Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
But it’s truly hard to say which one is better than the other. I’m not a ballet expert, and perhaps the two of them also know they’re serious competition.
Soon, Beckett falls back and the segment cuts to an actual interview. Beckett and Leo are standing side by side while the rest of the dancers rehearse behind them.
Eliot wasn’t kidding about this being rare. I shovel popcorn in my mouth.
From off-screen behind the camera, the interviewer says, “Well, that certainly was a show you both put on.” Her voice is light and airy. “Do either of you watch each other’s performances on stage?”
“No,” they both say at the same time. They exchange a brief, caustic glare.
I snort.
“Who would you say has the better technique?” she asks.
Leo lets out a laugh like it’s a dumb question and the answer is obvious.
Eliot throws a scoop of my popcorn at the TV. I do the same.
“That would be me,” Leo answers. “But he’s going to say himself.” He waves Beckett on. “Go ahead, Cobalt. Give the people what they want.”
“Give it to ‘em, brother,” Eliot says to the screen.
On the television Beckett says, “His technique is adequate.”
“His technique is stale. Lifeless,” Leo retorts. “People sleep at his shows. People stay awake for mine.”
Ouch. I glare at his annoying, yet very striking, two-dimensional face.
“How would you know?” Beckett turns on him. “You never attend mine.”
“Burn,” Tom says to the television.
The interview zooms in on Leo’s tensed jaw as he responds, “People talk.”
Beckett makes his classic what the fuck face, which has me smiling again. Some things really don’t change. That expression is exactly as I remember.
Leo stares Beckett down.
Beckett doesn’t blink.
It’s the tensest staring contest I’ve seen in a long while. A popcorn kernel stays motionless on my tongue like if I make a crunch, I’ll break the moment.
“Viewers want to know if you’re both currently seeing anyone?” the interviewer asks.
“She didn’t,” I whisper in shock.
“She did.” Charlie is the one who speaks. His hip is leaning up against the couch as he watches the interview with us.
That personal question breaks Beckett and Leo’s staring contest. Their heads swing to face the camera.
“No,” Beckett says, even-tempered.
Leo forces a smile. It kinda looks fake. “Recently divorced.”
I almost choke on my popcorn. “What? He was married?!” Did I know this in the time I lost? Probably not, considering this is likely filmed sometime in the past three years.
“Shhh,” Eliot shushes me. Thankfully so. I don’t want to miss any of this.
Beckett isn’t shocked by that bomb drop. Maybe it’s not even a bomb. It’s like a sad little firecracker of information that seems so much bigger to me. Then again, these days most information seems pretty giant-sized from my point of view.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” the interviewer says. “Is he still around?”
“She,” Leo corrects, his glare returning. This time he’s directing it to the interviewer. “And no.”
“Is that question necessary?” Beckett asks the interviewer, his voice carrying an undertone of bite. “It doesn’t pertain to ballet.”
“It was a follow-up question,” she says in defense. The camera zooms in on Leo. “What do you think of the recent text message leaks?”
Leaks?
“What leaks?” I ask Eliot and Tom.
Tom pauses the interview just to say, “Beckett hooked up with a girl and she leaked some of their texts.”
I wince.
“Yeah, it was brutal,” Tom says off my expression. While he rewinds a couple seconds of the video, my phone pings.
I check the text.
DONNELLY
Getting out of my psych eval. All is good. Won’t know results till later, I don’t think.
Before I ask, he sends another message.
Think I aced it 🤟
He’s been so confident, but I was worried his bad sleep and nightmares would be a reason he wouldn’t pass. I smile and send him a Snape and Dumbledore dance party gif, not overthinking it.
“You ready?” Tom asks me.
“Yeah, press play.” I slip my phone back in my pocket as the video restarts.
The interviewer says again, “What do you think of the recent text message leaks?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leo snaps, hostile.
“Beckett’s texts,” she clarifies.
Donnelly suddenly enters the camera frame, and my whole heart jumps to my throat. Oh. My. God. He’s on TV! It’s so unexpected seeing him on-screen from a time before, and my jaw drops like my favorite movie star just entered the building.
“Stop filming,” Donnelly sneers. “Or I’ll call—”
The interview cuts off.
“Who was he going to call?!” I yell at the TV like my favorite show ended on the worst possible cliffhanger.
“Ghostbusters,” Tom and Eliot say in unison, then share a grin.
Charlie narrows his eyes at them like they’re the furthest thing from cute.
“Rewind it,” I tell them. “Can you rewind back like fifteen seconds? Maybe we can figure it out.”
“He threatened to call legal,” Charlie deadpans. “It’s obvious.”
“Don’t rain on our parade, Charlie.” Eliot stands off the couch. “We’re having fun playing guess what Donnelly said.”