It was a new day and we were in a different studio. I was feeling really optimistic about the dance because as Oli said, the way that section I showed them was going, I was bound to get tens.

It was later that day when things were getting much better.

I made it through her legs. So far so good.

We did the series of underarm turns. I was really doing well with this.

And then I heard a big rip! What the hell was that?! I followed Dianne in my vision and saw her clutching the back of her head in obvious pain then right by my feet I saw a clump of hair. Those can't be extensions. That noise meant Dianne's actual hair was ripped out. How?! I didn't think it was my fault, but I must have caught under my shoe. I internally laughed to myself when I picked up Dianne's real hair. I let it fall to the floor then clapped thinking, Chop, chop. You're the professional here.

We finished off the rest of the dance and instead of me being lifted up, we held up Dianne's massive clump of hair. I looked at her and I could see she was still in pain. Then I looked at the hair and burst into tears laughing. I managed to calm down a bit but looking at her set me off again.

"I'm so sorry," I said, still laughing.

"No you're not." She was rubbing her head.

"You're right. I'm really not." I wiped my eyes with my fingers. "Phew... You know, you're just making it worse by rubbing your head." I pulled her in for a hug and kissed her head. "Bloody hell! You've got a bloody bald patch! At this rate you'll have no hair left at all." I started laughing again. Stop, Joe, stop. "Well, you can take it. Keep on going!"

"Ow."

"You're just milking it now." Joe, shut up. "You are the professional, aren't you?" You're making it worse, Joe. "'Pain is my friend,' is your motto, isn't it? Or were you lying?"

"Ouch, talk about adding insult to injury."

"I know!" I shook my head at myself. "Tell me to shut up, please." Instead of telling me, she kissed me on the lips to actually shut me up.