“Dammit!” Svetlana hisses, staring down at the number ‘three’ written on her slip of paper. “I definitely don’t want to go last. What did you get, Xiu-Mei?”
She grabs the little sheet of paper out of Xiu-Mei’s hand, and snorts.
“So I guess you got first place, huh Valerie?” She says, her eyes narrowing. “Swap spots with me.”
It’s a command, not a request.
Even though I’m tempted to buy myself more time and delay the inevitable, this feels like a trap. My heart stopped beating for a moment back there when I saw I was to perform first, but now that Svetlana - strategic, cunning Svetlana - is angling for the first spot, I clearly need to reconsider my options.
My mind racing, I think through the implications of the order in which we’ll be “performing.” Oliver, being the decent non-rapey
