“Dance with us!” Daisy says.
A Britney Spears remix plays with a heavy bass that I can feel in my bones.
Daisy takes my hand and drags me into the group. I don’t immediately find my rhythm—which is particularly embarrassing for someone who has memorized choreography for so many shows and music videos—hesitant to join the mass of bodies but lacking the confidence to say no.
It doesn’t help that I feel like a stale cracker. Objectively, I know that thirty is not old, but compared to people like Daisy, I am somewhat past my prime. It’s been at least five years since I spent any real time on the dance floor at an event, or even gone out with friends in general. Not since R3ina and Ashleigh and Genevieve. Another area where I struggled to find my rhythm again. The parties I do go, to I usually find a way to spend most of my time talking, or sneaking out to places like The Habitat.
Gradually, though, my body starts to take over, helpless each time the base thumps and the “Toxic“ violins slither from high notes to low ones.
I must have been eight or nine when this song came out. Even at that age, I studied pop stars like a religion. When YouTube gotbig and I could watch videos on repeat, you bet I was learning choreography from all the greats. People were uploading copies of videos from the 80s and early 90s that I never would have seen otherwise.
Like muscle memory, Britney’s onstage routine for this comes back to me—which I learned from clips of live shows, not from the official video where she’s basically just writhing on the floor. I can’tnotdo the moves.
Daisy looks at me and grins, joining in on the arm movements and chest pumps with perfect accuracy.
No fucking way.
She does it with more vigor, encouraging me to really get into it. I try to hold back, but her energy is contagious.How did she learn this?
Come to think of it, Daisy dances in her live shows a little too (she comes up on my YouTube Shorts sometimes). Mostly footwork so she can hold a sparkly microphone (I’ve never seen her use an earset), and she has a few background dancers. It’s been one of the things that’s made her stand out in country and also broadened her appeal to pop fans. Watching her sharp moves, I think she probably has the skills to do way more elaborate shows, but I’m guessing her team doesn’t let her since country isn’t big on choreography.
We move in sync and soon gain attention from those around us. Madison is able to pick up on some of the moves too, which reminds me she was in a bunch of those choreographed musicals as a teen.
A handful of what appear to be semi-professional dancers converge on us, getting into the same routine. TikTokers, probably, or maybe backups for other artists.
Several guests pull out their phones for videos.
We’re all belting the lyrics, none of us is worried about how we sound. “‘Intoxicate me now, with your lovin' now, I think I'm ready now, I think I'm ready now’ …”
When we hit that final whining violin stroke, we hold the last pose and the crowd goes wild.
“That was amazing!” Daisy says as we skirt the edge of daXx’s pool with the other girls in search of something to quench our thirst.
“Where’d you learn that?” I ask.
“Ten years of dance,” Claire tells me on Daisy’s behalf.
Daisy nods. “My team did ‘Toxic’ for competition one year. Won third place. You?”
“Just a longtime Britney fan,” I say. “How come you never do big dance routines during your concerts? You’re incredible—and apparently experienced.”
“Aww, thank you! Well, I’ve been pushin’ for it, but I just barely got my team to let me release a pop version of ‘Boy Toy’ and only ‘cause it’s doin’ so well on the charts already. You know how labels can be; it’s important to stay in your lane and all that.”
I think of Riff and everything he’s likely faced with his genre limitations. “Do you ever want to … make other kinds of music?”
“Oh no,” she says with a swat of her hand. “I love country. Never wanna quit. I just want to expand on it a little, you know? Not be confined to what people think it has to be, whether it’s performance-wise or sound-wise.”
“Or content-wise,” says Lauren with a smirk.
Yes, Daisy has pushed her limits with the clever double-entendres. Her more conservative listeners tend not to appreciate it, but she’s gotten away with it because enoughpeople are amused and don’t take it too seriously. Plus, she made a good point in an interview once that everyone seems to give a pass to male country singers who make sexual references in their music, but when a woman does it, it’s “distasteful.“ That garnered her a lot of feminine support (and of course, her male fans probably never had any complaints to begin with, because even if they criticized her morals, they sure didn’t mind watching as they did it).
We locate some artesian bottled water and chug till we have to stop and gasp for air.
Then there are some showgirls handing out mini quiches, so we grab a ton of those and find lounge chairs by the pool where we eat while we listen to Madison talk about her latest movie (upon Daisy’s request).
“So it’s actually a hockey romance,“ she explains, “but there’s a twist:she’sthe hockey player andhe’sthe figure skater.”
“Stop,” Lauren says. “What?”
