I heard through the grapevine that Clay was auditioning dancers for his new Christmas tour. So I slipped on my old leotard and made up a fake resume.

When I showed up for the audition, there were about 2 dozen people already waiting, including Ryan Seacrest. The only empty seat in the room was next to him. I considered leaving, but decided dancing and touring with Clay was worth a few minutes next to Seacrest.

“Hey love. I didn’t know you danced.” He said as I moved my chair a few inches away from his and sat down. “Ew. And I don’t. But Clayton doesn’t know that.”

I grabbed Ryan’s hand and bent his fingers back. “And he’s not going to find out, is he?” He didn’t answer, so I bent the back harder. “Is he?”

“Ow! No!” He yanked his hand back and gave me a glare like I had just tried to murder his whole family.

“Loving me is not all sunshine and gentle touches, Seacrest. Remember that.”

“I will everytime I look at my crippled fingers!... Call me Seacrest again.”

I ignored him and pulled a pair of ballet slippers out of my gym bag and slipped them onto my feet.

Ryan lifted his leg and laid it across my knees. “Do these leg warmers compliment my eyes?”

“Damnit, Ryan!!.... Actually, they do. They bring out the green in a way that makes your face shine and… damnit!!”

I pushed his leg off of me. “Leave me alone! I need to mentally prepare.” And by prepare I meant daydream about Clay and me doing the tango.

My name was called mid-fantasy. I put on my sunglasses and top hat so Clay wouldn’t recognize me and kick me out before I even began my audition.

When I entered the room, Clay was sitting behind a table with an unidentified male on his right and female on his left. Jerome, the bodyguard was standing in the doorway. He accidentally bumped my top hat, almost knocking it off.

I straightened it on my head before it fell and rushed over to the make shift stage set up in front of Clay’s table.

“Matti, is it?” His voice was beautiful and so was he. He was no more than 10 feet away from me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath. My heart was beating so hard and fast I just knew he could hear it.

“It’s the beating of the hideous heart!!” I shouted and clutched my chest.

“What?”

“Um… nothing. I’m going to dance now. This is a pirouette.”

“That is not a pirouette. You’re just kicking your leg back.”

“Well, yeah… these are called warm up pirouettes.” I kept kicking my leg back behind me. “Just let me get warmed up and then – “ My sunglasses fell of and our eyes locked. I felt dizzy and my throat swelled shut. I stopped kicking and started stammering about my history with the London National Royal Ballet Company.

“You’re not from London.” The female on his left interjected.

“You don’t know me! “I shouted. “She doesn’t know me.”

Before Clay could respond, Ryan came twirling past me in a flash. He was jumping and leaping back and forth in front of me shouting, “I can do it! I can do it!” He grabbed my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Come on, baby. Let’s show these guys what we can do!” I screamed when he spun me around and tried to dip me.

“Seacrest?” Clay said.

He let go of me and turned to Clay. “Hey Clay. What’s up dawg?”

“I thought trolls only came out at night.”

Ryan gasped and clutched his heart.

I squealed with delight. “A man after my own heart!”

Clay stood up and said to his people, “Screw this. I’ve got some friends that are dancers. Let’s just hire them.”

I waited until the three of them had left the room and then I took my top hat off and hit Ryan in the face with it. “Thanks for ruining things, Seacrest.”

Jerome walked calmly over to me. “You.”

“I know, I know. Out.”

He nodded and pointed toward the door.

“I hate you, Seacrest.” I muttered as he followed me to the exit.

We walked in silence to my car. When we got their, I threw my stuff in the backseat and turned to him.

“One time I saw this chick on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire that had to phone a friend for a two hundred dollar question about which direction a compass points. Everytime I think of her, it reminds me of you.”

“Hey! I know which direction a compass points!”

I crossed my arms and waited for him to answer.

He pulled out his cell phone. “Let me just call my dad real quick.”

He spoke real softly into the phone so I couldn’t hear. “Dad? It’s Ryan… no, the other one… no… your son!... I just have a quick question. Which direction does a compass point?.... No, I’m not kidding…. Dad, come on. There’s a girl here, I’m trying to impress her… What?!!... I’m not gay!!.... No!!... He was just a friend!... I told you, we were working on our abs! No!!.... well, I kinda like the Backstreet Boys… Dad!”

I got in my car and drove away.