He didn’t miss a single beat, even during the feverish crescendo that often tripped him up in rehearsals, and he crackled with such frenetic energy that he had to consciously temper his moves for fear of overplaying them. He didn’t even want to stop at the interlude, something he often couldn’t wait to do, the precious handful of seconds giving him just enough time to catch his breath and say a quick prayer for the strength to continue before staggering back into the fray. This time the interlude felt more like a nuisance than a respite, interrupting his flow when he was just warming up and forcing him to wait for the second phase to start, a phase also known as Krystal’s Brilliant Idea.
Taking position in the middle of the stage, where he’d hoped to die a violent death less than a minute previously, Danny quietly counted down as the music climbed towards the next heavy beat drop. The lights went out and the strobe began to pulse the way it had during the intro, blinding flashes that lit up the eyes of the crowd, all of them wide with excitement as they stared at Danny alone on the stage and wondered what he was about to do next until, suddenly, impossibly, he wasn’t alone anymore.
“Ready?” he said to the miniature, shabbier version of himself that had somehow appeared beside him in the split second between the flickering lights. Krystal had promised that the fabric they’d torn from Fanny’s couches had been thoroughly fumigated prior to running it through her sewing machine, but as he watched Will scratching himself like a guard dog at a flea farm, Danny once again wondered how he’d ever let Krystal talk them into this.
“Ready!” yelled Will as the beat kicked in. They started to dance in sync, shimmying, shaking, spinning, and strutting across the stage while the audience cheered so loudly that the music had to fight to be heard. They hadn’t had much time to practice. Danny’s only directive from Krystal had been to keep on dancing when Will appeared, and focus on nothing but his own performance. The real onus was on Will, whose job was to make sure that everything he did corresponded with everything his dad was doing. If his dad sped up, he sped up. If his dad slowed down, he slowed down. If his dad fell headfirst into the crowd, he fell headfirst with him in the hope of making it look like an orchestrated stage-dive. Whatever it took to maintain the synchronicity. The setup was far from ideal, and the plan was nerve-rackingly dependent on Danny following the script; but despite everybody’s concerns, his own included, Danny moved when he should have moved, he hit every beat on the list, his timing was down to the millisecond, and he didn’t even go near the crowd, never mind fall off the stage. Even if he had, everybody was far too busy dancing to notice.
“Where’s Krystal?” he yelled when the song arrived at its second, final interlude. He hadn’t seen her since she’d abandoned him backstage and he was concerned that something bad had happened, not to her but to whoever was stupid enough to mess with her.
“What?” shouted Will as he furiously scratched his arse.
“Krystal!” he said, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. “Where is she!”
“Behind you!” said Will.
Fully expecting to find Krystal grinning at him through the curtains, possibly giving him the finger or two, Danny turned around to find several women lined up on the stage behind him. Their eyes, lips, and noses were colored black and the rest of their faces were painted white. Each wore a matching panda costume complete with a headband sporting stubby little panda ears, and Danny had no idea which one was Krystal until the panda in the middle blew a bubblegum bubble.
“I’ll explain later,” she yelled, unable to see his face but sensing his confusion. “Just stick to the plan and leave the rest to us.”
Danny nodded dumbly, as if he’d just been told his cat had died when he didn’t even own a cat.
Turning to face the crowd, he took a deep breath and held it while he readied himself for the grand finale. His lungs burned, his muscles ached with every movement, his limbs felt heavier than waterlogged timber, and his inner thigh had been rubbed so raw that it probably looked like salami, but when the beat dropped for the third and final time, Danny dug as deep as he could and threw whatever he dredged from the bottom of his soul into that last sixty seconds. His energy stores had been thoroughly ransacked, so he borrowed the energy that came from the crowd, their whistles and cheers inspiring him to dance faster, to double down and push through no matter how much his heart threatened to pop from his chest like a fat man’s shirt button. He gave that performance everything he had, taking his body to its limits and beyond, so by the time the music came to an end, the climax galloping headlong into a sudden wall of silence, he once again felt the urge to clutch his chest and drop to his knees, only this time he wouldn’t be faking it.
He looked at Will beside him and the two of them shared a weary thumbs-up. He looked at Krystal behind him, who nodded with approval as she posed with the others. He looked at the crowd in front of him, their faces now illuminated by the giant spotlights that shone down upon them from every corner of the venue. And then, to chants of “Pandamonium!” that grew progressively louder until Danny could feel the sound in his bones, the women took a step forward, Danny and Will took a step back, each of them linked hands with the person beside them and bowed as applause exploded around them. Only one person remained silent and that was El Magnifico, who looked like he was trying to burn the entire venue to the ground.
“Pandamonium, everybody!” said the host as Danny, Will, Krystal, and her entourage took another bow and disappeared behind the curtain.
“I told you they’d love him!” said Krystal backstage, jabbing a fake fingernail at Will. “Didn’t I tell you they’d love him?”
“Whatever’s still living inside that fabric clearly loves him,” said Danny as Will wriggled out of his costume as if it were on fire. “I thought you said that thing was safe!”
“No, I said it was clean,” said Krystal. “I have no idea what they cleaned it with.”
“Why are my arms green?” said Will, holding up his forearms, which were now the color of Granny Smiths.
“Good question, Will. Why is he green, Krystal? Look at his arms! Look at his face!”
“My face too?” said Will, his panic rising.
“Oh yeah, the guy told me that might happen,” said Krystal. “Don’t worry, he said it’ll probably go away in a couple of weeks.”
“Probably!” said Danny.
“Weeks!” said Will.
“Look, it did the job, didn’t it? And anyway, it’s a small price to pay for bagging ten grand.”
“If we win,” said Danny.
“Are you kidding me? You totally smashed it out there.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” said Danny. “Nice touch with the backup dancers, by the way. I don’t know how you pulled that off, but, well, thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” said Krystal. “Thank Fanny.”
“Fanny?”
“She told the girls they could have the night off if they came down here to help you.”
“Really?” said Danny, taken aback. “She never struck me as the charitable type.”
“She is when she wants something,” she said, giving Danny a smile that instantly made him uncomfortable.