Murder on the Dancefloor // t.h.

Friday

A whole day went by, and Jo's words had really stuck with you. Because she had been right. If she could figure out your new feelings towards Tom after only spending two days with you... Chances were high that Tom had realised it as well. You two had, after all, spend two entire months together. You had grown close. Somehow, you knew almost everything about each other. And not only the trivial things, like your favourite colour, or his favourite ice cream flavour, but you were able to read each other so well. You could tell when the other one needed a break before they knew it. Microexpressions had become a second language to both of you.

And as you sat in the large fitting room of the Elstree Studio, submerged in glitter and surrounded by fabulous costumes, you were trying to read Tom's expressions from far away, before he disappeared behind a rack of suits and dresses. He was getting fitted for one of his costumes for Saturday night. Because he had a few.

Every week, the professional dancers would perform an incredible routine. A way to show off their real talent and skill, without being hurdled by the likes of you. This would be played somewhere throughout the result show, pre-recorded after the live competition, to be broadcast on Sunday. This week, it would be accompanied by a West End show cast, which you were unfortunately not very well informed about.

But, also, in the spirit of Musical Week, the pros had to do another dance. It happened every year. The dance would be a medley themed around a specific classic musical.

This year the Strictly stage performed a production of... Cats.

Tom had shared his dislike of the dance with you, him being more of a dog person and all. And when you had heard what the theme of the dance would be, you did laugh a little. Already imagining Tom in one of those horrible catsuits that were used in the actual stage show.

So, when you heard Tom cough for attention behind you in the large fitting room, the last thing you expected was to see Tom in a stylish dark brown suit. The fabric had a print that resembled cat fur, and he had also received a pair of adorable cat ears to match into his hair.

"Imagine it with whiskers." He laughed. You couldn't really imagine it, but you were sure the costume and make-up department would make it work. Someone in the room started giggling, making you turn around. It was Katya, another professional and Tom's partner in the dance. She had a dark grey dress on. The ends of her sleeves were covered in soft ostrich feathers. All the dress details sparkled when she moved, and the feathers actually seemed to look like soft fur. The logic behind it was unexplainable, but it worked.

"I think you look great," you said, reaching out to straighten his suit collar.

"Thanks," Tom said, "where's your dress?"

"I just tried it on, Vicky went to adjust the hem a bit." you referred to the head of the dress department. The work she and the rest of the designers did was insane. Sewing dozens of costumes in a week and always making everyone look stunning.

"Ah, great. Then I'll see you at the rehearsal." Tom said. A production assistant called out into the room for all the professionals to get to the stage, so he ran off with the rest. The room was suddenly much quieter.

As much as you wanted to see them all dance, you had to stay where you were and get your dress fitted. Once that was done, you had to go back to the main stage and perform your dance two times, to see if the dress was really up to the standard of the routine and would not snap at or tear as you moved.

You had already done your routine twice, in the morning for the camera blocking. During the broadcast, several cameras were used: standstill, aerial, dollies—all of them there to get the best possible view of the dance for the audiences at home. So, the shots had to be planned out properly. This way, none of the details you and Tom and the rest had worked so hard on would be missed.