Bad Blood

Chapter Two

When it's your turn,
And someone breaks your heart
(Just like you did mine),
I could laugh and call it karma
I could revel in your defeat.
But instead I'll reach out a hand,
And help you to your feet.

"Amazing work, Taylor!" My dance instructor nodded approvingly. "You really gave it your all."
It was true; I had poured every bit of myself into the perfectly choreographed moves today. It had been the perfect way to get my mind off Austin and Karlie. But now, as I stood drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, everything was flooding back in. I gave him a small smile and headed backstage. A small group of dancers was stretching.

"How's it going?" I asked them. "Do all of your costumes fit right?"
They glanced at each other awkwardly. "Uh, we weren't wearing any costumes today," one of them finally said.
"Oh!" I said, trying to remember. "I guess I wasn't paying enough attention. Why don't you have them, though?"
The same one - I'm fairly sure his name is Maho - replied, "We never actually got them."
"That's weird," I said. "They were supposed to be finished a couple of days ago."

Just as I finished speaking, a producer came running down the hallway, waving his hands wildly. "Why were you not wearing your costumes today?!" He demanded angrily.
The dancers looked confused. "I was just telling Taylor - we never got any costumes," Maho repeated.
"Yeah," Chris, another dancer, added. "We were supposed to, but we didn't get them."
"That's ridiculous!" The producer spat. "They came in days ago! They're ready!" He set off down the hall, beckoning us after him. "They're right in - " He flung open a door " - here!"

The room was completely empty.
A confused look crossed the producer's face - and then suspicion. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"Definitely not," Chris said.
"They were right here!" The producer gestured angrily. "One of you must have hidden them, you must have!"
"Look, man, we didn't hide anything," another dancer, Christian, said defensively.
"I'm sure nobody hid anything," I said. "It's probably just a misunderstanding. Can we talk to the people in charge of costuming?"

The producer nodded, and set off briskly again. We arrived in a room full of brightly colored fabrics and sketches of costumes.

"Hi, everyone!" A petite redhead sat behind a desk. "My name is Anne. I'm really glad you're here. We were all getting nervous."
"Nervous?" I said. "About what?"
"Well, the new costumes!" Anne said. "We only have a few weeks until the tour starts!"
We all looked at each other, shocked.
"What new costumes?" I said. "There weren't supposed to be any new costumes!"
Surprise creased Anne's face. "What do you mean?"
I took a deep breath. "Anne, why did you all think we wanted new costumes?"
"Delilah, James, and I came in yesterday morning and there was a message," the redhead said nervously. "It said that Taylor - that you hated the costumes, and you wanted them....well, destroyed. Along with the sketches and all of the fabric. It said that you hated everything about them."
"What?" I could barely speak. "I never said that, never! I LOVED the costumes!"
Anne's face was ashen. "Oh, my goodness."
"What did you do with the costumes?" I whispered.
"We....we destroyed them, and the f-fabrics, and the sketches," Anne said, looking like she was about to burst into tears. "There's no way we could possibly get them back now. Taylor, I'm so, so sorry."

The producer pulled out his cell phone, dialed quickly, and started barking orders into the phone. He left in seconds. The dancers, shock written across their faces, left as well.
For the second time today, I was floored. Why would someone ever make up a message from me? Could it possibly have been a mistake? And what if it wasn't?

Was somebody trying to sabotage my tour?