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CHAPTER THREE
Four days later Micki waited backstage, dressed in a glittering, low cut, backless dance dress showcasing nearly all of her assets. She was used to scanty costumes, sky high heels and butterflies in her stomach. She checked on her partner again. Josh stood next to her, dressed in black pants and a shirt color coordinated to her clothing, with one slash of sequins on the shoulder. He’d refused to let the costumer put any more bling onto the fabric. He was as handsome as ever and Micki told herself the galactic audience would swoon and vote for them at least some of the time on the basis of Josh’s good looks. This week was purely introductions, however, no dancing and no scores.
Cold comfort. She wanted to win on the basis of her efforts as choreographer and teacher.
Josh was busy on his handheld, with Sydni standing by to retrieve it when he and Micki had to go out and be introduced as partners. Micki hoped the assistant wasn’t going to sit in on rehearsals too but she’d fight that battle when it arrived. Suddenly exasperated, she tugged the handheld away from him.
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and tried to get it back. The assistant director standing nearby hushed them.
“You need to concentrate on this for a few minutes,” Micki whispered, giving the handheld to Sydni. “Are you ready?”
“You assured me we’re not dancing tonight. Yes, I’m ready to walk out there and bow.” His tone was coldly amused.
They were the last couple to be introduced but the co-hosts were still talking, building up the suspense about who might have been cast for the special season, although of course the gossip and celebrity sites all over the Sectors had been speculating for weeks and pretty much guessed correctly. Finally the fanfare sounded and the first couple swept out onto the stage. The star was an older trideo actress, quite famous in her heyday, maybe hoping for a comeback. Micki knew the woman had been in several musicals in her early career so she guessed the star would do well, as long as the voting audience liked her.
The AD cued the couple next to them and Micki took a deep breath, pasted on her best Comettes’ happy expression and allowed Josh to take her hand. He was grinning boyishly, like he was honored to be here, rather than the business shark he’d been five minutes ago. Micki made a note to herself to remember how easily he could change his outer demeanor.
Andrus Kumisarc and Elsara Muir pushed past them, as comfortable as a pair who’d danced together for years instead of being new acquaintances. They matched nicely. As she strutted by on her way to the stage to be introduced, Elsara managed to snag Micki’s heel and only Josh’s iron grip kept her from a disastrous fall.
“I’m fine,” she said, trying to quiet her nerves. So the bitch wanted to play it dirty, did she? War had evidently been declared. Aware there was no love lost between the Benfields and Kumisarcs, she hadn’t expected an ISD dancer to try to sabotage her.
Lifting her head, she strutted onto the stage next to Josh as the cue was given, channeling all her Comettes’ training, as the announcers read off a few items from Josh’s resume and then made much of Micki’s status as an active Comette. Each couple had been given one move to make during their intro and now Josh twirled her expertly, making the glittering fringe on her hips flare out, catching the lights. He caught her to him firmly and then the rest of the couples came to join them, standing in a blingy, colorful line as the audience applauded and the show’s theme song blared.
“And we’re out,” the director said, making a cut motion. “Good job everyone. Now the hard part begins.” He walked off.
The co-hosts, a married pair of dancers who’d been extremely famous decades before, made a beeline to talk to the trideo star. Micki vaguely recalled they might have all been in a trideo together at one time. Most of the other dancers and their celebrities left the area to change and go about the rest of their evenings. The rehearsals started tomorrow. Josh waited for her but she could tell he was impatient to get back to his handheld and the waiting deals and business problems which were his real life.
“I’ll see you in the morning in the rehearsal room,” she said.
He barely acknowledged her as Sydni came rushing up, already talking about an urgent development in the latest mining buyout. Deflated, Micki stalked off. What an anticlimax after all the buildup. She didn’t know why she’d expected anything else. Having been involved in several big budget trideos she knew there was a lot of hurry up and wait in the entertainment business, and the camaraderie was usually all for the holo cameras, to be turned off like a faucet as soon as the scene or the bit was done. This was a big business. She missed the Comettes though—they were more of a genuine family for the most part.
Micki got changed, handed in her costume and headed into the gravlift, leaving Level C to go to her own crew quarters. She found flowers and a note from Tassia and Liam, which was sweet and a huge bouquet of exotic blooms from Josh. Carrying the two bouquets into her quarters, where they occupied the entire table in her kitchenette, she wished she could be more excited about Josh’s gift. The problem was she was sure Sydni had ordered them at his behest and there was nothing personal about it at all. Touching one bloom, admiring the colors, she sighed and headed off to take a shower and go to bed.
One week later she and Josh were standing on the stage again but the situation was dire. They’d just completed their first competitive dance, which ironically had been the same classic number he’d learned as a boy. Despite his familiarity with the demands of the discipline, she and Josh had only managed to accomplish a nice, safe variation. He’d shown up for practice every day as required by the contract, but made no extra effort and Sydni was always hovering with her handheld, ready to pipe up during any break. Micki hadn’t been able to add in much extra choreography because there wasn’t time to get Josh to a high enough level of performance on new moves. He left each day at the exact moment the mandatory rehearsal time was done. Couples were allowed to put in more time if they so desired but not to do less. The showrunner wanted competent performances as a minimum.
Now Micki was seething inwardly, although she maintained her perky stage demeanor as she and Josh waited for the elimination announcement. The panel of judges had been scathing about their performance, calling it technically acceptable but boring and safe. The other couples had taken their assigned classic dances and done much flashier, exciting routines.
Did Josh even care?
One other couple was called out to stand next to them in the elimination circle—the comedian, who’d fallen and dragged his partner with him during a tricky sequence of steps. Micki prayed to the Lords of Space the voting audience who had the final word on who stayed and who left would give her and her partner a break. Generational billionaires were fascinating to many people, a staple of romance trideos and the long running, complicated soap operas, so maybe the audience would want to see more of Josh, who was handsome and a living example of the fictional tropes.
The co-hosts built up the suspense with patter and Micki’s gut tightened as the ominous music finally played. Suddenly the comic and his partner were lifted into the air on an antigrav beam and literally left the show, being whisked away in a giant bubble.
She sagged and grabbed Josh’s arm, flooded with relief. It would have been so professionally embarrassing to leave after the first week. He hugged her and then the male co-host was in their faces. “How does it feel to come so close to being eliminated in week one?” he asked as the sound techs maneuvered their equipment to catch every word for the audience.
“We’ll bounce back next week,” she said confidently before Josh could speak. “I’m grateful to our viewers for giving us another chance and I promise to bring them something amazing at the next show.”
Josh gave her a bow. “I place all my trust in my partner.”
“And that’s it, folks, you heard the pledge for a spectacular performance in week two from Micki’s lips,” the co-host said, moving away to join his wife and close the show. “Tune in for next week’s show and see what Josh and Micki come up with as we continue our special interstellar cruise season.”
One minute later the broadcast ended and Micki tore her hand free from Josh’s and headed backstage. She was too upset to speak to him tonight.
A number of the Comettes had come to watch the show and support her and they were waiting backstage so she had to chat a while longer. Josh never came into the area so she guessed he and Sydni had gone straight to his office in his suite and picked up where they left off on the endless stream of business issues. Finally her friends left, disappointed at not meeting the billionaire, she was sure, and Micki was able to change, shower and head for her own quarters in comfortable clothing.
Her mood remained irritated as she ate a late dinner of reheated rations and when she went to bed she had no expectations for any dreams at all, let alone one of the special ones where she visualized a new dance. Delivering on her pledge to the viewers was going to be a challenge all right.
In the morning she was waiting for Josh in their assigned rehearsal room on Level C. She was all grim determination today. If he didn’t like what she was going to say, he could request a new partner. She was done with this unless he met her new terms. Micki did a few steps of the routine which had come to her in last night’s dream, despite her anger over the round one outcome. They’d been assigned an obscure folk dance, the tchirriki, from an outer Sectors world, and she’d done a little research before going to bed. The music was infectious in its appeal, which helped, and there were drums. She saw the entire routine in her dream, including the costumes and the set, which of course had to be minimal for an entertainment trideo.
