5:00 in the morning, I force myself to get up and I pick the same outfit that I wore yesterday. The producers want to act like pyramid day and rehearsal day one is the same day, when in reality, pyramid, schoolwork and the remaining privates take like, nine hours of our day, which is a general filming day.
I put on the same outfit and put the same elastic and hair clip in my hair, trying to put the clips and ponytail in the same place. Mom washed our clothes from the night before, so I put back on the sports bra and leggings. Skincare. Makeup. Meds. Breakfast.
Chobani yogurt. Strawberry. 110 calories. That's over a quarter of my calories. But the yogurt will fill me up. For lunch are four celery sticks and one cup of grapes. 40 calories and 62 calories for the grapes. That leaves me with 188 calories for dinner. There have been a lot of salads lately. Mom likes to keep a constant, so maybe salads for dinners will be the new constant. I'm glad for that. 58 calories for dinner is great.
You look so fat in the sports bra, Lilliana. Why didn't you convince the team to coordinate something else? I sigh, slipping on my hoodie to cover my insecurities. I put on my shoes and put my computer in my dance bag. I grab my phone and my dance bag and head out the door.
GiaNina and I get my mom's car, sitting next to each other so we can film and look at some Tik Toks. All the girls look so pretty. You're so ugly compared to the girls on Tik Tok, Lilliana. It still feels weird that Brady isn't in the car. The excitement and happiness balks, and I hesitantly lean my head on GiaNina's shoulder for comfort, and she lets me. She and I look at some more social media before we get to the studio, our emotions soured.
We go straight to Studio A to warm up before the producers say we're rolling. The moms head over to the producers to learn information and gossip so they have something to argue over. Ms. Abby arrives a couple minutes later, and I put down the metal contraption in the threshold so Ms. Abby can wheel in. The moms go up to the dancer's den and then we start filming. We begin to stretch, taking out the mats.
"All right. Our prop is here," Ms. Abby suddenly announces as we see two dudes bring in a grey, humongous, coffin.
We rush over to help them move it, exchanging smiles and excited glances. It's heavy and I feel weak compared to the girls. The girls are so much stronger than you, Lilliana. Do better. GiaNina and Savannah put away the mats while Sarah, Pressley, Hannah, and I work on unlocking the coffin. We manage to open it, and in it is a bunch of white fabric laying around it.
"All right girls, listen up. Has anyone ever been to a funeral?" Ms. Abby asks us.
I've never been to one. Maybe I was too young to remember if there had been one. I don't raise my hand. Everybody else except Pressley raises their hands.
"Okay. Well it-it-it's a room, it smells weird, there's beautiful arrangements of flowers all around. If the person was well liked. If they weren't there's probably no flowers. And then imagine your husband, your spouse, is laying inside that casket dead. And you're putting this big act on for all of his relatives. You didn't really like your husband, maybe he didn't really like you, maybe it wasn't a great marriage. All right, let's go," Ms. Abby explains, starting to block and mark the number.
"Reach. Reach. Now piqué. Arms reach. Plié. And step, go. Right. Alright, let's go," Ms. Abby tells us as we get into our starting positions.
"Oh, my goodness," Ms. Abby mutters under her breath as we dance, looking disgusted.
"Lilly, turn your right heel out and suck in your stomach!" Ms. Abby yells as I do my a la secondes turns into an illusion turn.
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Une Fleure Fanée
Fanfiction***MATURE WARNING*** "The hunger is good. You had too many calories already. You're already fat." "They'll love you even more when you're skinny. You'll be their perfect little angel when you're nice and pretty." "Lilly, I heard you puking up the c...
