For a split second, Olivia found herself appreciating his positioning and the remarkable fit of his arms around her, but the moment she realised, it was gone. No. She could<em>not</em>start noticing things like that. This would never work. It<em>could</em>never work. He and his ex-partner were horrible, cheating, nasty people. How could she possibly agree to dance with him for hours on end every day? It was unthinkable.<br/><br/>The first strains of the music blared out of the speakers on the walls just as Max murmured in her ear softly enough that Pyotr could not hear. Her head whipped around so fast that small brown tendrils, curling from the heat, were blown loose and framed her furious face.<br/><br/>"That was<em>not</em>what he meant! You pompous, self-important, conceited-"<br/><br/>The rest of her words were drowned out by the music and Pyotr's shouted counts and directions. She had no choice but to follow Max's lead. At least, no choice that would get her anything she wanted.<br/><br/>As they moved, Olivia became aware of how easy it was to follow Max's silent, subtle directions once she tuned into them. He was good. Very good.<br/><br/>Well, he had to be at least somewhat decent. Having his partner sleep with all the judges still would not have been enough to get them where they were without actually having talent as well. But at the same time as she could appreciate his skill, it irked her no end.<br/><br/>How<em>dare</em>he be that good? How dare he move so perfectly that it was like she knew what he was going to do the moment he started shifting? How dare he make it so easy to follow him?<br/><br/>It was most unfair!<br/><br/>