a longer top tomorrow, but she was struggling not to get worried. They really didn’t have that long until their live performance and, well, things were not going well.
“Sorry,” Callum sounded sullen, which just grated her nerves more.
He could not honestly be this bad, could he?
“Okay,” she hurried over to him as the music resumed, assuming the dance position and nodding for him to do the same. “How about we just continue to practice the basic steps first and then add things from there.”
He’d pick things up soon.
He had to.
“Hey,” Callum juggled his phone, a bag of jelly tarts, and his keycard, somehow managing not to drop anything as he pushed his way inside his hotel room.
“Hey!” Ezran looked happy, his bubbly voice and delighted expression forcing what felt like the first smile of the day from Callum. “How was day one of dance training?”
“Ugh,” Callum threw the jelly tarts down on the side table and continued into the lounge area. Flopping into one of the couches, he leaned his head back and threw his forearm over his eyes. “Over.”
“That doesn’t sound very positive,” Ezran remarked sarcastically.
“Sorry if I’m struggling to be positive about spending all day tripping over my own feet-”
“It’s your first day, it only makes sense if you’re struggling a bit.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Ezran laughed, seeming to think the whole thing amusing, which only served to make Callum’s foul mood worse.
“You’re reminding me of ballroom dancing classes back when we were kids. You remember Gerda?”
“This makes those classes look like a breeze. I never thought I’d miss Gerda,” Callum grumbled, huffing loudly. “Gerda didn’t glare at you all session.”
“Gerda glared at everyone.”
“Okay, true,” Callum conceded, “but at least there were other people to glare at. I’m getting unfiltered, concentrated glares here.”
“From that Rayla girl?” Ezran sounded sceptical.
“Yeah, who else?”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“It’s just…she looks so sweet and nice.”
“Well, she’s not.” Callum frowned at the room, remembering vividly Rayla’s clipped tone and barely concealed eye rolls. “She’s snappy and impatient.”
He felt even more awkward and embarrassed when she scoffed at how uncomfortable he was with having to touch her, never mind having to do those crazy lifts she had planned. Did she really not understand how daunting it was to have to be so close and intimate with someone you’d just met?
“She shouldn’t be snappy and impatient, but it’s probably hard for her. She’s a professional dancer, right? It might be hard for her understanding just how difficult this stuff is for regular people.”
“Don’t sign up to teach regular people then!” Callum scoffed. Ezran’s empathy and understanding was not helping with his mood.
“Good point.” Ezran paused, clearly thinking carefully about his next words. “You are trying though, right? I know you kinda got pushed into this thing, but you really should try to make the most of it. You get to spend a couple of months in Lux Aurea, get to learn some new skills—”
“Get to be out of Viren’s hair while they’re drafting this bill.”
“That’s not your dance partner’s fault.”
“I didn’t say it was, but the sooner I’m out, the sooner I’m home and can annoy Viren again.”
“The bill is going to take longer to sort than this show stuff.”
“This time is the most important time!” Once again, Callum’s frustration with the entire situation was souring his mood. “And where am I? Off doing setentas in some lavish studio.”
“Setentas?”
Callum rolled his eyes. “It’s just a move—”
“At least you’re picking up the terminology,” Ezran offered, clearly trying to be helpful.
“Well, it’s the only thing I’m picking up, it seems.” Callum mumbled under his breath.
“Anyway, you know me and dad are involved in all this debate, right? It’s not the country against Viren.”
Taking a deep breath, Callum tried to let go of some of his frustration. “Yeah, well… I’d prefer to be there.”
“And we’d prefer you be here too, Callum,” Ezran did sound genuine, which only made Callum miss home more. “Stop worrying about us, enjoy yourself and try to pick up something new.”
“I don’t think it’s going to matter whether I try or not, I can’t imagine anyone else is worse than me.” Sighing Callum got up and made his way over to the table to where he’d dumped his jelly tarts. He wasn’t exactly a pastry person, but they reminded him of home, and he needed that right now.
“You don’t know that—”
“And Viren’s going to have a whole bunch of other stuff to annoy me about too.” Biting into his jelly tart, Callum glared at the room. “I bet Soren is coming up with some new stupid nicknames as we speak. He was already telling me he wanted to get the “miss step prince” hashtag trending.”
“I think Soren’s pretty jealous of you actually-”
Callum scoffed, misting a cloud of pastry crumbs over the counter. “Yeah, right.”
“Once he saw you get partnered with Rayla—”
Callum rolled his eyes, trying not to think of Rayla.
“She’s very pretty,” Ezran continued.
“Pretty mean—”
Which was true.
Though she was pretty. Very pretty. Dancing with her was embarrassing because, even though she was mean and snappy and annoying, well, she was gorgeous. And slim and athletic and he had to touch her and at some point, do what looked like impossibly and insanely compromising lifts with her—
Every part of this ridiculous dance thing felt designed to make his like as embarrassing and painful as possible.
Ezran continued, clearly pretending he hadn’t heard Callum interrupt. “And I’m sure once you’ve got a bit more practice, you guys will get on better and you’ll feel more positive about things.”
“Well, I hope so,” Callum sighed, staring out the window and the misty rain falling softly outside, very much trying not to think about tomorrow. “I can’t imagine it being any worse than today.”
“Again!” Rayla picked up her phone, re-starting the song as she took deep, calming breaths.
How was Callum not getting this?! How could someone lack the ability to just step in time? She’d seen babies with better rhythm.
Maybe even some internet dogs.
“Can we take a break?” Callum sighed, rolling his eyes and practically sneering at her.
He likely thought she couldn’t see his contemptuous look, seeming to constantly forget the mirrors that surrounded them on all sides.
Or maybe he didn’t care? He was a prince after all; he probably wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone or hiding how he felt about other people and their opinions.
“We don’t have time to take a break,” Rayla turned to look at him, folding her arms over her chest. “We’ve only got four days until show time and we have to start bringing in the lifts.”
“I really don’t think lifts are a good idea,” Callum frowned, once again looking flustered.
Rayla remembered showing him videos of the lifts she had planned for their dance, and how he had grimaced at every single one. “We need lifts—”
“Why?”
Once again that whiny tone. In fact, he almost sounded like he was pleading.
Because you are stiff as a board and we need to distract the audience from that—
Rayla bit her tongue, wracking her brain for a diplomatic way to phrase her thinking. “People expect lifts. And the judges score based on them-”
“What will the judges score if I drop you on your head?” Callum didn’t actually sound whiny or childish this time. He sounded concerned.
“They look a lot more crazy than they are, trust me.” Rayla walked over to him, electing to make a change of pace. Maybe Callum was getting frustrated doing the same steps over and over again.
She sure was.
“Come on,” she nodded at the mats in the corner. “The first one is probably the easiest—”
Callum dutifully followed her over, his head bowed. “What did that look like again?”
Scrolling the appropriate clip, Rayla held up her phone for him. Truthfully, it was a relatively easy lift, especially for Callum. He essentially had to just stand still, while she did all the work.
Which seemed to be how the dance in general was working out.
“So, you’ll be supporting me,” Rayla explained, slowing the clip down so Callum could get a better look, “but you’re not really doing anything other than moving you head for the first bit, then supporting my waist as I swing around.”
Callum looked horrified as he watched the move on the screen. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Well, at least try—” As usual, she struggled to keep the frustration from her voice.
“Rayla—”
“It’s either a few lifts or you’re going to have to learn some moves that are more than stepping in time.”
She didn’t add the “or trying to step in time” that was on the edge of her tongue.
Callum pushed a hand through his hair, the thick strands damp with sweat. “Fine.”
“Okay, we’ll go slow and speed up from there,” Rayla stood next to him, “let’s not bother with the spin, just the lift.”
“Okay,” Callum said, sounding genuinely nervous.
“Okay, so, I’m going to hook my knee into your thigh and then you hoist me over your shoulder, then I’ll swing my legs behind your head, and hook them around your opposite hip. All you have to do is move your head, then wrap your arm around my waist, all right?”
“All I have to do—” Callum mumbled under his breath.
Ignoring him, Rayla stepped forward, resting her weight on the balls of her feet as she leaned into Callum’s side. “All right, right arm under my butt and lift me up-”
“What?!” Callum flushed bright red, leaning back. “You said all I have to do is move my head!”
“All you have to do once the lift is in motion, we have to get it in motion,” Rayla rolled her eyes. “Now, butt.”
Callum somehow went even redder but dutifully moved his hand to what was more accurately described as her lower back.
Scoffing, Rayla grabbed his hand and placed it under her left butt cheek and held it in place, even as Callum squeaked like a strangled cat.
“And lift!” She insisted, bouncing up and not leaving time for Callum to pull his hand away or protest.
For once, he didn’t argue, lifting her up and onto his shoulder, like in the clip she’d shown him.
“Now, head forward,” Rayla grunted, watching his movements in the mirrors.
Callum did as instructed, allowing her two swing her legs around his head. With more effort than normal for this type of lift, she pushed herself off his shoulder, opening her legs so that she could grip him around the hips on the down swing.
“Arm!”
Callum seemed to at least have more of an instinct for lifts than dancing, grabbing her firmly around the waist as she came down.
With a little more force that she’d have liked, she bumped his hip, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to help him keep her up as she hooked her legs behind his back.
Callum’s eyes went wide as he flushed bright red, his eyes darting down then back to her face and the next thing she knew she was flat on her back on the mat, the heavy weight of Callum firmly on top of her. He let out a muffled groan, trying to extract his hand from where it was trapped under her back.
Letting her legs fall on to the mat, Rayla arched her back, attempting to help Callum free himself. This seemed to only panic him more, if his startled squeaks were anything to go off, though he did at least manage to get his hand out.
“Are you okay?!” He shuffled back rapidly, staring at her wide eyed as Rayla pushed herself up.
She laughed at him, his horrified reaction amusing. Almost cute. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She waved him off, already mentally going through what had worked and what hadn’t—
“I told you we shouldn’t do lifts!” Callum insisted, running a hand through his hair again.
Rayla scoffed, getting to her feet and offering him a hand up. “That was pretty good for a first go.” She nodded at him, attempting to convey he should get back in position.
Callum blinked rapidly, seeming a little lost for words before he caught himself. “Pretty good? I dropped you on your head!”
“Hmm, more on my back.” Rayla struggled not to laugh at how flustered Callum seemed. He was acting like an embarrassed schoolboy. “But the last lift has much more potential for head drops, so let’s make sure we’re confident of this one before moving on.”
Callum sighed as he buttoned up his shirt. Today was their dress rehearsal and he was not feeling any more confident of the dance than on day one. Sure, he had managed to actually get the hang of the lifts, but he kept forgetting steps and he felt hopelessly lost.
“How’s it going in there?” Rayla asked from outside the curtain.
“Fine,” Callum huffed, looking at himself in the mirror. His “costume” was pretty normal really. Nothing too embarrassing. A pair of khaki slacks and a Hawaiian shirt. It went with the up-beat tone of the song, but more importantly, it was far more normal than some of the outfits he’d seen previous contestants wear. At the very least, he had a shirt on.
“Can we see?”
As usual, there was an edge to Rayla’s voice, and he rolled his eyes in the privacy of the change room before pulling back the curtain to show off what had been selected for him.
Then stopped abruptly upon seeing Rayla’s costume.
Her skirt and top were clearly chosen to match his shirt, the blue-green picking up foliage in his shirt. The colour of it wasn’t the issue though.
She was wearing an incredibly short skirt, with dangling fringe-y material, which would have been daunting enough on its own, but her top was essentially a very fancy and sparkly bra with more of that fringe material along the band.
He flushed bright red, realising he was staring, immediately glancing away from where she stood openly appraising him.
“You think the blue is the right colour?” Lujanne, the costumer, pondered, apparently speaking to Rayla, without regard for him. “Reds and pinks are more traditional for the salsa.”
Rayla nodded, pursing her lips. “The tone goes better with his eyes.”
Lujanne chuckled, shaking her head. “The audience is not going to be looking at the boy’s eyes, Rayla.”
She shrugged, finally acknowledging Callum. “How’s it feel?”
He sighed, looking back at the mirror. “Fine.”
Lujanne had explained that the costume was made of stretcher fabric than regular clothes, but it didn’t exactly feel like that was something Callum needed. He was painfully aware of how stiff and rigid his “dancing” was.
And made even more aware of that by Rayla’s frequent reminders to loosen up.
Which was going to be made infinitely more difficult if he had to dance with her dressed like that. He felt embarrassed and awkward dancing with her in her leggings and crop top combos, but there was a lot more skin exposed in this outfit.
Rayla took a deep breath, nodding at him in the mirror. “Okay, let’s give it a run through, shall we?”
“Look up!” Rayla sing-songed the instruction, but Callum did not miss the impatient tone.
Truthfully, he didn’t know where to look. Looking at his feet (what he was usually comfortable doing) exposed him to, well, all of Rayla and her teeny tiny costume, but looking up and at her face constantly felt weird—
“Pretzel-turn into sidestep,” Rayla called out the names she’d adopted when he’d got confused with their official, dance-y names.
Callum winced, already anticipating this. He lifted his hands along with Rayla as she spun into him, leaning her back against his chest before finally pulling both their hands down in front of her body. He tried very much not to wince as she pulled their hands against her waist.
Her very bare waist.
“Lift!”
Callum grit his teeth as he bent down, allowing Rayla to hook a leg over the back of his head. Standing up, he tried to remain solid as she somehow flipped the other leg behind her, spinning in the air as he moved his hand to support her weight before she righted herself. Landing lightly, Rayla beamed at him, the gesture seeming genuine.
“Freestyle!”
He shook himself, trying to get back in time as she stood back to allow him to show off. Or so she said. Truthfully, he felt like an idiot awkwardly fumbling on the dance floor while Rayla stood back. She was doing essentially all the actual dancing, and he suspected she needed a breather for a few seconds, before they launched into the next sequence.
“Together!” She joined him, the smile from before replaced with a much more practiced one.
He tried to move in time with her, hoping, as always, that people would be far more interested in watching Rayla dance than his pathetic fumbling behind her.
“Spin into final lift!”
Callum took as deep a breath as he could muster, helping Rayla spin on the ball of her foot in a crouched position before she got up. As practiced, he leaned over her front, wrapping one arm around her back while Rayla kicked into the air, performing splits upside down in front of him. Perpetually embarrassed by everything involving this dance, he grabbed her by her thigh, rolling her through the movements so she could kick out in front of them both, then use that momentum and his help to propel herself upwards. Grimacing, he prepared for what was next… Rayla doing the splits, a leg either side of his, well, shoulders but it was still perilously close to his face—
With no time to dwell on that, he slid his arm down to her lower back, supporting her as she finished the sequence, landing on one foot then the other, one of her arms wrapping around his waist. Dutifully, he raised an arm in the air and moved to grab her waist but somehow missed, getting a handful of her rear just as the music came to a stop.
“Sorry!” He jumped back, somehow even more embarrassed than he ever thought possible.
Rayla waved him off, not even seeming to notice. She stepped back and grabbed both their water bottles, handing him his before she took a drink of her own. “Not bad,” she mumbled breathlessly. “You’re really doing well with the lifts.”
Callum chugged his water, relishing the frigid liquid. He did not feel like he was doing well with any of this. “Thanks.”
“Take five and then we’ll go again,” Rayla nodded at him.
Callum flopped onto his bed, hair wet and skin still damp after his shower. He was exhausted, his muscles weary and tired from day after day of practice.
He groaned as his phone began to ring, contemplating letting the call go to voicemail before begrudgingly sitting up and grabbing the device. Ezran’s name flashed on screen, which didn’t surprise him.
Sighing, he answered the call as he collapsed back onto the bed. “Hey.”
“Hey!” Ezran looked positively giddy, his voice bright and playful. “How are you doing? Show day tomorrow!”
Callum groaned, closing his eyes and huffing.
“Not feeling optimistic?” Ezran offered, still sounding amused and up-beat.
“No,” Callum answered flatly, sitting up as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “But at least that probably means I’ll be home soon.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“If anything, it’s probably worse.” Sighing, Callum got up, making his way to the mini bar and deciding to indulge in a beer. Maybe it would help to take the edge off? It wasn’t like he wanted to win tomorrow, or even remain in the competition, but humiliating himself in front of so many people was daunting enough.
“Did you get to see the other couples?”
Callum shook his head, taking a sip of his beer and sighing as the cold liquid soothed his throat. “No, they keep it all secret.”
“Then you don’t know—”
“Ez, there’s no way anyone else is worse than me.” Callum massaged the bridge of his nose as he tried to convince Ezran. It wasn’t exactly fun admitting just how bad he was at all this, but it was better than Ezran and his dad, hell, maybe the entire country deluding themselves and thinking he’d some kind of shot at even making it to the next round.
“Callum—”
“But honestly, it’s fine. I don’t care. I’m looking forward to coming home and forgetting about this whole weird experience.”
There was a long pause as Ezran watched him closely, clearly trying to think of what to say.
“And I’m fine with that.” He insisted, not wanting Ezran to feel bad or worry about him. “I never wanted to do this thing in the first place, remember?”
“What about Rayla?”
Callum frowned, surprised by the change of subject. “What about her?”
“Well, what happens to her if you’re voted off?”
“I—” Callum shrugged. “I dunno. She goes home too, I guess. Wherever home is for her.”
“You don’t know?” Ezran looked genuinely surprised.
“No.” Callum tried not to visibly squirm under Ezran’s well disguised disapproval. “We don’t really talk about that sort of stuff. Or, well, anything.”
“You spend all day together and don’t talk about stuff?”
“We talk about dancing,” Callum rolled his eyes, not needing this on top of his other woes.
Ezran took a breath as if to say something, before he shook himself and smiled gently. “Well, I just wanted to call and wish you luck, I suppose. Dad wants to call again tomorrow, before you go on, but I thought you might want to talk tonight too.”
Callum forced a smile, genuinely grateful, even if he was exhausted and some of Ezran’s questions made him feel a creeping guilt he didn’t want to address. “Thanks, Ez.”
“I’ll let you have an early night, and we’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sounds good.” Smiling genuinely, Callum was at least happy about the fact he’d be home soon. Seeing his brother in person. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Callum.” Ezran smiled and waved before the screen went blank.
Callum sighed, dropping the phone on to the couch, before taking another drink of his beer.
It wasn’t too big a deal that he didn’t really know much about Rayla. It wasn’t like she asked him any personal questions or seemed interested in getting to know him any better.
Rayla was… Rayla.
There were times where she seemed funny and nice, but they were few and far between. Usually, she was irritable and impatient. He was sick of being snapped at and ordered around.
Bombing out on the first round might not have been something she was looking forward to, but she likely wanted this whole thing over just as much as he did.
Come tomorrow evening, they’d both be going their separate ways and they could put this ridiculous mess behind them.
Callum pulled at his collar, feeling twitchy and uncomfortable. The music for Fareeda and Osato’s dance had just come to a finish, and the audience reception said it all. The crowd cheered and whooped, clearly delighted by what they’d just seen.
And now he and Rayla were up. He’d assumed they were going to struggle to capture the audience support, but going after that performance, well, somehow, he was even more nervous now.
He took another sip of water, painfully thirsty but not wanting to be full and heavy while he tried desperately to dance in front of a group of people, television cameras, and three judges. The Christmas trees were back, which still felt incredibly out of place, but at least the weather was a bit more wintery than when he’d first been here—
Rayla took a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically fidgety and nervous. Turning to him, she reached forward and adjusted his collar.
“Listen, I get it’s daunting, but you’ve been doing… better in rehearsals every day.” Smiling awkwardly, Rayla continued, “I know the costumes and that make it seem scarier and more real, but it’ll be the same as rehearsing, okay?”
“If, by rehearsing you mean “rehearsing if there were a bunch of cameras and a whole audience of people”, yeah, sure.” Callum resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, not wanting to mess up what the hairdresser had spent forty minutes carefully sculpting.
Rayla sighed softly, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It’s— I understand that you’re nervous, but—”
He looked at her, hoping desperately for some reassuring words.
“—just don’t be, okay?” Rayla finished, slapping him lightly on the upper arm.
Was this her idea of reassuring? Just… don’t be nervous? She had to be kidding.
Realising no further words of encouragement were coming, he sighed heavily. “Thanks.”
He really didn’t want to do this, but it was far too late to back out now. Not only would the audience hate him, but it would also reflect terribly on his father. He needed to grin and bear it, push through. Bow out like he was clearly going to and put this mess behind him. Hopefully he didn’t hideously embarrass himself and the whole of Katolis in the process.
“For our second dance tonight,” the host, Gren sounded characteristically happy and up-beat, “we have Prince Callum of Katolis and his lovely partner, Rayla!”
“And go!” Marcos, some kind of stagehand Callum presumed, gestured for them to walk through the curtains.
Feeling sick to his stomach, Callum forced himself to walk out into the bright lights. Rayla smiled her practiced stage smile, glancing at him and raising her eyebrows, clearly indicating he do the same. Callum forced a smile, jumping only a little when Rayla took his hand. He could see her waving out of the corner of his eye, and he did the same as they descended the stairs and stepped onto the dance floor.
The lights dimmed as they took up their position, waiting for the director as he gave out some instructions.
“Here goes nothing,” Rayla took a deep breath, stepping close to him and taking his hands in hers. “Just remember to smile,” she instructed, plastering on her fakest stage smile possible.
Callum grimaced at her, hoping it looked something like a smile. “At least it’ll be over soon.”
Rayla smiled even wider, her eyes flashing briefly, angrily, and Callum felt a twinge of guilt.
That probably wasn’t exactly a winning attitude. Before he could apologise or explain, the lights went up
The music started, and he took a deep breath as he prepared to move.
The dance seemed to go on forever while also over in a flash. He couldn’t really see the audience with all the lights in his face and he was desperately watching Rayla anyway, trying to follow her lead, to remember his steps based off hers. Occasionally she’d look at him, the fake smile plastered on her face and he’d remember himself, hoping his smile didn’t look as pained as hers.
He at least managed not to drop her on her head during their lifts, but he somehow felt even more embarrassed when her legs flipped around his head and he had to grab her around the waist. Even in the chaos of the dance, he imagined Soren laughing at him, teasing him later—
He did manage to hit his final pose on time and as the music ended, but Rayla had to nod sharply at him before he remembered to smile.
The theme music started up, and they didn’t even get a drink before they were ushered over to the judge’s table. He sighed, wishing he’d feel relieved as he struggled to catch his breath, but from the look in Rayla’s eyes, the only thing he felt was dread.
He was not looking forward to hearing the judge’s assessment of his performance, but he at least contented himself with the fact it was essentially impossible they’d make it through to the next round.
For better or worse, this whole ordeal ended tonight.
Rayla stood close to Callum, but only for the cameras. She forced a smile, struggling not to glare at him.
She knew she shouldn’t blame him for being nervous, but his dancing tonight had been woeful. Like she’d said, he had been doing better in rehearsals, but it seemed like he forgot everything they’d worked on as soon as the music started.
“Well,” Ibis, the first judge winced, clearly feeling sorry for them. “You certainly got off to an… interesting start.”
Rayla’s stomach churned as she tried desperately to think of something witty to say. There was no salvaging their woeful performance, but she could at least be funny or engaging now. Her mind drew an absolute blank though, as she became even more painfully aware of the camera.
“Where should we start,” Ibis glanced at the other judges. “The good parts?” He paused for a moment, drawing out the drama. “Well, the lifts were genuinely impressive. Rayla, we all know you’re a talented dancer, and you clearly taught Callum well when it came to lifts, but, unfortunately, they weren’t really enough to save this dance.”
Rayla nodded, knowing that was true.
“Prince Callum,” Ibis looked to Callum, appearing sombre beside her. “I realise you are new to dancing and while you did perform the lifts well on a technical level, you looked terrified the entire time. I think we saw you smile once?” He looked to the other judges for confirmation. “I’m sure it’s a steep learning curve, but I’m afraid I can only award you a three for tonight’s performance.” Ibis held up his paddle, an exaggerated pout on his lips.
Rayla nodded, smiling in what she hoped was a grateful manner as her stomach dropped.
“I have to agree with Ibis,” Akiyu chimed in, her fingers drumming on the paddle in front of her. “You made a valiant effort to choreograph around the, uh, challenges, Rayla,” Akiyu grimaced, “but ultimately, much of the dance was you dancing around Prince Callum while he struggled to step in time. It’s a three from me too.”
Rayla tried to smile, shame and embarrassment making it feel almost impossible. This was even more painful than her worst nightmares. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her, the excruciating agony of being forced to stand and smile while they were torn apart truly horrible.
“I’m not sure there’s much I can say that hasn’t already been said,” Lyrennus, the final judge sighed. “There were moments of inspiration, but ultimately, I think you will agree with me that this was not a good performance.”
Lifting his paddle, Rayla could no longer maintain her smile as the two flashed before her eyes. She felt rooted to the spot, her throat tight as she burned with shame and embarrassment.
“Thank you.”
Callum spoke tersely, starting Rayla out of her stupor.
Glancing at her, he gestured to the chairs in the corner where they were to sit while awaiting the rest of the dances.
Rayla tried not to look at the crowd as she took her seat. The set was being fixed for the next couple and so the onlookers were talking amongst themselves. She couldn’t help but feel like they were all staring at her, laughing and giggling.
Judging her.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, but it very much felt like Callum hadn’t. Even tonight he looked sullen and miserable, barely cracking a smile. She didn’t think she’d be able to bear watching their performance, but she imagined they looked ridiculous in all possible aspects.
Callum sat beside her, practically radiating annoyance, a pinched look on his face—
The night felt like it dragged as the other couples performed their routines. Rayla hadn’t held out any hopes that they would place anywhere but last, but as the judges gave their scores, she couldn’t help but squirm at how very far down the rankings there were. The next lowest score was a solitary four, which even Rayla thought was a bit harsh.
The lights dimmed for the final performance and Rayla was grateful that this would all be over soon. She could go home and lick her wounds, safe in the knowledge she’d never have to see Prince Callum of Katolis ever again. He hadn’t even spoken to her after their dance, not that she had an interest in engaging him in conversation.
The theme music hummed in the background, as Gren took up his place, announcing Prince Karim and his partner Miyana.
Rayla had to admit, they did look good together, even if there was something a little smug, maybe even arrogant about Karim.
As soon as they started dancing, she begrudgingly had to admit Karim likely had cause to be arrogant. He was an excellent dancer, likely to top even Fareeda and Osato. They danced well together, Karim’s technical skills obvious and far above any of the other guest dancers.
The dance approached the crescendo, Miyana turning into Karim as he lifted her into the air, spinning her around his shoulders—
Rayla hissed, recognising the mistake, along with the other dancers, though not the audience.
Karim’s hand placement was off, and Miyana tumbled off his back, grabbing him by the shoulder in order to save herself. They landed in a heap on the floor, Karim pushing himself up immediately and glaring down at Miyana. A gasp rang out from the audience, and the prince quickly replaced the look with one approximating concern. He pulled Miyana to her feet in time for them to strike a final pose.
There was muted applause from the audience, everyone seemingly still shocked by what had happened. Rayla wasn’t sure if it was the fall that confused them, or the hateful reaction from Karim to his likely injured partner. It had all happened so quickly, and she wasn’t sure if it was obvious to the untrained eye.
Miyana stood next to Karim, a pained smile on her face and Rayla wondered if more than her pride was injured.
Gren hurried over to her, speaking softly in her ear as medics approached.
“Is she okay?” Callum asked, surprising Rayla.
“Hopefully,” Rayla replied, matter of factly. A fall like that was generally more jarring than painful.
Worse than that was having your partner not care about you. She’d had numerous falls over the years, some of them in competition but she’d never had a partner react like Karim. She and Callum decidedly did not get on, but even he showed concern when the lifts hadn’t gone to plan.
She saw Callum take a slow breath; his eyes fixed on Karim. “Karim is an ass.”
Despite herself, Rayla snorted, agreeing with Callum for once. Before she could comment, Miyana was waving the medics off, nodding at Gren as she took her place next to Karim.
He smiled at her, taking her hand and speaking softly to her, but even from their position across the room, Rayla could see the tension in Miyana’s body, the muted reaction to his platitudes.
He’d lost Miyana’s trust.
“And now, the final judges scores,” Gren announced when the director counted him out. “Ibis?”
Ibis practically radiated disgust, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Karim. “While you clearly got off to an almost flawless start, the finale of this dance was so… startling that I cannot overlook it. Miyana, you performed wonderfully and I hope you are unharmed, but” grasping his paddle Ibis narrowed his eyes at Karim, “your partner deserves nothing more than this.”
A two.
Rayla gasped, not expecting Ibis to punish Karim quite so harshly.
“I have to agree with Ibis,” Akiyu refused to look at Karim, directing her comments to Miyana solely. “Your performance was stunning, but that ending… it’s a two from me as well.”
Rayla glanced at Callum, unsurprised to see him gawking at her too.
There was no way—
Lyrennus shook his head, not even speaking as he raised his paddle.
The best so far, but only a three.
Karim grimaced at the judges, his jaw tense. Miyana glanced at him, clearly giving him an opportunity to speak before she elected to thank the judges herself.
Charismatic and upbeat as always, Gren turned to the camera as Karim and Miyana walked stiffly over to their seats.
“Some upsets here tonight!” Looking out over the studio audience, Gren paused for affect. “The results of the judges and audience have now been tallied. In first place, we had Fareeda and Osato, with a total of thirty-two out of a possible forty. In second place, we have Grark and Sabah on twenty-six. Third, Kasef and Astrid totalling twenty three. Fourth Callum and Rayla on twelve—”
Rayla turned to Callum, finding him frozen in shock and maybe even horror.
“Which means, leaving us tonight, with a combined total of eight points are Prince Karim and his lovely partner Miyana!”