"Alright, that's great," Mr. Edgar shouts.

Gabrielle looks down, and her stomach drops. She's dangling high above the floor on a thin rope. Without the choreography to distract her, she realizes just how far from the floor she is. She watches the crew members rush back and forth as they adjust the camera equipment and try not to think about what would happen if she fell.

I've done scarier things before, she thinks. I can handle this. She takes a deep breath and then another and watches the people bustle around the set. Mr. Edgar and a man she doesn't seem to recognize are in deep conversation. They keep pointing up at her. I wonder what they're saying, she wonders.

The spotlights are blazing with heat, and she feels a drop of sweat creep down her back. The heavy gown is almost suffocating in the heat. But I've worn more uncomfortable costumes at the club, she thinks. At least this covers my ass. She looks at the cameraman and director, hoping they'll let her come down, but they seem to have forgotten about her.

They've turned their backs to the set and are talking with a couple standing in the shadows behind them. Gabrielle squints and recognizes Janetta and Bryan. It's hard to tell with the glare of the lights, but it looks like Janetta is scowling.

"Okay, we're going to bring you down, Gabrielle," Mr. Edgar shouts. "I want to show you another action sequence."

The ropes began to creak, and Gabrielle finds herself standing on the hard wooden floor. Mr. Edgar, Bryan, and Janetta rush over, and suddenly Gabrielle wishes she was back in the air. Janetta's expression is even angrier up close—her eyes flash, and her lip curls up in a sneer.

"You must be happy," Janetta hisses. "Mr. Edgar never likes anyone's work—you have no idea how lucky you are."

Gabrielle shrugs and says, "I guess I'm just a hard worker."

"You, a hard worker?" Janetta asks with a laugh. "Tell that to our dance master. Remember him—Monsieur Jacques? Mom and Dad got us dance lessons, but you always slept in the corner. You said you were too sick, but Monsieur Jacques always said you were just too lazy."

"Oh, don't listen to her," Bryan says with a wink. "You looked like royalty up there. And Monsieur Jacques was such a bore."

Gabrielle blushes and smiles as Mr. Edgar pulls her back to the training mat. He snaps his fingers and demonstrates a complicated action sequence. He moves so fast she feels dizzy.

"Since you did the other sequence so well, I thought we could make it a little flashier," he says. "Show me!"

She takes a deep breath and does her best to copy his moves, throwing her body through the air and onto the mat. Together they run through the sequence again and again. When she does something wrong, he clicks his tongue like an angry mother, but he doesn't hit her. At the club, Abbie whips her legs every time she makes a mistake, but Mr. Edgar is surprisingly gentle and patient compared to the dance teacher.

"You really have a gift," Mr. Edgar says. "You're learning this choreography like a natural."

Gabrielle smiles and lets him strap her back into the harness. It's a dramatic fight with half a dozen other stunt doubles. The other doubles, all strong men with lean muscles, fly through the air and attack her. She dodges and flips to the side and slashes at them with her plastic sword.

Like the film, she starts to imagine they're the men from the club. Their reaching hands and fierce eyes make her blood boil, and she throws herself at them with extra force. Each time she swings the plastic blade, she imagines metal and blood.

Janetta grits her teeth and watches as Gabrielle swoops through the air. She shoots a sideways glance at Bryan and sees that he's completely entranced: his eyes have gone wide, and his mouth has fallen open. He looks like he's seeing Gabrielle for the first time.

Janetta clenches her hands into fists and curses under her breath. I should never have tried to humiliate Gabrielle like this, she thinks. But how was I supposed to know that she'd actually be good at it?

"She looks like an avenging goddess," Bryan says. "Even her expressions are perfect—she could be a star."

"Pshh, I can do that too," Janetta snaps.

"Oh come on," Bryan says with a laugh. "We've done a few movies together now, but I've never seen you pull off a scene like that. You're much better at the softer, dramatic scenes."

"Well, that's what matters," Janetta says. "Gabrielle isn't really acting—she's just following instructions. Anyone can do that."

"If it's so easy, why aren't you doing it?" Bryan asks.

Janetta turns around, ready to march off the set, but she stops when she hears applause. At first, it's only Mr. Edgar, but then the crew members and extras join in; a few even whistle and cheer, Gabrielle smiles and blushes as the crew lowers her back down to the floor.

She looks like she's floating, Janetta thinks bitterly. How could she have learned so much in only a few weeks at the club?

Gabrielle rushes over, flushed, and glowing with exertion. Her long dark hair looks windblown and dramatic, and her chest heaves as she pants. Up close, the green velvet looks even more stunning against her pale skin.

"Wow, you were amazing," Bryan says.

Janetta catches him staring at Gabrielle's chest and pinches his arm. He smirks but looks away. I'll have to ask the costume designer to lower the neckline on my gown, she thinks. I can't let this flat-chested little girl upstage me.

Gabrielle sees Janetta's fierce glare first. For a moment, the old instinct to run away and hide takes over, but she squares her shoulders and marches toward her sister.

"I hope I didn't let you down, Janetta," she calls out.

"Of course not," Janetta says, sounding strangled. "Though I have to admit, I'm surprised you were such a success."

"You could have a career in acting," Bryan says. "Do you want to be an actress? I'd be happy to help you?"

Gabrielle flushes with pleasure. She wants to talk to Bryan some more, but Mr. Edgar appears next to her and starts tugging on her arm. Reluctantly, she allows him to drag her over to a small TV to review the footage they've just shot.

"Take a look at this," he says. "You look absolutely fantastic—so natural. It's going to be the best scene in the film!"

"I want to see," Janetta shouts, rushing over.

The cameraman rewinds the clip, and Gabrielle watches her sister watch the scene. With every second, Janetta's scowl gets deeper. By the time the clip ends, she looks ready to go to war.

"It's too bad Gabby's only a stuntwoman," Janetta says with a sniff. "It's okay for her to do the choreography, but the more subtle skills are clearly beyond her. Come, Gabrielle, watch a real actress shoot—maybe you'll learn something."

Gabrielle rolls her eyes and stands next to the cameraman. The crew adjusts the lighting, and Janetta takes her place on the cobblestone street outside the palace. She starts the scene, but the anger is still visible on her face. Her voice sounds loud and false, and her movements are exaggerated.

"Cut," Mr. Edgar screams. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Janetta?"

"I'm doing the scene exactly how we discussed it," Janetta says.

"No, you're stiff as a board," Mr. Edgar shouts. "Take a deep breath, and we'll run it again."

Gabrielle sees something like fear flicker across her sister's face, and then Janetta closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She starts the scene again, but she's somehow even worse than before. Her voice sounds nasal and high, and her face looks strangely blank.

"Cut," Mr. Edgar screams. "Take five and get a grip, Janetta. We can't film you if you're going to act like this."

Gabrielle bites her lip and wishes she could leave the set. Janetta looks like she's about to fly into a fit, and Gabrielle doesn't want to be around to see it happen. From the dark corners of the soundstage, she can hear the crew members whisper and giggle.

"How embarrassing," one says. "The stunt double is better than the actual actress."

Janetta looks down—she's clearly heard the comment. For a minute, Gabrielle wonders if her sister is going to cry, but when Janetta lifts her head, her face is ferocious and cold. She marches over and clears her throat as if she's about to make an important announcement.

"Well, I'm really surprised, Gabby," Janetta says. "I knew the Top Girls Club was famous for its dancers, but I had no idea they could train someone so quickly. What's the secret? I'm dying to know."

The whispering crew members go silent, and then laughter fills the room. Someone reaches out and plucks at Gabrielle's ass through her skirt, and she jumps with surprise. She turns around to glare at the offender, but the man just winks at her.

"I can't believe she's a whore," one man shouts.

"Well, she's certainly the prettiest prostitute I've ever seen," another call.

"Hey girly, how much do you charge?" another scream.

Gabrielle's eyes fill with hot tears, and she tries to wipe them away before Janetta can see. Someone grabs her wrist, and she flails her arm, trying to get the handoff her.

"Hey, cut it out," Bryan whispers. "I just want to talk to you in private."

She lets him lead her away from the jeering crew members into a dark corner of the set. Suddenly, the cobblestone streets and palace look fake and hollow—the magic is gone. A sob escapes her lips, and she presses her palm over her mouth.

"Are you seriously working at the Top Girls Club?" Bryan asks, his face hard and angry.

She looks down at the ground and says, "I am."

"What the fuck, Gabby?" Bryan asks. "Why would you do that? I never thought of that type of girl. Are you?"

Gabrielle shrugs miserably. She wants to tell Bryan that none of it was her choice, but she knows it won't do her any good. She's stuck at the club until she pays off her father's debt to Jackson.

"Are you that desperate for money?" Bryan asks. "Cause if you're having problems with money, I can help you. Just tell me how much you need."

"It's a lot of money, Bryan," she whispers.

"I don't care," he says. "Just tell me

"Please let me go," she whispers.

He grabs her wrist even tighter and says, "Tell me how much you need."

"Let me go," she says again. "People are going to see us."

"Listen to the lady and let her go," a deep voice shouts.