Page 14 of Shattered Rhythm

“I’m not good with names, and your eyes are that strange olive color,” Camilla replies, waving her off. “I just got mixed up, but you must get that a lot.”

“Sure,” I say and give her a small smile, forcing myself to calm down. We agree to listen to the song to get some ideas for the routine, but while I’m playing it, I can’t help but think about Liam.

* * *

Olivia

We’re in the middle of shooting our latest dance video for our YouTube channel. Our subscriber count just hit five million, so we want to make something special to celebrate. The choreography is difficult, and the humidity is making me feel gross and sticky under all the makeup, but of course, none of that will show on camera.

Liam’s been adamant about making sure I look perfect, meaning exactly how he wants me to look. My nails were done yesterday, filed to an almond shape and painted pink, and I bleached my brown roots blonde again because Liam doesn’t like my natural hair color. He thinks it’s too ordinary, and we can’t be ordinary. I have to be exceptional, always looking perfect, never laughing too much or smiling too little. I must be polite but not too friendly.

The happy, loving guy he once was seems to be gone. He’s becoming more and more controlling, dictating what I eat, who I talk to, and how I look. If I don’t obey him, he gets angry or doesn’t speak to me. It’s not easy working with your boyfriend and being so public with our relationship doesn’t help either. All these women who lust after Liam comment on our videos and posts that I don’t deserve him, and maybe they’re right.Maybe I’m the problem, and I need to be better.

I stumble during our dance routine, and Liam’s grip tightens, almost bruising me. Lately, he’s been rough with me, and I don’t like it at all. I quickly apologize and we start over, but Liam’s mood continues to darken. We almost make it through the whole routine, but I trip again. Apologizing, I look up into his eyes and see that he’s furious.

Suddenly, the left side of my face explodes in pain, and I realize that he’s just backhanded me.I’m in shock, and so is he.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry, Olivia. I didn’t mean to,” he says, holding my face in his hands. I try to pull away from him, but he falls to his knees, hugging my legs and repeating his apologies over and over again.

“Please, angel, I love you. I’m so sorry,” he cries, his lips peppering kisses on the sliver of skin between my shorts and my top.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, scratching his head with shaking hands, trying to calm him down. Deep down, though, I know that something is very wrong, and I’m scared.

* * *

Liv

We agree on the song and start thinking about the choreography. When the class ends, they ask me if I want to grab something to eat and chill at the beach for a while. I’m not sure why they would ask me, since we aren’t really vibing, but I haven’t had the opportunity to hang out at the beach and I promised myself to try to make some friends, so I agree.

We get an acai bowl and some water and head down to the beach. The two of them talk mostly about teachers and other students while I just listen, but it’s nice to have someone to hang out with. I’m lounging and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face and the feeling of sand between my toes. After a while, they talk about a girl named Monica, and I pay more attention because there isn’t a Monica in our classes.

“Did you hear what happened to her? She fell down the stairs, poor girl,” Camilla says.

“Yeah, sure, she fell. I don’t think that’s what happened,” Sofie says bitterly.

“That’s what she told me. Anyway, now her gig in the cage this weekend is open, and Donny asked me if we know someone that could fill in for one or two weekends.”

“Hmm, what about Amy?” Sofie asks.

“I don’t think she’s up to that. She’s a bit of a prude, like Liv,” Camilla says.

I grimace and look at her. “Why am I a prude? And what are you guys even talking about?”

“Camilla and I dance at a club called Jail in the city on weekends,” Sofie explains.

“Is it a strip club?” I ask.

“No, silly, it’s just a normal club, but there are cages where they have dancers inside to hype up the crowd,” Sofie explains.

“Okay, sounds cool. I’m in,” I say, and both of them look at me in disbelief.

“You are?” Camilla asks.

“Yeah, why not? Is there a dress code?”

“No, it just has to be sexy, but you don’t have to show too much. I normally just wear shorts, heels, and a top,” Sofie explains.

"Okay, great. We should exchange numbers so you can text me the details, please," I say. I miss performing, and why not do something different for once? It can’t be that bad if Camilla and Sofie are enjoying it.

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