Une Fleure Fanée

Week 3 Part 6 (Saturday and Sunday Pt. 1)

     We have to wear these red matching jumpsuits onesies for the dance competition walk-in. They look weird for a day outfit, but I don't think I deserve particularly nice things. But people seem to like me. They cheer for me, but I don't know why. Good news though. Brady didn't snitch and I didn't have any breakfast. I normally don't eat before competitions though. I know it'll get trickier. I feel so sick taking my Fluoxetine and Venlafaxine.

     It's supposed to help me. I want to say I'm better without it, but I have a panic attack the one time I don't. It still helps me to some extent. Just not for its intended purpose. Or does it help at all? I did have that anxiety attack last week with Fluoxetine and Venlafaxine. But it was worn off... ugh! Medicine is confusing.

     It doesn't help that I'm the lead for the group dance. So much pressure. Why do I have to be the lead for such a sensitive topic? I'm so nervous. But I can't show or tell. I'm very lucky that Brady or Pressley didn't tell anybody when I showed visible nervousness and dread last night over a movie.

     You're gonna fail the dance. Your arms and feet are too ugly. Nobody will be listening to the message. They'll be looking at your fat and whorish body. And the few that do will be so offended by your message that you will be cut for the team.

     I also have to prove to Ms. Abby that Brady doesn't always need to be the center of the group dance. That's just as scary as trying to convey the right message. But I can't dwell on it for too long. I need to put on my makeup for the group dance and then watch GiaNina, Hannah, and Brady perform from the sidelines.

     We all wear these unicorn headbands to support Hannah. Hannah's the underdog, not going to lie. But I know she's going to win or at least get second to Brady. Suddenly, I hear GiaNina going off on how Ms. Abby's words and opinions don't matter. She must think she is crazy. If you are a part of her competition team, her words, and opinions matter.

       Now she is contradicting her own words, saying how much she loves the dance. Good thing Ms. Abby isn't here yet. But Ms. Gianna is. Now her mom is backing her up, saying that she didn't not like the dance, she just didn't like sassy jazz. What she is saying just seems so fake. Because instead of sassy jazz, it has now turned into cheesy jazz. I can't stand to listen to the conversation. GiaNina isn't perfect. She's talented and sweet, but nobody's not perfect. I'm not perfect.

      Ms. Abby arrives in some sparkly denim getup by the time Hannah is in her costume. It's pink and sparkly. GiaNina has her costume on and so does Brady but I don't notice them at first.

      "Soloists," Ms. Abby begins, making us pay attention to her, "I know you're putting your final touches in, but come on up here."

      Brady, GiaNina, and Hannah went to Ms. Abby. They look nervous. At least they get to look nervous and their parents don't worry if they're going to have an anxiety attack.

     "Hannah, you need to dance like it's the last time you'll ever dance. Because it just might be," Ms. Abby threatens Hannah. Hannah is too friendly and skilled to throw to the wind. I don't want her to go.

     "GiaNina," Ms. Abby starts, speaking her name in an Italian accent, "You have a sassy jazz dance. So this should be easy-peasy for you. Have the same style and the same sass and the same attitude you had in a trio as the devil right now. So that's what we need to see again. All right?"

     "I love my dance, and I feel that it also fits my personality well and all the tricks and things that are in my dance," GiaNina states.

     The moms seem pissed at GiaNina. This is obvious coaching from her mother. I really don't care, as well as she performs adequately, but just be honest. You'll get in more trouble if you lie than if you say, "Well, this isn't my forte, but I'll try my best to execute it perfectly."