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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 17 hours ago

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Right? So fucking awkward and it would totally throw everything off. I’d probably end up losing my shit if it were me. Dieter is me in this situation. 😅

Did we expect anything less from him though? He has a tendency to just sort of blurt things out when under duress. This man would not survive an interrogation. 🤭

On a serious note though, he could have approached that news a little bit better. All it really did was make Kat spiral a little more because it was more pressure. It will all work out though. Have faith. 👀😅

Closed Position: Week 9 (Jazz)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 12.3K

👉 Fic Warnings: Sexual tension, mutual pining, angst, so much smut (we get a little dom and sub Dieter, intimacy, use of a sex toy, sex acts in public, spanking...really it's all too much to list here - it's Dieter, use your imagination), spicy language, themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by Dieter), past alcohol abuse, past drug abuse, and shitty parents. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Cat dad / plant dad Dieter comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: "You’re not trying to fuck me too, are you?”

Kat’s POV

I stood staring at my puffy eyes in the mirror, now all cried out after a sleepless night alone in my own bed. I sighed, wondering if Dieter would even show up for this morning’s scheduled production meeting. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t know what to say to him or if he would even speak to me. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t as I now realized how the things I said must have sounded. I was treating him like everyone else had, by not believing in him and taking his sobriety seriously. That wasn’t my intention. The problem was me, not him. However, I didn’t know how to make him see that without it sounding like I didn’t trust that he had changed. Truth be told, deep down, there may have been some doubt driving it all and I just didn’t want to admit it.

I puffed air out of my cheeks as I pulled my tank top off, my eyes dropping to the marks left by Dieter’s mouth on my breast. The memory of our Sunday morning exploits filled my thoughts. The way he knew me and my body without me ever having to say a word. How every second we spent together was filled with intimacy unlike anything I had ever experienced. This is why it was hard for me to understand why my mind was telling me that it was superficial and circumstantial.

I reached for the braid in my hair, pulling out the tie before working my fingers through it to loosen the strands from their confines. Dieter had been doing this for me. It had quickly become one of our morning rituals. My fingers didn’t feel the same as his. He wasn’t standing behind me, catching my gaze in the mirror with a smirk on his lips - and it was my fault. It was then I realized that I had given him everything, body and soul, and he still held those pieces. I knew that I would never get them back and I didn’t know how to handle it.

I could feel the tears threatening to fall again, but somehow managed to shake them off as I stepped into the shower. I stood there for a time, allowing the hot spray to run down my face and hopefully calm the swelling caused by my emotional state. I felt like a mess, but eventually settled into a hazy numbness that I knew would be needed to get through the day and probably the next four weeks.

I soon found myself walking toward Television City Studios without even remembering how I got there. The whole morning was a blur. I paused outside the door, allowing my eyes to scan the lot for Dieter’s car but I didn’t see it. I sighed in frustration, realizing I probably needed to have an excuse planned for Stacia and Joe in case he didn’t show up.

As I sat waiting, my leg bounced incessantly. My eyes shifted between the clock on the wall and the entry door, anxiously awaiting Dieter’s arrival. When one of the young PA’s came to call me back for the meeting, he still hadn’t arrived. I nodded and stood to make my way to the conference room. When I entered, Stacia and Joe eyed me before their eyes trailed toward the door.

Stacia was the first to speak, “Where’s Dieter?”

I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off before I said anything.

“I’m here,” Dieter called from the doorway as he rushed in to take the seat to my right. “Sorry, I got held up in traffic.”

I exhaled a shaky breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding. I chanced a glance in his direction. He was staring straight ahead at Stacia and Joe, not even bothering to acknowledge me. He was wearing a hat and sunglasses. I could just make out his creased brows as his jaw tightened. My eyes drifted down, noticing the rise and fall of his chest. His breathing was shallow, like he was having trouble catching a breath, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he kept a stony expression fixed on the two people sitting across the table from us. I noticed he had one hand fisted on his thigh, clenching and unclenching, no doubt leaving fingernail imprints on his palm as he did so.

I had to force myself to look away, my gaze now settling on Stacia and Joe who seemed to be watching us in silence. They were clearly already sensing the awkward energy between us. Stacia’s head tilted to the side, “What happened to you two last night? You weren’t there for the bottom three announcements.”

Dieter’s head turned toward me, that stony expression still on his face. I glanced over at him, but I couldn’t read him without seeing his eyes. I found myself wishing he would take those fucking sunglasses off.

I cleared my throat, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well. I uhh, got sick.”

Stacia’s left brow ticked upward, “Are you still feeling ill? Do we need to get someone else to step in this week?”

I shook my head, “No…No, I’m fine now. I think it was something I ate.”

Her eyes shifted between us. She definitely didn’t buy that. The tension between us was too obvious. There was no hiding it.

“Everything still going well between you two?” she asked.

I rubbed at my temple nervously. I didn’t know how to answer that.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Dieter said. His voice was gruff. Raw. Like he had just woken up, except there was an undertone of something else. Sadness maybe? He didn’t sound very convincing, and it made my chest ache.

They didn’t question it further, but I knew that they knew something was wrong. I could see it on their faces as they went through the motions of going through this week's routine. We would be doing Jazz, for which I was thankful. It was less intimate and would allow us to have some distance from each other. I didn’t pay any attention to the costume sketches. I stared at the pages without seeing them as I nodded in approval. I couldn’t even remember what the song of the week was as they wrapped up the meeting.

Dieter inhaled a deep breath and stood, not hesitating to head toward the hallway as Stacia asked me to hang back for a moment. Dieter glanced in my direction, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before he stepped out of the room. I gave Stacia a tight smile as Joe spoke up, “We just wanted to check in and make sure Alec is keeping his distance?”

The question caught me off guard. Alec was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I managed a nod, “Yeah…he’s keeping away. I’ve not had any issues with him.”

They both gave me tight smiles and nodded. “Good. Let us know if that changes, please,” Joe replied.

“Yeah, of course,” I agreed before standing. “Anything else?” I asked.

They shook their heads, and I took that as my cue to leave. As I said my goodbyes, I could feel their eyes on me until I was out of sight. Dieter and I had almost certainly set them into a tailspin with this development.

When I got to the lobby, I scanned the area for Dieter, but he was nowhere to be found. I knew it was wishful thinking, but he had come to the meeting. Hopefully he would come to rehearsal, too - give me a chance to clarify what I was feeling. I needed him to know that it wasn’t him. I needed to make him understand that much at least.

I left after that, my eyes still surveying the lot for him as I got into my car. He was long gone. I puffed air out of my cheeks as I decided to go pick up a quick lunch. I settled on fast food, realizing nothing looked appetizing as I stared at the menu board. I ended up with a grilled chicken sandwich that I didn’t really eat. I mostly just picked at it and nibbled on a few fries. I hated wasting food, but I just couldn't stomach it. I felt too disgusted with myself. I threw a handful of fries out for the waiting birds, then threw everything else in the trash.

After watching the birds devour the fries for a few minutes, I headed toward the dance studio for rehearsal. Dieter wasn’t there. I tried to ignore that twisted feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me he wasn’t coming, but it was hard. That feeling intensified with each passing second.

After twenty minutes, I decided to pull up our song to keep myself occupied. The song was called One Heart. I lay there on the floor with my eyes closed, thinking through possible choreography for the week while trying not to pay attention to the lyrics about a breakup and all the things left unsaid between two people. The producers really did have an unsettling ability to choose songs to fit the mood of the week.

Thirty more minutes passed, and Dieter was still a no show. I grabbed my phone to check if I had any messages. Nothing. He was almost an hour late. He wasn’t coming. I fought back tears at the realization. I don’t really know what I expected. I probably would have done the same thing if I were him, but I at least would have told him I wasn’t coming. I opened my messenger app and found his name.

Me: Are you coming to rehearsal?

I watched as the indicator immediately changed to “Read”. The three bubbles began bouncing indicating he was typing, but then stopped. This happened several more times before his reply finally came through.

Dieter: I can’t do it today. I’m sorry. I tried, but I can’t.

The tears that I had been holding in, finally slipped free. He didn’t have to say it. I could read between the lines. He was hurting. Because of me. I sat staring at the wall for a beat, forcing myself to feel the self-inflicted pain that I deserved. I wiped the tears away, then glanced back down at my phone. Hopeful as I typed out a reply.

Me: It’s ok. We can pick it up tomorrow.

I waited, watching the bubbles bounce, pause, then start again.

Dieter: Yeah, maybe.

Well, it wasn’t a no, and he didn’t tell me to fuck off. So, maybe it was a small win.

Instead of going home and licking my wounds, I stayed at the studio and worked on our routine. I did still have a job to do after all. It would be better to have something started than nothing at all.

I damn near had our entire routine planned out as I sunk into bed that evening, worn out and aching from pushing myself to go through it the best I could without a partner. Even though my body was tired, my mind was not. It was another restless night.

On Wednesday, I awoke feeling like my body was twisted in a knot. Everything hurt, but I persevered - taking a scorching hot shower and loading up on anti-inflammatory pain relievers. It helped enough to make it bearable. I felt almost human as I walked into the empty dance studio. To pass time, I began stretching. The anxious feeling quickly returned to the pit of my stomach, that fear that Dieter wasn’t going to show again. If he didn’t show today, I wasn’t sure if we would make it through this week.

An hour passed, and I lost hope. I wasn’t about to sit here for the full seven and a half hours if he wasn't planning to come. I took a deep breath as I reached for my phone.

Me: Just checking in…are you coming to rehearsal today?

It was marked as read almost immediately. I waited at least ten minutes before his response finally came through.

Dieter: Yes.

I suddenly felt nauseous. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see him, but I didn’t really have a choice. We still had a job to do.

Twenty-five more minutes passed, and he still hadn’t shown up. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I walked into the hallway and peered out the windows into the parking lot. I was surprised to see his car sitting in the front row. He was still in the driver's seat with his head leaned back against the headrest, not moving for several minutes.

Eventually, the door opened, and he stepped out. He stood there, staring toward the building as he raked a hand down his face. He sighed heavily as he leaned against the car and shook his head. Then he turned, sinking back into the driver’s seat. His feet were still planted on the pavement as he placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. I knew I shouldn’t be watching him, but I couldn’t help it. Some part of me needed to see this. To see what I was doing to him.

I wanted to go to him, but I didn’t feel like that would be the right thing to do. I didn’t want to send mixed signals because I still felt like we needed some space so that I could figure my stuff out. It wouldn’t be fair to string him along if I wasn’t sure what I wanted.

His hands slid upward, pushing his hair away from his brow. He sat with his hands on his head, staring at the pavement for what seemed like forever. He puffed air out of his cheeks, then finally stood. He turned to grab his phone, keys, and water bottle out of the car before walking toward the entrance. I took a deep, calming breath as I headed back to our assigned studio space.

It was several minutes before he finally entered the room. I assumed he had to give himself one last pep talk beforehand. He didn’t look at me as he walked over to sit his things down on a nearby chair. I could tell he was taking deep, controlled breaths as he turned to face me. He kept his head down, wringing his hands together as he approached.

Now that I was seeing him up close, without his sunglasses, I could see how tired he looked. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face looked puffy. His hair was a mess, like he had run his fingers through it a million times. His patchy beard was more scruffy than normal, sticking out in all directions. I wanted nothing more than to hug him.

He finally raised his head, looking everywhere but at my face. That hurt more than I realized it would.

“Dieter, I…” I started, but he held up his hand to stop me.

He shook his head, “I don’t wanna talk about it. We have a job to do. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll keep it professional, as requested.”

My heart was pounding in my ears. I was not expecting him to handle it like this.

“Can I just…” I began again, but he cut me off.

“No. If it’s not about the routine, I don’t wanna hear it.”

I sighed, accepting defeat. I could see the pain in his eyes, and it was killing me. I didn’t know what to say that would take it away. I realized there was nothing I could say to him right now that wouldn’t make it worse.

“Ok. Let’s go over what I have so far then. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

We got to work. The undercurrent of tension never ceasing as we went through the motions. Everything between us felt negatively charged. The dancing was different. Our connection fragmented. We no longer moved as one. It was messy, causing frustrations to rise as we both struggled through it.

When our rehearsal time was up, Dieter didn’t linger. He grabbed his belongings and told me to have a good evening and quickly exited the studio without a second glance in my direction. I was slower to leave, reaching my car about five minutes or so after he had left. I was surprised to find that he was still in the lot. He didn’t move to leave until I was in my car with the door shut. I guessed there were some habits that he wouldn’t be giving up.

I woke up on Thursday feeling just as shitty as the day before. I wasn’t taking care of myself, and my body wasn’t happy about it. Add that to the loneliness I was feeling and the sadness over Dieter and it made for a bad morning.

Not to mention that it was filming day, and I was absolutely dreading it. After how it had gone the previous day with Dieter, I wasn’t sure how things were going to appear anywhere remotely close to normal. I knew it would be obvious to anyone watching that something was off between us.

Dieter and I arrived at the dance studio close to the same time. The filming crew was already nearly finished with setup, so we got started with our stretches. There was no helping each other stretch or playful banter between us like there normally was. We were silent and avoided eye contact. It was already setting the stage for the massive blow up to come.

I could tell from the glances that the crew were shooting at each other that they were picking up on the weird vibes. It wasn’t like they were hard to miss. Things started off cordial between us, much like the previous day. However, it was clear there were lingering frustrations with the routine. Dieter was having a hard time focusing and picking up the steps. It was Jazz, not the typical ballroom stuff, so it did make things a little more complicated. I knew he was better than this though. I knew it was because his mind was on other things.

Three hours in, we were both still fumbling through the routine. We were completely out of sync and tripping over each other. The more I pointed out his mistakes and tried to correct them, the more frustrated he got. In turn, causing him to make more mistakes. I really wasn’t trying to pick on him, instead trying to stay focused on the choreography since we had cameras on us.

For the first time ever, we started bickering. The escalating tension was evident and only encouraged the camera crew to stick around longer than they normally would have. We were slowly turning into a ticking time bomb, arguing about everything aside from what we really needed to talk about.

It all finally came to a head as we practiced a lift. He didn’t lean his head back like he was supposed to as he hoisted me upward, which resulted in him getting knocked in the face by my knee. It wasn’t the first time I had accidentally hit him in some way while dancing, but it was the first time he almost dropped me because of it.

He scrambled to catch me just before my face smacked the ground, managing to gain control at the last second and set me down carefully as he let out a loud groan. His mic pack came unclipped from his waistband and banged against the floor next to my head as he turned away rubbing at his lower back. I reacted quickly, knocking it away before it swung at me. It was still hanging from the cord, dragging behind Dieter as he walked in a wide circle, pushing through whatever pain he was feeling.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

His eyes cut toward me, anger flashing in them in a way I had never seen. “No, I’m not fucking OK. I almost dropped you and I think I pulled something.”

His harsh tone made me flinch, surprising me more than anything. I watched as he turned to continue his pacing, then nearly tripped over the mic pack that was still trailing after him. He was clearly at his limit as he reached for the cord to lift the pack into his hand. Then he shocked us all by yanking the wire loose from his shirt and slung the whole thing toward the wall with enough force that it broke into several pieces. He promptly turned on his heel, muttering obscenities as he walked through the double doors, leaving us all in stunned silence.

All eyes eventually turned to me. I sucked in a sharp breath, realizing that the whole incident had been caught on camera. Fuck.

One of the crew asked me what was going on. So, I gave the best lie I could come up with in the moment. I shrugged, “We’ve been going nonstop for nine weeks. We’re tired, we’re old, and everything hurts. It’s just taking its toll.”

I finally stood from where I had been sitting on the floor, “I’ll go check on him.”

They moved to follow me, but I stopped them, reaching to remove my mic pack. “No. It’s better if you don’t come. Just…lemme talk to him in private, please.”

They relented, hanging back as I moved out to the hallway. I glanced around, but didn’t see him. His phone was still lying in the studio, so I didn’t think he had left. I decided to check outside, which is where I found him leaning against the side of his car. He had one arm wrapped around his torso, the elbow of the other propped on it as he rubbed at the crease between his brows. His entire body looked tense, coiled tight and waiting to explode.

I approached him cautiously, not even really sure of what to say because this obviously wasn’t about the rehearsal. I settled on, “Is your back OK?”

He scoffed, “Yeah…but I can’t do this. I can’t keep doing this. It’s too much for me.”

I sighed, “So, what? You’re just gonna quit?”

He shrugged, “It would be better than torturing myself.”

I felt like he had just knocked the wind out of me. I shook my head, “No, I’ll just ask to have someone replace me. You deserve to finish.”

He was shaking his head now as he stared at the ground, “No. I’m never dancing with anyone else. I can’t.”

I let out a humorless laugh, “I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long to get over it if you got a new partner. Dancing has a way of doing that.”

He scoffed, the hint of anger that I saw flash in his eyes earlier was back. “You have no right telling me about my feelings. I know what I’m feeling, and I know it’s real. You’re a hypocrite and a coward for believing otherwise.”

It was my turn to scoff, “Excuse me? How the hell am I a hypocrite and coward for trying to be honest with you about where I’m at emotionally?”

He gave me a deadpan stare, “Are you fucking serious right now? You preach about believing people can change and giving them second chances when you won’t even give me the first one. You’re too fucking scared to even try. Meanwhile you gave that abusive asshole how many chances? And I can’t even get one to prove myself to you. I’m never gonna treat you the way he did. I care about you too much to do that.”

I stood with my mouth agape, not even sure how to respond. He wasn’t wrong, I hadn’t really given him a chance. And deep down, I knew my choices were being driven by fear, but that didn’t mean my worries were any less legitimate.

“Dieter…it’s not that simple. This is complicated for me…and I just need…”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out in a rush.

“time…what?” I was convinced I heard him wrong.

His dark watery gaze was almost owlish as he stared at me, “I said, I’m in love with you…Kat.”

I felt paralyzed by his words. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I just stood there peering up at him in disbelief. He looked deflated when I didn’t say anything in return, and it crushed me. I wanted to scream the same sentiment from the roof tops, but I was too fucking scared. Admitting to those feelings was giving him too much control. It would mean that I was letting him in. All the way. And I still wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.

He took a step toward me, his eyes boring into mine as he continued. “You can choose not to believe me if you want…but I need you to know that’s where I’m at. I’ve never said those words to anyone in my life. No one has ever made me feel this way. That’s how I know it’s real. It’s not some bullshit on set hookup. It never was. I knew you were it for me at the beginning of our first rehearsal and that’s never gonna change.”

I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I wanted to close the distance between us, tell him I was sorry and wrong and beg him to forget everything I had said, but I couldn’t. The fear was still holding me back and somehow escalating to crippling levels with his words.

When I still didn’t respond, any remaining hope he had seemed to fade from his eyes. The crease between his brows was deeper than I had ever seen as his lips set into a tight line with a slight downward turn. He nodded, seeming to take my lack of response as his answer.

He reached into his pocket for his keys as he turned, opening the car door to get inside. I somehow managed to catch my breath and find my voice, “No, wait. I…just need time, OK? That’s all I’m asking for.”

He paused and sighed, not bothering to look my way as he responded. “If that’s all you can say to me right now, then I think I know where I stand. I just wish you would admit it.”

I shook my head as the tears fell freely, “Dieter…no. That’s not…”

He didn’t even let me finish before he got into the car, shutting the door and starting the ignition without another glance in my direction. I could see the pain etched on his face as he backed out of the parking space and disappeared from my sight.

Without warning, a sob burst from my chest. I was fucking this up so badly and I didn’t even fully understand why. He was doing everything right. He made me happy. I felt safe with him. We were amazing together. Yet, I was still holding back. His past did worry me, but he hadn’t given me any reason to doubt that he had changed. He couldn’t help that his past behavior lingered in the minds of others who now judged him incorrectly. I knew that, yet I was still letting it warp my feelings about who he was now. I knew most of this confusion and fear was being caused by Alec. I may have removed him from my life, but he was still controlling it - controlling me. I hated myself for allowing it.

Once I finally pulled myself together the best I could, I had to go back inside and tell the film crew we were done for the day. Internally I was fuming because I knew Stacia and Joe would find out about everything that just happened before I even stepped foot inside my house this evening.

I didn’t linger, I was packed up and out the door before the film crew. I realized Dieter had indeed left his phone, so I grabbed it to take with me. When I got home, I unlocked it to find Evan’s number so I could let him know that I had it. I was surprised to discover that the wallpaper was a picture of me cuddling Zee. It was one I hadn’t seen. I wasn’t even sure when he had taken it. It had me feeling teary eyed all over again.

(More good stuff after the images. Click to enlarge.)

I opened his contacts, shocked that he didn’t have many numbers saved. He wasn’t lying when he said he cleaned out his phone. It only took me a second to scroll down to Evan’s name to get his number.

After firing off a text to Evan, I opened Dieter’s photo app. I knew I shouldn’t, but curiosity got the best of me. He had an album called ‘Things to Remember’ that jumped out at me. It had random screenshots of quotes and recipes. There were also pictures of his Oscar, plants, Zee, and me. So many pictures of me that I didn’t know he had taken. It made me feel warm, causing my heart to race.

I wondered why he had these specific pictures in this album. Then I realized, aside from the quotes and recipes, it was a collection of moments he wanted to remember as they were - as he saw them. Just quick snaps of time to hold onto, almost like he expected them to disappear. Or like he needed a reminder that they were real. I wondered what he thought about when he looked at them. Did each one stir a specific emotion that he didn’t want to forget? It was the only thing that made sense.

Some of the pictures seemed so random. The first that stood out was me lying snuggled in his bed with my bare back exposed and bathed in sunlight, hair fanned out around my head. There was another of me in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his t-shirt as I made dinner. Another of me deep in concentration as I worked to carefully prune one of his plants. There were so many of me and Zee. I couldn’t help smiling as I looked through them, each one a reminder of how happy he made me. This was what I needed to focus on. Not all the static and noise from everyone else.

I turned my attention to screenshots of quotes. A couple of them made my heart clench in my chest. Especially the two most recent ones that were dated from the previous day.

“The sensitive suffer more; but they love more, and dream more.”

“I wanted you to see the mess and still find me worthy of love, to tell me that you could still love me anyway.”

I sighed, wiping away a few stray tears as I locked Dieter’s phone and put it on the table. Of all the ways I could have hurt him, this was the worst one. I wasn’t even sure if I could fix it if I wanted to.

A short time later, I received a text from Evan saying he would be by to pick up Dieter’s phone and drop off some of my things. The thought of Dieter removing traces of me from his home hurt. I couldn't blame him though. I probably would have done the same if I were him. Especially if he was hurting as badly as I now realized he was.

When I opened the door, Evan didn’t greet me. Instead, he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. I gave him a nervous smile and motioned for him to come inside. He came halfway into the entryway before spinning on his heel, holding out a tote bag in offering.

“Dieter wanted me to drop this stuff off. He thought you might need it while wallowing in self-pity...” He paused, gasping dramatically before continuing. “I mean…he didn’t say that last part. I did. Except I’m not allowed to talk to you about it.”

I gave him a tight smile, “I probably deserved that. It’s fine.”

His eyes surveyed me from head to toe before he finally said, “You look as shitty as he does. I don’t understand what happened…why it’s still happening… Can’t we just apologize to each other and live happily ever after? Because I need happy Dieter back. Sad Dieter is a pain in the ass to deal with.”

I could see why Dieter liked Evan. He really was no nonsense and had a way with words. I guess you have to when you’ve essentially been Dieter Bravo’s babysitter for half his life.

I sighed, “I’m sorry you're stuck in the middle of this. This isn’t…It’s not what I intended to happen. I really just wanted to press pause so I could have a minute to think…to process everything that’s happened…to make sure what we’re feeling is real.”

I moved to sit on the couch. Evan trailed behind and joined me. His face was empathetic as he took in my words.

“Dieter isn’t wrong. I’m scared. I’m feeling a lot of things, and I don’t really know how to process it all. A lot of it is new…and after what I’ve been through with my ex, it’s hard…to…I dunno. Let someone else in? I guess? I’m not really sure. I’m still trying to understand it myself.”

Evan rubbed at the tops of his thighs and sighed, “Well, since I’m not supposed to discuss any of this with you, I definitely didn’t tell you that he’ll forgive you and that he does understand that part. Not that we’ve had in-depth conversations about it or anything…”

I gave him a sad smile. He really was just as ridiculous as Dieter sometimes.

He paused, pulling his lips back as he sucked air through his teeth. “I’m also not telling you that it’s ok to worry about his sobriety and past behavior. It’s a natural human response, especially with his history. I do it every day. I saw his slow spiral and I’ve seen him at his worst. So, I feel like I can confidently say that he has changed. I see it…this is his best…and I worry less and less about it as time goes on. He’s committed now and he’s been doing so fucking good. I have no doubt that if you continue to be in his life, I’d never have to worry again. I’ve never seen him like this…with anyone. Trust me when I say that man is devoted to you in every way. You won’t have to worry about him sliding back into his old ways.”

The tears were falling again. This really was something I needed to hear. It helped smother my dumpster fire of thoughts just a little bit. I also didn’t feel as guilty for letting those things get to me.

“Thank you, Evan. That does hold some weight coming from you. I appreciate you not telling me.”

He smiled, “Can I give you a hug? I feel like you need a hug.”

I laughed, a genuine laugh and nodded. He gave me a real hug. Not a measly lean in and pat on the back. It was firm and warm, the kind that friends share. I was thankful for it.

When he pulled away, he cleared his throat. “Now, I am supposed to tell you that Dieter will be at rehearsal tomorrow. After a mini meltdown he called Lenny and begged to leave the show, but Lenny won’t let him…Actually, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Whatever. Anyway, he’ll be at rehearsal. I hope you two can figure this out. Call me if you need anything, yeah? Even if it’s to not talk about any of this.”

I gave him another sad smile as he picked up Dieter’s phone from the table and stood to leave. It hurt to know that Dieter did try to get out of the show, but at least we still had time to figure things out.

After all, time was the only thing I was asking for.

Dieter’s POV

This week had been literal hell for me. I spent Monday night blaming myself. I knew that something was going on with Kat. I could sense her pulling away. I had told myself not to push her and to give her space, only offering support when she needed it. In the past, that had worked. It had been what she wanted. So, I stayed the course this time, trusting that she would talk to me about whatever was bothering her when she was ready. That’s where I had gone wrong. I should have pushed harder. Perhaps if I had, she wouldn’t have spiraled in such an epic way.

I never would have dreamed that she had reached the point of effectively ending things in this way. She said she needed time, but her reasoning for it was a punch to the gut. It hurt like hell to know that she didn’t believe in me, especially after the bullshit she said about believing in second chances. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of second chances as far as my career, and let’s be real - continuing to be alive. Kat hadn’t even given me the first chance though. Not really. She had decided to nope out of it before I even had a chance to fuck things up. The worst part was, I couldn’t really blame her. I never felt worthy of her. Deep down I knew it was too good to last.

And just like that, my self-hatred spiral was back in force. After staying up most of the night I decided that I could manage it and push through. Put a pause on things like she asked and go back to being professional for the sake of the show and my career. My resolve was already faltering when I left for our production meeting on Tuesday. I ended up driving in circles around the studio for at least twenty minutes before I dug up the courage to park and go inside. The timing ended up working out, being called to the conference room as soon as I walked in the door.

If I had come early and been forced to make small talk with Kat beforehand, I wouldn’t have made it through the meeting. I barely made it through as it was. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her without nearly bursting into tears. Having to sit next to her and hear her voice was bad enough.

When the meeting was over, I exited the room like the building was on fire, but not before catching a quick glimpse of Kat. I realized she looked just as tired and broken as I did. I wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and tell her it would be OK, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well. Truth be told, I didn’t know how to act around her now. I was never going to be able to pick up where we left off before New York. It was impossible. Too much had happened between us for that. Those thoughts only seemed to ramp up my anxiety about the situation and turned me into a wound up, bumbling mess. I knew I couldn’t go to rehearsal like that. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. I felt like such an idiot over the whole thing.

With great effort, I somehow managed to get it together enough to show up for rehearsal on Wednesday. Though I probably would have been better off not going. Things between Kat and I were tense. Broken. We absolutely could not get on the same page. I knew most of it was my fault because I couldn’t focus. It hurt too much to be near her. I couldn’t even look at her directly without my bottom lip quivering like a fucking child.

It didn’t take long for the frustration to set in. I was slowly falling apart, and I knew it. The more I tried to get it together the worse things got, and it was pissing me off. That frustration reached a boiling point while we were filming on Thursday. I almost dropped Kat. If I had, she surely would have gotten hurt, which made me hate myself even more for how ridiculous I was being. She almost got hurt, because of me. It was just too much.

Looking back, I wasn’t proud of how I reacted in that moment. Somehow the old Dieter busted loose from his confines and decided to show his ass for a minute. That’s when I knew that I needed to step away. I was slipping.

I wish I had just left as soon as I went to the car. I knew Kat would come looking for me. I knew she would confront me. What I hadn’t expected was my sudden outburst telling her how deep my feelings really were. It wasn’t the time for it, but I think part of me thought it would make her realize that I was all in for this. Maybe she would see how ridiculous she was being and say everything was going to be OK, but that’s not what happened. She just stood there staring at me like I had three heads and said nothing.

I felt like I had made an ass of myself. I regretted it the second the words left my mouth. However, there was some part of me that was happy it was out there now. At least she knew where I stood, and she could do with it as she pleased. The fact that she didn’t seem to reciprocate the sentiment was hitting me hard though. I would have been better off not knowing.

What happened after that wasn’t my proudest moment. I drove to Evan’s house and essentially had a meltdown on his couch. He did not know how to handle that situation because it was a first. Realizing I had left my phone at the studio, I made him call Lenny so I could beg him to get me off the show. I offered to fake an injury if need be. I wasn’t above it at this point. Lenny’s response was that I needed to put my big boy panties on and that I needed to learn to deal with the consequences of my actions and stop dipping my dick where I work. He wasn’t wrong, but this was different. It was Kat. Not some random hookup.

Evan followed me home after that and put up with my manic frenzy to gather up Kat’s things so that they were out of sight. I couldn’t handle seeing the traces of her in my house. It hurt too much. I needed a clean slate so I could reset. Otherwise, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do this.

Kat had apparently texted Evan to let him know she had my phone. I shoved him out the door with a bag of her things and gave explicit instructions not to discuss any of this with her while he was there to get my phone. He looked completely exasperated as I slammed the door in his face.

I stayed up pretty much the entire night, alternating between snuggling Zee, plant care, and painting. I couldn’t shut my mind off and felt the need to keep busy, so I didn’t turn to darker methods of coping. I finally fell asleep as the sun was rising, but it wasn’t for long because I had rehearsal.

I slept through my alarm and ended up being an hour late. I was in a bad mood as I made my way into the studio, firing off a quick bullshit response about scheduling conflicts to Dr. Smith’s questions about why I was a no show for my therapy session this week.

When I entered the studio, Kat looked torn between being pissed and empathetic. I knew I looked like shit. I hadn’t even bothered to wash all the paint off my hands before I left the house. She looked like she was about to say something that I wasn’t really in the mood to hear, so I cut her off before she could get the words out.

“Let’s just stick to the topic of dance, please. I don’t think we really need to discuss anything else at this point.”

I still couldn’t look at her, not directly. It was torture. Instead, I looked past her, focusing on the wall at the back of the room as she nodded. We got to it after that. I somehow managed to shut my mind off, going completely numb as we worked in mostly silence. The only words shared between us were about the routine.

Saturday and Sunday rehearsals went pretty much the same way, except I somehow managed to show up on time. Not that I was feeling any better or was able to get any rest. I was just going through the motions. Existing really. Shutting everything off was the only way I could get through this without turning to old habits.

That doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel the distance growing between Kat and me. I felt it every second of the day. I knew she felt it too. I could see it in the way she looked at me in those few instances I managed a quick glance at her face. It was weighing on her, but I reasoned that it was because of how hard I was taking it. Not because she loved me back.

Monday, I woke up feeling anxious, not knowing how the day was going to go. I knew this show day was going to be different and I was dreading it. I arrived at the studio at my usual time. Kat was there as well, which meant we were first to go through camera blocking. It was obvious that we were still not on the same page, both of us making several mistakes on each run through. When we were finished, she gave me a few pointers. Then she disappeared. I assumed she went to her dressing room or maybe to do her final costume fitting.

It felt strange not having her by my side. Others seemed to notice her absence as well, giving me odd glances as I passed by. The whispers started when I showed up for hair and makeup alone. No one would ask me directly, but I could hear the hushed murmurs wondering where Kat was. It definitely didn’t help my sour mood and I’m sure the scowl on my face was only fueling it further. It was a ruthless cycle.

After having a quick costume fitting, I headed to the main ballroom for our dress rehearsal. It was the first time I had seen Kat since camera blocking. We had somehow managed to successfully avoid each other all morning. She looked beautiful as always, wearing some sort of pink fringe thing that looked amazing against her glowing skin. Her face told another story though. She looked tired and sad. I was suddenly worried she hadn’t been taking care of herself like she should. I hated myself all over again for being the reason behind it if that were the case.

I walked over to stand next to her, waiting for our turn. She briefly glanced up at me before turning her gaze downward toward the floor. I inhaled deeply, trying to keep my composure. Everything about this felt wrong and I hated it.

Minutes later, we were called up to go through our routine. On the first run through, I took a wrong step and nearly tripped over her. They made us start over. The second run through went a little better, but the minor mistakes were still happening. We were both making them. This led to more whispers among the cast as we exited the ballroom.

We both went back to our respective dressing rooms after that. Kat walked ahead of me, not looking back as she closed the door behind her. I rubbed at my face, puffing air out of my cheeks as I passed her door to go to mine. This really was fucking torture.

I sat alone in my dressing room after that. I felt lonelier than I ever had, to the point that it was making me sick. This space didn’t feel the same without Kat in it. There was a layer of nervousness there too. I knew this performance would not be one of our best. The competition was down to six couples. It’s not like we had a lot of room to be fucking up at this point. I knew this could be the one that got us voted off the show. Part of me almost welcomed that outcome so that I could get away from the stress of it all. The other part worried it would be the last time I would see Kat and didn’t want it to end.

Before I knew it, we were being called to the staging area for the show to start. I found a spot to watch the show from, trying not to pay attention to the odd looks as I stood alone. I eventually sensed Kat’s presence. She appeared beside me, arms hugging her body as she watched the opening performance. The air felt charged between us, but not in the same way it usually was. It felt thick and suffocating. It made it hard to catch my breath. For the first time in weeks, I found myself wanting alcohol, just so I could get through this. I hated myself for it.

We were soon called to take our places as this weeks behind the scenes footage played on the screens. They were definitely playing up the drama I had caused. I hadn’t really considered how that was going to look to the audience or thought of a response if asked about it. It made my anxiety ramp up just a little bit more. For the first time in days, I met Kat’s gaze fully and held it as we took our places. I could see the worry in her eyes. She knew this wasn’t going to go well as much as I did.

And it didn’t.

There were no smiles between us as we danced. Just concentration and disappointment as we powered through our screw ups. We had a hard time staying in sync, even getting off rhythm a couple of times. It wasn’t a terrible performance, but it wasn’t a week 9 performance. I looked like a rookie in my first week with messy footwork and bad timing.

When we finished, all I could do was shake my head and let out a controlled breath as I followed Kat over to the interview area. They of course asked me what was going on this week. I followed Kat’s explanation of being old and tired and tried to laugh it off. The judges were not impressed. They tore the performance apart and expressed their disappointment, making sure to let us know this wasn’t the time to drop the ball because the remaining couples are going to be tough to beat even when we were performing at a high level. My stomach sank, convinced that tonight would be our last night. They gave us two sixes and two sevens, which was higher than I was expecting. However, it was the lowest score of the night.

Through all of this, Kat stood silently beside me with her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on something in the distance. She looked like she was completely disassociating. After they read off our scores, she crossed in front of me to exit the stage, pinching the bridge of her nose as she went. My chin dropped to my chest as I followed behind her.

Production Control Room

The production control room was buzzing with activity as the staff worked to certify audience and viewer votes before time to announce the bottom three couples. Stacia and Joe sit impatiently waiting for the results. Both are frustrated by the turn of events with Dieter and Kat. While the drama from rehearsals was definitely setting social media ablaze with speculation, they knew there was a real danger their star couple could be voted off the show after such a lacking performance. When the results are handed over to the two executive producers, they are shocked, but relieved to find that Dieter and Kat placed third in the group of six.

Stacia sinks back into her seat in relief but is contemplative as she eyes Joe. She begins writing the results down on the card that is to be delivered to the host, but Joe grabs her hand to stop her progress as he gives her a pointed look. “What are you doing? We agreed to never tamper with the results…”

She sighed, “It’s not really tampering. The bottom two will still be the same. I just need to give them a little wakeup call so that they get their shit together. Another week of this and they’re gone…and fucking Alec will still be here. What do you think that’ll do to ratings? Especially if word ever gets out about what he actually did to her...”

Joe pulled his hand back, staring at Stacia in thought before nodding for her to continue. Stacia finishes writing in Dieter and Kat’s name and passes the card off to a production assistant to run the results down to the host.

Now all they can do is sit back and wait to see if this play has the intended effect.

Dieter’s POV

When we were called to the stage for the bottom three announcement, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. We ended the night with the lowest score from the judges. The only hope I had left was that the Dieterina Stans voted to keep us around for a little longer, but I wasn’t confident about it.

As the host began calling off the couples that were safe, I could feel my anxiety going up another notch with each name that wasn’t ours. Before I knew it, they were announcing the names of the bottom three couples - which included Kat and me. Then they cut to commercial break. I had to work double time to keep myself from falling apart. I knew this wouldn’t just be the end of our time together on the show, but maybe even the end of whatever I was trying to work toward. She would have no reason to see me after this. She might not want to.

In the midst of my internal spiral, I felt a hand slide against my arm. I glanced down to see Kat’s fingers lacing through mine. I peered over at her, she was staring at me with tears in her eyes. I had to look away, or else I was going to lose it. That didn’t stop me from giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as the on air indicator flickered back to life. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it gave me some hope that maybe this wasn’t over.

We stood tightly gripping each other's hands as we waited for the next name to be called. I held my breath, damn near passing out before they finally called out our name as being safe. Kat and I both let out a sigh of relief, both of us smiling in each other’s presence for the first time in a week.

As we exited the stage, Kat seemed to get emotional. I asked her if she was OK, but she waved me off as she exited to the hallway. I raked a hand down my face, unsure of how to proceed after the moment we had just shared on stage. I decided to follow after her, assuming she had gone to her dressing room, but she wasn’t there.

I sighed, as I looked around the hallway that was slowly filling with cast members. She was nowhere in sight. So, I decided to go to my dressing room and wait. After changing out of my costume, I hung it outside the door for pickup and purposefully left the door open so that Kat would know I was here.

I was packing up my bag when movement by the door caught my attention. Any excitement that I might have had was quickly deflated when my eyes locked with Anika’s as she came sashaying into the room like a predator ready to pounce on prey.

I sighed, “Anika, is there something I can help you with?”

Her lips curled upward as she spoke in a sickly sweet voice, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after that. Seems like you had a rough night.”

My brows furrowed, “I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.”

She moved to stand in front of me with a look of concern, “Are you sure? You seemed pretty upset out there. I thought maybe we could go grab some dinner and talk about it.”

Fuck. Here we go. I gave her a tight lipped smile, “That’s nice of you to offer, but I’m waiting for Kat.”

She gasped, seeming shocked. “Really? Well, I saw Kat leave.”

My face fell. There was no hiding my disappointment. I realized maybe I was an idiot for hoping. The hurt and pain at that realization settled into my chest and squeezed hard. Anika moved in closer, placing her hand on my arm. I stared at it, not really sure how to react.

“You know, we could just go back to my place and hang out…if you need a distraction.”

Her hand began to slide up my arm just as I raised my head to meet her gaze, “Huh?”

She was smiling again as her hand settled on the back of my neck, “You know, something to take your mind off things…off Kat. I can make you dinner…or do other things…”

There were a few seconds that I actually considered the offer - suddenly craving the rush and distraction I knew it would give me, but I quickly dismissed it because I’m no longer that person. I gave her a crooked smile and laughed nervously, tilting my head back as she suddenly leaned in, her hand pulling my head forward as she crashed her lips against mine. Everything about it felt so wrong. I honestly felt like I was going to be sick as I pushed her away just in time to see Kat’s back walking toward the exit.

“Fuck,” I huffed out in frustration. “You know what Anika, I’ve tried being nice and letting you down easy…but I’m just gonna say it. I’m not interested. Not now. Not ever. So, I’m going to need you to leave this room and never step foot in it again.”

She scoffed, “Geez, you don’t have to be such an asshole about it.”

I let out a humorless laugh, “Well, you’ve caught me at a bad time, and you just royally fucked things up for me. So imma need you to go. Now.”

I watched her stomp out of the room. Once she was gone, I ran toward the exit to find Kat, but she was nowhere in sight. I leaned back against the exterior wall, trying my hardest to keep it together. There was no coming back from this and I knew it. I knew how that had to look. Kat would never believe anything I had to say.

An hour later, I found myself seated at the bar of a local tavern, staring at a full tumbler sitting between my hands. I was officially at the end of my rope and heading for a spiral if I didn’t pull it together within the next few minutes. As I moved to take a sip from the glass, someone sat down beside me.

“I really hope I’m not about to witness Dieter Bravo fall off the wagon.”

I paused just before putting the glass to my lips and turned to find the last person I ever expected sitting beside me. Lana. She had a sly smile on her face as she eyed me.

“I know you had a bad night, but I promise that shitshow is not worth compromising yourself over.”

My lips tugged upward as I sat the glass down, I couldn’t help it. “It’s ironic that you’re the one coming to my rescue. You’re not trying to fuck me too, are you?”

She snorted out a laugh, “Absolutely not. What kind of person do you take me for? I’m not a cheater.”

There was something almost sarcastic in her tone. It took me by surprise. “Speaking of cheaters, where’s Alec? Do I need to be concerned about my safety?”

Her face fell slightly, “No, you don’t need to worry about that. Not tonight. I’m sure he’s off fucking someone else for the evening, which suits me just fine. He’s a shitty lay.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, I’ve heard. So, all is not well in paradise I take it?”

Lana rolled her eyes, “It was never paradise. I’m just doing the job I was hired to do. As soon as the show’s over, I’m heading to London for filming with hopes of never laying eyes on Alec Balaska again.”

I never thought it possible, but Lana Thompson officially had my full attention. My drink was forgotten as I turned to face her fully, “What do you mean the job you were hired to do?”

She had a grin on her face that could rival the Cheshire cat, “Dieter, surely you know there are strings being pulled behind the scenes?”

I nodded, “Of course, but I don’t actually know the details…”

The bartender came by, and Lana took a moment to ask for a glass of water, which shocked me. Then she turned to me, leaning in slightly before she spoke.

“Obviously you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone because if Alec finds out…well…I’d rather not be on the receiving end of that. Anyway, there was a last minute scramble with casting when you insisted on being partnered with Kat. The only reason they let it happen was because I agreed to make moves to split Kat and Alec up. They paid me extra for it. I mean…fucking the guy wasn’t part of the deal, but it was the only way I could get any sway over him. I had originally planned the paparazzi pictures out, so he would look like the asshole and not Kat. I hadn’t planned on her seeing what she saw. I do actually feel like shit about that…”

I was stunned by this news. It was completely unexpected. “Why did you need him to look like the asshole?”

She chuckled, “Isn’t it obvious? They wanted to clear the way for you and Kat to get together without any backlash. You two are the fan favorites this season. It was apparent from the first week. They’re giving the audience what they want…a love story where the underdog gets his shit together and gets the girl, along with amazing dancing. The way I see it, I did you two a favor. I was happy to do it too. Kat deserves better than what she had. He was an asshole to her.”

I stared at her for a beat, trying to process everything she was saying. I should probably be mad over the lengths Stacia and Joe were going to in order to manipulate us all, but I couldn’t be. The chance to have Kat in my life was a win in my book, but I had totally fucked it up.

“So, you're OK being labeled a homewrecker then?” I asked.

She gave me a sad smile, “You know how it is, especially when your career is on the downward slope…even bad press is good press. Besides, if anyone cares to ask me…he told me that he and Kat were over. How was I supposed to know he was lying?”

She shrugged with a mischievous glint in her eye. I laughed, “Ahh, well played then.”

The bartender set the glass of water down in front of Lana. She took a small sip before turning her attention back to me. “So, what’s going on with you and Kat? From the looks of it after New York, I thought everything was going well.”

I sighed, “I’m not even really sure. She asked to put a pause on things until the show is over. I guess it was too much, too fast. I mean, we did just kind of jump into it. She sort of insinuated that she’s having a hard time with my past, like maybe…she doesn’t trust that I’ve fully changed. I thought she was the one person who was giving me a fair shot, ya know? It really hurt to hear it from her. So, I guess we’re just trying to sort through our feelings.”

Lana’s lips set into a tight line, “Have you told her how you really feel though? Or are you being the typical idiot male and dancing around the topic of big feelings.”

My brows furrowed, “Excuse me?”

She laughed, “Have you told her you love her?”

I blinked at her a few times, “Who ever said that I’m…”

She rolled her eyes, “Fucking hell. Both of you are idiots. It’s obvious. Everyone can see it. You both do a shit job at hiding it.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve been told that a couple of times…But to answer your question…yes. I sort of told her in the middle of my meltdown earlier this week. It wasn’t my best moment. I admit, the delivery could have been better.”

Her perfectly sculpted brow arched, “And? What did she say?”

I laughed humorlessly, “She didn’t really say anything. She just stared at me.”

She snickered, “You two really are idiots...Look, it probably took her off guard. Stunned her a bit…especially if her head is a mess of emotions. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how bad things got between her and Alec, but I do know she was making him go to therapy, anger management, and AA meetings. Now, he wasn’t actually going because he doesn’t care enough to fix himself…but if she was making him do all that, I know it had to be bad. They were together for a long time. Being with someone like that for that long…it’s a serious mind fuck. It makes you doubt yourself…doubt your worth. I’ve been where she’s at, so I get it. I don’t think it’s so much about you not changing as it is about her feeling like she’s not enough to make you happy. And when addicts aren’t happy…what do they do? Go back to old habits. She’s been made to feel like she’s a burden and unworthy of being loved…like she’s the problem. I don’t really know anything about your past, but given your chosen coping mechanisms, I’d wager that you know a thing or two about that?”

I nodded, letting her words settle in. I hadn’t really considered things from this angle even though I should have given my past. It somehow made the hurt I was feeling less painful because I realized Kat was hurting in her own way too. In a way that I completely understood. After talking with Evan, I realized a lot of this was because of Alec, but I had been missing the most crucial parts.

“It’s possible that Kat is struggling to understand what she’s feeling. Being abused physically, emotionally…it really warps your sense of self. It’s confusing and it takes some time to work through. I think if you can be strong enough to give her the space to do that, she’ll come around. In the meantime, be there for her. Support her. Show her how you’re really feeling…don’t make it more complicated than it needs to be because at the end of the day…it has nothing to do with you.”

Fuck me. Lana was right. I was handling this completely wrong. I sat staring at the full tumbler in front of me again, suddenly feeling lost and unsure of how to proceed.

Lana took another sip of water before smiling, “You know…you probably don’t remember this. We worked on a movie together many moons ago. I was just starting out…playing a barista for one scene. I remember being completely repulsed by you that day…you were such a fucking ass.”

My gaze shifted back to her, my brows furrowing as I searched my memories. I shook my head, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember this...”

She laughed quietly, “No, I don’t think you would. I’m pretty sure you were stoned out of your mind. You told me to go get you a coffee during a break. I think you called me ‘sugar tits’ somewhere in the middle of that demand too? Then I told you to go fuck yourself. Another crude joke followed. You had completely forgotten about the interaction by the time the film was rolling again.”

I rubbed at the crease between my brows, “Yeah…I know I was a dick back then. I’m really sorry…”

She cut me off, “I’m not looking for an apology. My point is…I see you. I’ve been on the periphery of your spiral for years…I’ve seen it at parties, at award shows…you’re not that person anymore. Anyone who can’t see that is fucking blind or they just don’t care to. I can tell you’ve turned into a good person. Someone worthy of Kat, so don’t let those doubts get to you, OK?”

I felt a lump forming in my throat. Of all people, Lana fucking Thompson got it. The whole situation. I had to clear the lump before I could speak, “I actually appreciate that. Thank you.”

She smiled, “Now, Imma need you to go get your girl and fix this. Please. I’m a massive Dieterina Stan and I cannot stand to witness this mess any longer.”

I barked out a laugh but quickly sobered. “That may be easier said than done. I really fucked up tonight. I doubt she’s ever gonna speak to me again.”

Her brows knitted together, “What the fuck did you do now?”

I sighed, “Anika invited herself into my dressing room after the show and kissed me. The door was wide open, so I’m pretty sure Kat saw it. After I pushed Anika off, I saw Kat walking away.”

Lana gasped, “Fucking Anika. I swear she is nothing but trouble.” She shook her head, seeming deep in thought for a moment. “Look, just…do what I said. Kat will come around. I know it. This thing with Anika will sort itself out.”

I gave a dismissive laugh, “Yeah…I guess we’ll see about that.”

She gave me a pointed look, “Yeah, we will. Now…you need to get out of this place before it ends up all over TMZ tomorrow. As a matter of fact…”

She reached for the tumbler in front of me, then put it to her lips and took a big gulp of it. She jerked it away from her mouth as her face scrunched up in disgust, “Ugh, what the fuck is that?”

I shrugged as I held in my smile, “Cranberry juice.”

She gave me an admonishing look, “You could have warned me…and here I was thinking it was some sort of mixed cocktail.”

I snickered, “It wouldn’t have been funny if I told you.”

She shook her head, “You may be sober, but the chaos demon lives on…”

I couldn’t help it, I cackled over that. “Ehh, I’m more like a mischief maker these days. The chaos demon was my past life.”

She laughed as I stood from my seat. “Well, Lana, it’s been…an educational evening. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy I ran into you. Thank you.”

She gave me a genuine smile, “Anytime. Let me know if I can help with anything.”

I nodded, giving her a small wave as I made my exit.

I went home after that, feeling slightly better about things. If only the Anika thing hadn't happened. That was my biggest obstacle at the moment. I laid down on the sofa, welcoming Zee for a cuddle as I considered my options. Once she settled on my chest and began dozing off, I grabbed my phone. I had a text from Marc asking if I was doing OK after how things had gone tonight and offered his ear if I needed to talk. I appreciated the sentiment and told him as much, promising to get together to grab lunch or dinner soon so we could chat. It would be nice to have a distraction for a little while.

Then I opened Instagram. I was expecting the worst, but I actually had a lot of positive and encouraging comments from fans. It definitely helped the bad mood a little. Then I opened my DMs, realizing I had a message request from someone named Lydia Brown. I was intrigued, so I opened it.

“Hey Dieter, this is Kat’s sister. If you ever tell her I sent this, I will not speak to you again.

Anyway, I talked to her earlier right after the show aired. She’s kind of a mess right now, but I want you to know that she is in love with you. She told me as much. She just doesn't know how to process everything right now. Please don’t give up on her. She’s getting there.”

I huffed out a breath, “Yeah, and I bet you didn’t hear about my latest fuck up yet.”

I tossed my phone on the coffee table and wrapped my arms around Zee, scooting her up closer to my face so I could bury my nose in her fluffy fur. She groaned in protest but rolled over to rub her head against the scruff of my chin before she began purring.

I squeezed her a little tighter, “Don’t worry baby girl, Imma figure out how to get your momma back.”

Next: Week 10

✨ Here is a fun little Jazz video to go along with this depressing chapter that really didn’t focus on dancing at all. It was all about the angst this time. Sorry. 😬

A/N: Good afternoon/evening my lovelies! I hope you are doing well after all the angst. So much happened in this chapter worth discussing. Our sweet Dieter and Kat are struggling, but they are limping along and trying their best. Are we shocked they were even able to rehearse? Are we shocked they had a shitty performance?

Speaking of the performance, are we mad that Joe let Stacia fudged the bottom three results? Stacia obviously isn’t a fan of Alec…does that get her any brownie points? 😂

And then we got Evan and Lydia coming in for a save. Do we think they should be getting in the middle of all this? Also, I love Evan. I just needed to say that.

Now for the elephant in the room…Lana. How do we all feel about her now? Still hate her? Conflicted? Love her? I need to know your thoughts.

How do we think this is all going to play out? How is Dieter going to get his woman (and Zee’s momma 🥹) back after that whole Anika debacle?

Come scream at me about it all! I wanna know your thoughts.

Coming up in the next chapter…

I know the chapter title says it will be the Quickstep, but I may switch it up to the Lambada, just because. We shall see.

Kat gets scolded by her sister.

Kat tends to her plants with thoughts of Dieter on her mind.

Dieter does another Instagram live

Serious conversations are had

We finally find out what the song was that they danced the Viennese Waltz to

Lastly, In case you missed it... new fic in the works.

That’s all I’ve got for today. 💜Mysty

CP Taglist:

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@girlofchaos @trulybetty @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @pedrostories

@darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dancing dieter #the angst is angsting #reblog love

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 23 hours ago

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Thank you for the love @darkheartgatita! 💜

Also, that gif has me cackling so hard! 🤣🤣😅