Born Stars Page 8

  Peter placed his arm around Alice’s shoulders. She no longer felt the need to lean against him for support, but she liked having him so close.

  “I agree with Wes,” Leticia said. “And it was a little racy! You two have some real chemistry going on here.”

  They smiled at each other, and Peter nodded. When they reached the wings, Peter pulled her into a hug and lifted her off the ground. “We did it!” he said.

  She was back on the ground, and their lips nearly touched. His kiss would cap off what felt like complete success. Before she could taste him, The Shark announced the final act, and Alice’s attention shifted back to the show.

  Marissa and Kevin took the stage. Kevin made like he was trapped in a box or pulling on a rope. Typical mime stuff. What made everyone, including Alice, hold their collective breath was the way Marissa mirrored every one of his movements and seemed to carelessly scatter colored sand on a board that could only be seen from overhead. When Kevin’s pace quickened, Marissa followed suit. Each time he slowed down, Marissa did the same. It was obvious to Alice that something spectacular was going to appear when they were said and done. She was terrified to see just what it would be.

  The moment of truth came via a camera shot that honed in on Marissa’s handiwork to reveal a perfect replica of The Scream. It was projected in high definition for the entire audience and the millions of eyes watching from their homes. For the first time all night, someone got a standing ovation. Marissa bowed smugly and drank in the applause and the judges’ astonished appreciation of her efforts. Kevin hung back and stayed silent. He wasn’t about to break character, not even in this moment of triumph.

  “Killed it, you guys! Killed it!”

  Alice had never seen The Shark so excited. She clutched Peter’s arm. “Peter?”

  “It’s okay, Alice.”

  “Peter, that was impressive. That was original.”

  “And we weren’t?”

  Not like that, she thought sadly. Not even close.

  “We’re running short of time people,” said The Shark. “But real quick, let’s do some recaps. And to everyone at home, get those fingers dialing and start voting.”

  Alice let Peter go and started to move into the wings.

  “Hey!” he called out as he caught her by the shoulder. “So they were good. But so were we...”

  Marissa left the stage and met them with a sneer. “Basic burlesque, sweeties. Really?”

  Kevin looked at the floor as he followed Marissa away from them.

  “Can you believe her?” Peter asked.

  “No. But can I hate her?”

  Peter laughed as he escorted Alice back to the dressing room. “Hang in there, my lady. We are far from out of this.”

  She wanted him to be right.

  Warm Embrace

  Alice changed into her street clothes and returned to the hotel with Peter. Darlene was in the lobby with Ten and Out. She waved, and Alice returned the gesture. Peter led her to the elevator and they started up to their floor.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” he said.

  “Just tired,” Alice answered.

  The elevator opened. Peter was at her side as she hit her door. “So…the room’s free,” Peter said.

  “So it is.” Alice held the key card against the lock.

  Peter’s fingers surrounded hers, and he breathed into her hair. “Care for a little company?” he asked.

  “Peter---”

  “Come on. Whether you believe it or not, we do have something to celebrate.”

  Even if the end of the road seemed just one more results’ show in sight, Alice felt that she could indulge him. And besides, she didn’t want to be alone.

  Alice let them in. The mini-bar was restocked. If all of this was on her tab, she’d be doomed with collection letters. On the show’s tab, they could imbibe until they had to face the music.

  Now Alice wanted to get drunk. She poured two straight vodkas and downed hers in a single gulp.

  Peter had barely sipped as Alice went back for seconds. “Easy. That’s not like you.”

  Alice took another swig and leaned against the dresser. “Like you really know.”

  Peter studied her carefully. She could feel his eyes picturing a performance under her jeans and gray tee. Had Marissa called it? Was it little more than a bump and grind for votes? Marissa was smart. So was Peter. They would survive tomorrow night. But it had to be something more if they were going to give the sand lady and the mime a run for their money.

  Alice finished and poured a third. Then a fourth.

  “Alice. Come on.”

  She finished off a fifth and sat beside him. The buzz from the vodka was racing across her brain. “We…we have to come up with something else.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m… serious.” She doled out a sixth vodka, then she had to revert to rum, but she opted against the Coke. The liquor stung her throat, and she felt so warm that she stripped off her tee. Alice heard Peter gasp as her bare back met his eyes. Her exposed breasts turned to him.

  “Wow. Maybe that’s the ticket,” he said.

  Alice laughed and kept drinking.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I like the reverse of the reverse. Just saying you look good.”

  She fell against him. “You would think so.”

  Alice started to drink again. Peter removed the rum from her lips and placed the glass on the floor.

  “Hey! I wasn’t done with that.”

  “You’ve had enough, my lady.”

  She reached for the glass again and downed its contents in a single swallow. “Hardly.”

  Alice started back to the bar. Peter stopped her and held her fast against the edge of the bed.

  “What do you think you’re---?”

  “Alice, don’t.”

  She stayed in his grasp. Peter hadn’t showered after the show. He was still covered in sweat and dust and the adrenaline of the live audience.

  “Don’t what? Come on, Peter. We’re finishing third at best. So that’s it.”

  Peter took her face in his hands. “Is it really? Alice, I’m supposed to be the cynic of the pair. We can still win this.”

  Maybe if Marissa lost all her sand and Porter Cole forgot how to rhyme. Beyond that…

  And it wasn’t fair. Alice had trained for a chance at the stars for as long as she could remember. If she was still flying solo, she could dance her way to the trophy or the medal or whatever trinket this new program had waiting in the wings. Peter was not the one who had orchestrated the pairings. But he was in her line of sight.

  “I was supposed to do this alone. I had plans. Routines.”

  “So did I. We’ll adapt. We’ll make it to the next round.”

  “And what then? We have nothing else! I might as well dance around a pile of oysters and wait for cries that we’ve already done it.”

  “Alice, we’ll have time to come up with something else.”

  She pushed him away and drank straight from the bottle. Tomorrow was already promising a wicked hangover, but she didn’t care. The audiences’ whims meant that she was on the first train back to Vermont. She could teach a dance class. Maybe a future student would have the chance to come up with a better act that would win over the hearts of TV viewers from coast to coast.

  Alice was on the floor, her head spinning. Peter fell beside her. When he tried to hold her close, Alice batted him away.

  “No. It’s almost over, Peter. Maybe you know what that feels like, but I thought I had a chance.”

  Then the tears started to flow. Her fatigue and the vodka and the rum played on her brain to the point where she forgot how to speak. So she just cried as Peter wrapped awkward arms around her.

  “Let me go.”

  “No way.”

  She struggled some as he held her closer. Alice tried to forget her own misfortune and be him. This was only her first rejection out of the gate. Peter’s collection rivaled anything
that she could comprehend. Alice returned his embrace and sank into his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. I am.”

  He shushed her as his hands moved down her back. “I get it, Alice. But can I tell you a secret?”

  She slowly looked up at him.

  Peter was confident in her arms. “There’s still time.”

  Alice thought of pulling away from him again, but it felt so warm in his arms. She settled against him to listen. “What do we do with it?” she asked.

  His hands ran through her hair. Alice reveled in the sensation. Peter’s hands moved slowly. He left her hair for the back of her neck and pressed her closer. She liked his touch there.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be a total loss.

  Alice shot up and removed the rest of her clothing, panties and all. She swayed above him, naked. “What are you going to do with this?”

  Peter slowly rose. His fingers grazed her breasts, and Alice was ready for his clothes to leave his body. If this was the grand prize…would it be enough?

  “You need some water.”

  He guided her into the bathroom and removed a glass from its plastic shield. He turned the faucet to attention and filled the cup. “Drink, Alice,” he said as he pressed the rim of the glass to her lips.

  Alice obeyed. Thirst trumped all desires. The water soothed her in almost every way. She sucked it down and wiped her wet mouth on her wrist.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “I guess. I… Peter… I…” She was crying again.

  Peter reached for one of the pre-folded washcloths. He doused it under the faucet and pressed the wetness to her face. Alice basked in the cool damp. It revived her to point where she felt she could sleep.

  But she didn’t want to do it alone. “Peter.”

  He lowered the cloth and carried her back to the bed that was made. Peter settled her on the comforter. He drew the corner away from edge of the bed and took off his jacket, his shirt. As he settled beside her, Alice moved to touch the hair on his chest. She kissed him there. Even lying down, the room was still spinning.

  “Alice, you’re just getting started.”

  She found his eyes. If anyone knew lost opportunities, Peter did. For a second, Alice forgot the hand that she had been dealt. Peter had years on her in every way. Even if he wasn’t going to win on his own, his chances when paired with the dancer had to seem like even less of a sure thing.

  “Peter, I’m sorry.”

  He kissed her brow. “For what?”

  “I… I tricked you. I tried to ruin this for you.”

  “I already said. It’s forgotten.”

  “But it shouldn’t be. I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening to me. I want to win. I don’t care…. I didn’t care.”

  She kissed him. Alice’s mouth was tense against his until his tongue unfurled. Alice tasted him, soft and sad, and she wanted to keep him close.

  “I didn’t care about you.”

  Peter kissed her eyes. “And now you do?”

  She could do nothing but nod. The liquor was leaving her head and flowing into her veins.

  Peter folded her body close to his and kissed her hair. “I get it, Alice. And I’m not going to let you down. Trust me, Alice.”

  Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the days spent in rehearsal. Alice trusted Peter and fell asleep. She felt his hands on her head until the moment when her eyes finally closed.

  Hangover

  Alice woke up with a headache. Peter was fumbling with the instant coffee maker. She saw him pour out each cup slowly. He hit both of them with packets of Splenda.

  “Here. You need this,” he said.

  Alice took the mug and hungrily drank. She didn’t need to be a star. She just wanted work. Could she have found her way there without the competition? Probably. Eventually.

  But where was Peter in the equation?

  “Thanks,” she said. “What time is it?”

  He casually looked at his watch. “Nearly results time. Darlene’s already come and gone. I’m amazed that you slept through it.”

  Alice tuned out his voice. She scrambled for the costume that was her robe as Peter lay back on the bed.

  “Relax,” he said.

  Alice flung a thong she was not going to wear in his face. “You relax!”

  Peter watched her rifling through her suitcase. “Alice, you left the robe at the theater. Remember?”

  Her head was still burning from the alcohol. Alice tried to stand, and the room began to swirl. She seriously doubted if she could make it to the theater. Even if she did, there was no way she would be able to stand under the bright lights without fainting. There was nothing plainly stated in the rules, but Alice was suddenly seized with fear that passing out would lead to immediate disqualification.

  Peter stood as she leaned against the dresser for support.

  “Alice? You okay?”

  She was sweating as she looked up at him. Peter looked blurred at best, but she tried to reach for him to prove that he was real. Her hand was nearly on his arm when she held it to her mouth and stumbled towards the bathroom.

  Alice made it in the toilet in time to vomit the meager contents of her stomach into the bowl. She hacked and coughed as she stayed on her knees. Peter’s shadow fell over her, and Alice heard him running the water. He picked up the washcloth again and smoothed it down her neck.

  “That’s right,” he whispered. “Get it all out.”

  Alice obliged and spit into the bowl. Peter pulled her back and settled her against the wall. With her eyes closed, she reveled in the cool cloth against her face.

  “Peter?”

  “Easy, Alice. It’s not like we have to perform.”

  “But…”

  “I’ll get you that coffee. You’ll be just fine.”

  Alice felt him starting to stand, and she grabbed his hand. Her eyes fluttered open to the sight of Peter’s gentle smile.

  “You just lean on me, okay? I promise I won’t let you fall.”

  This was not the jerk from the train.

  The ride to the theater was a fight to keep her head up and not vomit again all over her shoes. Peter sat with his arm around her. He kept rubbing her back, and Alice rested her head against his shoulder. If the votes didn’t go in their favor, she would be crushed. She didn’t want to leave the competition or the feel of him at her side.

  Alice didn’t notice that they were an act short until everyone stood at center stage. Ella Miles and Randy’s Rovers were nowhere to be seen.

  “What do you think happened to them?” Alice asked as Peter kept her upright at his side.

  “I think we’re about to find out.”

  The Shark appeared to thunderous applause. Alice’s head hurt even more, but Peter held her steady.

  “Okay, ladies and gents. By now you’ve probably noticed that our stage is a little emptier than it was last night. Seems like we lost Ella Miles and Randy’s Rovers.”

  The audience gasped, and the spinning that had plagued Alice’s head dissipated slightly.

  “Peter!”

  “I know, I know.”

  “So maybe no one’s going home.”

  “Because someone already did.”

  The theater dimmed as a prerecorded clip of Randy thanking the judges and the voters for the opportunity was intercut with scenes of Ella weepily packing her bags as she blasted the show for sabotaging her one shot with a novelty act. She was as childish as Randy was gracious. When the clip came to an end, The Shark explained that it was a bad break for Randy.

  “But thems the rules, people. Without his partner, our friend and his dogs are out. God’s speed, Randy. Hope we haven’t seen the last of you.”

  It was beyond unfair to poor Randy. Alice would never have pulled such a stunt even before she started to see Peter’s many other sides. What Ella had done was so unprofessional, and Alice felt sure that the last had been seen of her.

  “So,” The Shark continued, “what does this mean for our
remaining acts? Do we still have to send someone home?”

  The audience unanimously objected to the possibility. Alice grew more and more certain that she and Peter were safe. When she caught Darlene out of the corner of her eye, her roommate gave her a quick wink. It seemed now like the most daunting prospect of the evening would be explaining Peter’s presence in her room and the emptied contents of the mini-bar. That would be nothing and…

  “Well, people. Forget what you think you’ve seen. We don’t roll that way on this show. Elimination night means you still get to choose who goes home.”

  The audience groaned. Alice looked to the judges’ table and saw Wesley smirk. This wasn’t about the remaining acts. It was about Ella. She had insulted the concept and tried to flip the script, but what could be interpreted by some as a sacrifice on her part would only further vilify her. Ella and the Rovers would have been eliminated, and her childishness would only rob one of the other acts of a chance at redemption.

  Now more than ever, Alice couldn’t faint. If she did, three acts instead of two were doomed to leave the show.

  “So let’s let some of these stars catch their breath, okay? The first act that’s safe is…”

  The Shark kept the silence going to the point where Alice thought that she would burst. Watching something like this on TV was nothing compared to living it. Peter’s fingers pressed against her shaking arm.

  “My man Porter and his boy Louis!”

  They each took one of Mortimer’s arms, and all three bowed to the clapping crowd.

  “No surprise there,” Peter whispered.

  None at all. Alice looked over her shoulder at Marissa and the mime. She was already preparing to take her bow before The Shark even called her name.

  “Next act safe…? Marissa and Kevin.”

  Marissa acknowledged the crowd with a coldness that cut to Alice’s core. Kevin gestured to Marissa and stayed a few steps behind her. For the first time, Alice noticed a black eyed hidden beneath his makeup.

  Then the spotlight went dark.

  “Okay, people. This is it. Let’s have the remaining acts step forward.”

  Alice’s legs were like jelly as she and Peter stepped forward. Darlene and her gang were loud and funny, and each member of the ten piece orchestra undoubtedly had hordes of voters at their individual disposals.