Free The Devil of DiRisio by Leslie DuBois

this. Damian assured me that the exposure of a music video could get me discovered. Someone could see my face and my talent and perhaps want me in a movie or to join a company or something. He said the opportunities it opened up far outweighed the pain of listening to Veronica’s voice.
    Most of the video had already been filmed earlier in a studio somewhere. They just needed the group dance scenes, which took place at an outdoor basketball court. The princess Veronica stayed in her trailer for most of the morning while everything was meticulously prepared for her emergence. God forbid she might have to stay outside one minute longer than necessary. Her silicone might freeze.
    As Damian rehearsed the sixteen back-up dancers, I noticed that one of the extras looked a lot like Will. There were nine or ten guys hired to play basketball in the background and one of those guys looked totally like my Will. I mean exactly. Even though I only saw him from behind, his mannerisms and the way he leaned on the fence all gave weight to my suspicion.
    But I knew it couldn’t be. When I told him where I would be today … Okay, so I didn’t tell him exactly where I would be. I was too embarrassed to admit I would be in this imbecilic video, so I told him that I had rehearsal. Anyway, when I told him I couldn’t hang out today, he told me that he was going to stay home and play video games. My Will wouldn’t lie to me. My Will wouldn’t …wait a minute. The Will look-a-like had on a Jersey that said El Matador on the back and a number three. Okay, that’s just too much of a coincidence.
    When Damian gave us a break, I went over to the doppelganger and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, I gasped.
    “What are you doing here?” I yelled at Will. Just the tone of my voice implied the answer. He was a liar who was cheating on me with Veronica.
    “Sony! I thought you had rehearsal,” was his pathetic response.
    “This is my rehearsal,” I said pointing to the area where I’d just been dancing. “I thought you were playing video games.”
    “You’re in trouble now, Will,” one of the guys said with a mischievous grin. Will reddened with embarrassment.
    “I was … I mean … I am,” he stuttered. “This is a video and I’m going to be playing basketball which is a game .” He smiled innocently with that adorable smile that usually won me over instantly. It didn’t work. I stared at him in disbelief. How could he try to pass off such a flimsy excuse? Anger eclipsed my speaking capabilities. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I spun around and stormed off. Will followed.
    “Angel, baby, wait,” he said, grabbing my arm.
    It pained me for him to use that nickname that meant so much between us. He called me that the night of our first kiss, when he said I had helped him work through the pain of his parents’ tragic accident before we had even met. When he called me angel, I knew it meant I was his everything. But when he used it then, it just seemed cheap and insincere, like he only used it to get himself out of trouble.
    “Don’t call me angel. I am not your angel. If I was your angel, you wouldn’t lie to me,” I said, trying to jerk my arm away from him.
    “Sonya, I’m sorry. But I didn’t lie. I was playing video games, then Ronnie called and asked me to come down and be in her video I was gonna call you but … ”
    “W-w-wait a minute. Ronnie?” I asked with more attitude than I expected. The group of guys, who for a while found this amusing, finally saw the proverbial steam seep out of my ears and decided they better leave.
    “Yeah, Veronica,”
    “When did Veronica become Ronnie?” I asked. Will stuttered incoherent syllables while still refusing to relinquish my elbow. “Let go of me,” I said as I yanked my arm free and went to pack up my things.
    “Where are you going? Let me take you home,” Will begged as he followed me to the bench that contained my cluttered dance bag