The Love Club

Chapter Ten

Day's pass and you feel no further forward. Your muscles ache and your dreams are consumed with counting steps. One two three four. One two three four. It's all you can think about. You find yourself mindlessly going over the footwork while you brush your teeth in the morning, hoping to miraculously impress Russell. Instead, he stands at the back of the dance studio, watching you over a furrowed brow.

It was the second day of lessons when you had found Russell's stare unnerving. Without the rest of the cast to hide behind, you feel vulnerable. Open to Russell's criticisms or most importantly your own. There is something about seeing your reflection dancing that sets that horrible voice in your head off. You look stiff as a board. God, he looks unimpressed. You can't do this.

"Stop."

His voice breaks your thoughts, and you pause mid-movement, startled, "What?"

"You're too stiff," Russell announces, kicking off from the wall. "You need t'relax... stop worrying about how you look n'feel the music instead." He circles you with his arms folded the same way a vulture surveys their pray.

You puff out a bubble of anger that forms deep in your stomach. "I'm trying."

Russell throws his hands up as a sign of surrender. "I know... you just need to lighten up y'know? Dancing is about feeling...emotion! Not just countin' your steps and keepin' in time with the music."

"Well, what do you suppose I do then?"

Russell drags you up the steps to your apartment by the wrist, tugging when you try to slow down in protest.

"Sal!" He yells, barging through the door, "Get this chick ready, I'm takin' Melvin out."

You're sure you must be in a fever dream because there is no other explanation why Russell is strewn across Sally's bed, smirking out of pure enjoyment while he rests his neck on her floral pillow. You are forced to sit at Sally's dressing room table, while she excitedly rushes back into her bedroom.

"Here, drink this." She grins, handing you a cold glass of wine. "It'll help, trust me."

You hesitantly begin sipping at the glass forced into your hands and allow yourself to give in to this ridiculousness while Sally powders your face and rolls your hair using old washed-out cola cans. She moves towards her wardrobe, swivelling back around suggestively with a green mini skirt and floral blouse in hand.

"No," You warn.

"Alright," She turns back to her wardrobe and ponders for a moment before leaping forward. "What about this?"

Your eyes shoot open in horror. "No. Absolutely not." It's that same cream dress Sally had worn a party up in Laurel Canyon and if you remembered correctly, it did not cover much more than her backside.

"Yes." Russell says from the bed, staring back at you, like his word is absolute.

You stand fidgeting in the bathroom mirror, tugging at the hem of Sally's dress, smudging the red stain she applied to your lips. You suppose you should enjoy the process of being transformed into someone else. Being able to step into someone else's shoes as if they were your own is a critical part of your job. But there is a strange knawing feeling deep inside your chest as you continue to create a mental list of everything you do not like about yourself.

The door swings open and Russell barges into the room impatiently, startling you.

"You had enough time lookin' in the mirror, Melvin?" His voice dies into nothing when his eyes meet yours and the way his stare traces your body sets your skin on fire.