Page 22 of A Certain Step
“Distract myself? From what?” Willa smirked.
Sahar arched an eyebrow. “It’s working that well, is it?”
Willa rolled her shoulders rhythmically. “As the song title says, ‘I don’t wanna talk.’”
“Noted. But can we talk about how this is the first time we’re going to dance in the new costumes? I feel so giddy I could run a marathon.”
“Iknow!” Willa emphasized, flicking her eyes to the new bejeweled leotards in their wardrobe. The base was a gorgeous hue of burgundy, but the crystals were different shades of bright reds, big and small, glistening in the light. It featured a plunging neckline and two cuts near the ribcage. Most of their costumes, Willa’s ensemble getups especially, were on the sultrier side. Still, this was the most stunning, right next to Elizabeth’s final outfit: a shimmering gold dress that stood out like it had been stitched by goddesses in the skies of Mount Olympus.
Despite being the understudy, Willa would likely not go on as Elizabeth during their run. She’d love to, though, if only to have a chance to dance in that dress. And, all feelings aside, sharing the stage with Ethan wouldn’t be a chore either.
Willa turned back to the mirror, itching to get up and start already. It was astounding how the prospect of performing could vanquish everything else in this world.
When she was on the stage, no anxious thought had its clasp on her—no distraction, only an unsurpassed form of escapism she was immeasurably thankful for. This was one of their last few dress rehearsal before previews started, and she couldn’t wait to do this eight times a week.
The lights began to dim,and the pre-show music started its slow ascent to a thumping cadence—the sound matching a slow, eager heartbeat. Naomi and Sahar made their way onto the stage, walking through a feigned misty morning.
“No one can see us here, Lizzie. Father and mother would disapprove if they knew where we were,”Jane said.
A large blast struck from the orchestra, and the curtains moved from left to right, signaling the doors of Pemberley asopened.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,”Sam as Bingley began. “Here, the gentile society is of no concern to us—here, the rules of society are meant to bend.”He moved aside, and the ensemble made its way onto the stage, Josie Singh’s sensational choreography pushing them through an introduction that Broadway critics raved about during tryouts.
Willa and Innila stepped forward to greet the two women, helping them out of their country ensemble and into the bejeweled leotards.“Let yourself be free, ladies. You’ll find that life is more pleasant with a little less fabric and a lot more skin,”Willa declared.
For this number, though all the women wore the same costume, different pieces like a garter or a hat and hairstyles would differentiate them from one another. A begrudging Darcy was then pulled out from the wings by Bingley to introduce his hideaway of iniquity: a place for no skin trade unless, of course, it was consensual—in the forbidden corridors only.
Willa kicked her foot up before lowering to a split, her dance partner in the number, Miles, coming up behind her to drag her swiftly through the floor, back up, then in between his legs. How Josie combined classic waltz movements and contemporary steps was a brilliance Willa still couldn’t fathom, and she’d been dancing her entire life.
It was quiet, then loud, and artificial smoke started to rise, signaling the transition from “Doors Open” to “Bennet Sisters’ Interviews.”
Dress rehearsals went almost seamlessly,a miracle they hadn’t achieved yet, which put everyone in the cast in a great mood. They even finished in time for Miles to get dinner with the bar-boy-maybe-the-one Clyde. Willa walked out of her dressing room to Ethan, who’d been waiting nearby, leaning against the wall.
She stopped in front of him, a little too close for comfort but not as hot and bothered, the adrenaline from the rehearsals still coursing through her. “Are we still on forPeaky Blindersand Chinese?”
“Fuck yeah,” he confirmed.
7
ETHAN
“I’m so sick of characters dying! God, why? Why did we do this to ourselves? I looked up spoilers. Iknewwhat was coming. I told myself I’d be fine. But I take it all back. I’m not fine. I’m mad. Good characters don’t deserve to die on-screen. Isn’t it bad enough that we have to watch real people die? Now we have to watch characters we love have the same fate, and for what? Good television? Fuck that. I’m over it. Never again.”
Ethan wanted to weigh in, but he knew she wasn’t done venting yet.
Willa got up off the couch and started pacing around the room. “And after everything they had been through.” She sighed heavily. “This sucks. This sucks so bad,” she said, wiping a few tears from her eyes.
She moved toward where Tulip sat, and as though sensing her agitation, his cat rose and leaped behind the couch. “See, even Tulip is sad. She’s gone off to hide. Or she thinks I’m a mad woman; either way, we’re not having a good time anymore,” she remarked.
He stifled a laugh. He had rescued Tulip from a shelter in Boston, a tiny little nugget who’d been abandoned at six weeks old. Willa had insisted that he keep the name the shelter had given her, so Tulip stuck.
Willa walked back toward the coffee table, took her can of Dr. Pepper, and chugged what had been remaining.
“Do you need something stronger?” he asked.
She stopped her pacing. “I need my memories wiped. I have massive regrets now.”
Ethan curled his lips inward to suppress a smile.
