“That was your most disciplined Latin performance to date. The footwork? Sharp. The timing? Tight. The transitions? Clean enough to eat off.” She fanned herself lazily with her scorecard. “You understood the assignment, darling. You brought the syllabus.”
She leaned forward, eyes glittering. “But what gagged me wasn’t the mechanics.”
She tapped her chest once.
“It was the moment you stopped playing.”
The room quieted.
“You began in parody. Coach. Rookie. Very cute, very memorable. But when that energy stopped being camp and started being commitment, you didn’t flinch.” Her gaze locked onto Nate like she was about to cast a spell. “You stepped into it.”
She let the silence stretch. “And baby… that’sgrowth.”
The audience roared again.
“I’m giving you an eight,” she announced, lifting her paddle like she was knighting them. “Because I won’t reward blatant seduction with perfection. This is still a competition, not a honeymoon suite, but I willalwaysreward command.”
Indie gasped theatrically. “An eight from Chantreuse is basically a standing ovation delivered in six-inch heels.”
She turned to Muffy, who was clutching her pearls like they were under active threat.
“I just—” she started, blinking rapidly, voice wobbling with emotional whiplash. “I feel like I just watched a man get emotionally claimed on live television and I didnotsign a waiver. The jersey?” she continued, shaking her head in awe. “Iconic. Criminal. Honestly I need one immediately and I don’t even know what sport he plays.” She waved vaguely at Nate while the audience laughed. “The commitment to the bit? Delicious. But that moment when it stoppedbeinga bit?Oh, honey.”
She leaned forward conspiratorially.
“You two made a choice out there,” she went on, pointing between them with exaggerated seriousness, like she was delivering a court ruling. “And it was so clear, like watching someone decide to text back and actually mean it. I’m giving you a nine,” Muffy declared, lifting her paddle with dramatic flourish. “Because if you’re going to fall in love, at least have the decency to stay on rhythm.”
Another wave of applause crashed over the stage, and Muffy sat back looking emotionally spent, as though she’d just personally officiated something.
Stan leaned forward last, elbows on the desk, studying them like he was evaluating tape.
“You know what I liked?” he said finally. “You didn’t overcook it.”
The studio quieted almost immediately.
“You started with a bit,” Stan continued. “Coach and rookie. Cute, fun. But when it got real, you didn’t bail. You didn’trush the ending. You stayed in it.” His gaze flicked to Nate. “And you led clean. That’s the difference between showing off and showing up,” Stan said. “I’m giving you a nine. Because that wasn’t just performance. That was real partnership.”
Nate glanced up at the scoreboard as their total flashed behind them. Twenty-five. The applause felt different now. More earned.
Indie stepped in again, eyes bright. “Well done, guys! I have to ask. Was that just performance, or did we all just witness something slightly more permanent?”
The mic hovered between them.
Nate felt the familiar instinct to deflect, to joke, to protect whatever this was from public consumption. But when he glanced at Holly, she didn’t flinch. There was no hesitation in her eyes now. No test.
“She didn’t wear my jersey by accident,” he said, calm enough that it surprised even him while the crowd lost its collective mind.
Holly’s grip on his hand tightened as they walked off the floor together. Not for the cameras. Not for the audience. Just because she wanted to. And to Nate? That was absolutely everything.
@ballroombrainrot on X:
HOLLY MARTINEZ SAID “JUST ONE HOCKEY PLAYER” AND NATE ERIKSSON SAID “SHE DIDN’T WEAR MY JERSEY BY ACCIDENT” ON LIVE TV?????
I need oxygen. I need therapy. I need season tickets. #takethefloor #hammerheads #trainingSeason
Strictly Scandal Online:
Chemistry Redefined on Take The Floor
