If Ever(45)

But after my spray tan on Monday, I put on my costume, and I'm ready to kill Dominic. It's a combination steam punk meets tribal. I'm wearing a leather bustier cinched so my boobs are pushed up like a Vegas showgirl. There's a sheer overskirt with a fringe border and I'm in high-heeled ankle boots. My makeup is dark lipstick and smoky eyes with my hair pulled up and crimped. I grumble and complain, but he insists it'll get us votes and when I whine to Tom on the phone he heartily agrees and can't wait to see it.

When show time rolls around, I'm a good kind of nervous for our number. Dominic is wearing high-waisted leather pants with a vest hanging open over his bare chest. He has a black cape that he whips wildly in an intricate pattern at the beginning of our number.

"You've got this. We're on a roll. Just focus on your aggression. No smiles."

I grin wide, just to stress him out.

"Stop thinking about your eye candy out in New York. He's there. You're here. Focus."

I stick my tongue out at him and he shakes his head. Our intro begins and we take our positions on the upper stage, both of us fixated on the next ninety seconds. The cameras are in place, the lights come up, and the house band plays. We open with a daring face off, then spin away from each other and glide down the stairs, while I dramatically swish my skirt and Dominic flips his cape in testosterone-filled dominance.

At the main floor, his cape catches and wraps around my ankle. I'm forced to step on his cape. It stops his forward motion. He trips and careens to the floor so fast that I have no time to react other than brace myself as I tumble on top of him.

"Shit!" he exclaims trying to untangle himself from the cape and my limbs.

"We don't look so intense now," I mumble as we scramble to our feet and the music plays on.

Dominic tosses the cape away, takes my hand and pulls me into hold, staring me in the eye with real intensity now. "We're fine, keep going!" We start forward, but my heel is caught in my overskirt and I can't take a full step.

"Dominic! My boot is stuck."

"Ignore it." He takes my hand and tries to lead me on, but I can't take a full step before being hung up. Our eyes lock in panic. I kick out with my foot, ripping the fabric, which gives me more mobility, but my boot is still caught and we're way behind the music.

"Keep going. Ignore it." He calls out the steps, something he hasn't done in several weeks. We're rushing to find our spot in the music, not to mention on the dance floor. The cameras scramble for angles because we're in all the wrong places.

It's useless. There's no way to save this dance. I start to giggle, and Dominic, who is trying hard to pull it together, glares at me for breaking character. But when I stumble against him when I can't take a full step, he glances down at my caught up boot, and sees the problem.

"Hold still." We stop in the middle of the catastrophe and he crouches to my feet, rips the fabric edging from my skirt, finally freeing my boot. He rises and we take up our proper hold, and continue with the dance, hopefully salvaging the last thirty seconds; but the trim he tore away is attached by a thread and trails after me like toilet paper stuck to my shoe.

I can't stop giggling and lose all concentration, forcing him to drag me through the final moves. At the end he sweeps me into a grand dip and holds the trailing fabric in the air as if in triumph.

After the obligatory five second hold, he lifts me to my feet and we crack up on our way to the judges' table.

I try to get serious, but one look at Dominic and we burst into laughter. His hand is at my side and we hunch over trying to get control, but it's no use. We're slap happy, and it's not going away.

Nikki LaFlash chuckles along with us. "I want to say nice recovery, but I guess the best I can do is say that at least you tried."

Stephen Harris shakes his head. "Such a shame. You two had just hit your stride."

Brice Zimmer rubs his goatee. "I would have liked to see how you did with that number, but sadly, we must score on what we saw, which was a whole lot of stumbling and fumbling."

Dominic pats me on the back, but neither of us is upset. When dismissed, he leads us across the dance floor and up to the scoring room. "This is going to be bad," I say.

Nikki gives us a six. Dominic and I nod and shrug. Stephen gives us a six, and we look at each other and grin. There's not much we could do to fix that dance. And then the final judge, Brice gives us a six. Dominic and I high-five and laugh at the unanimously pathetic scores.

"If you want Chelsea and Dominic to stay in the competition for the finals, they'll need your votes."

But we're beyond saving and we both know it. It would have been great to go on to the finals, and I'll miss being on the show, but tonight was still a blast. We dance out to the music as the band plays to the commercial break. The other contestants are either laughing with us, or visibly relieved that we'll be out of the competition. Once at the commercial break, I have three minutes to myself, so head backstage.

"Off to call Tom with the good news?"

I flash my eyebrows and grin. Tom answers on the first ring, and before I can say anything, he blurts, "You're coming to New York!"





15





On the results show the next night it's confirmed, and to no one's surprise Dominic and I are out. My feelings are conflicted as the show closes and the remaining cast surrounds us with well wishes. I realize that I've finally made some friends here. They were a tough group to crack, but now I can say there are some genuinely nice people.