Half of the girls on my team were big fans of James, so upon hearing the news, the cries of excitement were endless. I was the only one who reacted normally. Of course I'd heard of him. The media constantly raved about him, and you could find some record of him in almost every newspaper, every day of the week. He was 26, and began his career early as a teenager. He was discovered during a school talent contest. After recording a demo, his career gained momentum, and within a few years, he became a star. I'm not crazy about his music. I liked maybe a few of his songs, but that's about it. I preferred rock music over anything else.

One Monday morning, while in Rome, Italy, I was getting ready to leave the hotel and go explore the city. I was staying in a five-star hotel in the heart of the city. I had to admit James was fast. In only a span of a few days, Alexis had signed the contract with him and the agreement was sealed. Well, I wasn't that surprised that it had happened so quickly. Soon, our dance team was off to Europe for the next ten days where our first concerts would be held. The first concert was scheduled in Rome.

Training started the next day, so we had a chance to relax after a long journey and get used to the change in time zone. I gave myself a day to walk around the city, because the next morning, I knew I had to spend long hours training in rehearsals for the concert. I would have no energy to see the sites after each rehearsal, so I took advantage of my one day. The heat in Italy this time of the year was relentless as I walked around the city.

Suddenly, Kathy breathlessly bursts into the room. We two slept in the same room, even though the apartment was big enough to comfortably hold five people. She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath with difficulty. Earlier, she had told me she was going to talk to Miranda about our next workout, and I figured she probably ran the whole way back from her room to ours.

Her long, light brown hair fell carelessly from her ponytail, and her gray eyes sparkled with excitement and emotion. I was curious about what had gotten her so worked up emotionally.

"James just arrived, and you won't believe who will be the guest star at the first concert!" she panted, fanning herself with her hand.

She closed the door behind her and fell onto her back on the bed. After a moment, she quickly sat up again, as if she couldn't stay in one place longer than a second. She walked around the room, smiling nervously.

I sat on the bed in shorts and a T-shirt. I frowned as I watched her, smearing my sunscreen on my exposed skin. I didn't want a sunburn.

"He's not really staying at this hotel. Please. Only five-stars? Ya, right," I said, rolling my eyes. "He probably rented a villa outside the city or something."

Kathy wasn't amused by my remark.

"Fine, but that's not the most important part. At the concert, Zafir Maluf will be performing with him. You can't tell anyone. It's supposed to be a surprise for the fans." Her eyes glistened and she jumped excitedly, clapping her hands.

"Maybe just the female fans," I said, looking at her amused. "Only girls go to their concerts."

She waved her hand dismissively and continued to pace around the room. I laughed at her, as if she was a toy that someone turned on and she couldn't stop.

"Oh, Zafir!" She swooned, putting a hand on her forehead. Then looked at me in panic. "What if he won't like me? What I'm not his type?"

At that moment it hit me. Kathy had a crush on the former boyy-band member Level. Zafir was born in the UK, and his parents were probably immigrants of Egypt. I wasn't sure. They certainly belonged to the Islamic faith, even though their son and his siblings didn't follow the religion. Recently, he had turned 27 years old. He gained fame a few years ago, when he sang in the band Level, but a year ago he decided take on a solo career.

I couldn't tell her that Zafir probably wouldn't even notice her. Why would a star hang out with an ordinary dancer when he had at his disposal the most beautiful models and actresses of the world?

I decided to distract her from the topic and her worries. I finished rubbing on my sunscreen, and got up to put on my large sunglasses.

"Come tour Rome with me. After tomorrow, we won't have time for anything," I reminded her, hoping that it would sober up her mood.

"But I have to get ready in case I meet him! What am I going to say? I'm going blank. I won't know what to say if I see him," she cried, talking like a hired.

I walked over to her with a sigh and took her hand in mine. Then, I forced her out of the room with me. "Don't think about it. Just be natural. It always works," I advised her, as we walked to the elevator to take it down to the main lobby.

Kathy finally calmed down, and I wondered why. How could she believe me if I was hopeless when it came to relationships? I had been in two relationships, and none lasted more than a year. She was probably more experienced in love than I thought, but my suggestion worked. No matter how bad it was.

                                                                                      ***

The next morning, we started training. We rehearsed in a large conference room, rearranged for our specific needs by the hotel staff. All the walls were mirrors, and the windows were left open. Cool morning breezes flowed in through the window, pleasantly cooling my body. The first song we danced to was "Apologize". Miranda, as usual, first showed us the choreographed piece we needed to learn, and then we repeated after her. She danced along with us several times to consolidate. I had already gotten the dance down, having already committed it to memory. However, I was the exception. The rest of my group still had problems and they stumbled over wrong individual steps, which usually happened during the first few hours of learning new choreography.

We took a short ten minute break before Miranda started the music again. She stood off to the side to watch us, and the real fun began. As soon as someone took a wrong step, or lost the rhythm, or didn't move fast enough, she began yelling at the person.

I really loved our instructor, but during the training she was a real monster.

We danced for an hour, and that's when James Sheridan entered the room. He wore simple dark trousers, like each dancer in our group, and a comfortable white, sleeveless shirt. He was dressed casually, which took me by surprise. At least, too casually to dance. I didn't know what I expect, some very expensive clothes? 

His dark eyes were slightly sunken, and he blinked as the sun fell on him, as if he had a hangover. Undoubtedly, he had spent the night partying rather than resting.

His short brown hair was tousled and slightly damp, as if he'd recently taken a shower.

Immediately, several girls lost their dancing rhythm. One lost her balance and fell down. Miranda turned off the music.

"Okay, I think you already know the choreography, so it's time to dance it with James," she said, smiling at him.

The man walked onto the dance floor.

"Well, we can start," he said, nodding toward us, and looked at Miranda, who didn't seem to know what to do next.

Damn, why would he meet the usual dancers? I stifled a snort and glanced at the instructor. The woman turned on the music.

"Okay, first I'll show you your steps, and then dance with the rest of the group, okay?" Miranda told him.

"Fine. Could you turn the music down just a little? It feels like my head is bursting," he said, rubbing his eyes.

Lena, a short blonde standing next to me, looked at James like a God and quietly squealed, which was fortunately hidden by the ringing music in the background.

"Liv, do you think I can ask him for an autograph?" she whispered.

Miranda lowered the music, and then she showed James dance steps.

I had to admit that he had a knack for it, because he quickly picked up what was going on, and in a moment he learned choreography, even though he was hangover.

I looked at Lena and stifled laughter. It was the first time we had an opportunity to work with an idol and I hadn't seen my friends act like such fangirls. First, Kathy told us about Zafir, and now Lena was swooning over James. They completely lost their common sense. Really strange phenomenon.

"But you don't have a piece of paper or anything to write with," I reminded her, hoping to pour some sense into her head.

But I was wrong.

"It doesn't matter. He can sign an autograph with his mouth on my neck. With a love bite or two. That would be perfect," she sighed dreamily.

The wall was too far away from me, which was fortunate, because I wanted to punch it with my forehead.