Layla's stress levels were through the roof, not to mention Michael's lack of sleep even while he was in her body. He was worried, what was going to happen at the next show? Neither of them had a clue.  Layla took the time to listen to the album all the way through. She had to admit, even if this wasn't her ideal music to listen to, it was pretty good. A few days passed, she believed she had some lyrics down, but she had a major problem still standing in front of her.

"What do you do when you dance?" Michael asked her.

They were in his rehearsal studio.

"Um... I don't," She confessed. 

It was true, when Sydney had brought her out to clubs, she never got her butt out of the seat for anyone. She hated to go out.

"It's like my worst nightmare... " he mumbled. 

"Hey! This can't be too bad! What do you do? Jump around? Point at the audience?" she crossed her arms. 

"You really don't know a thing, do you?" he rubbed his face. 

He pressed a button and music started to blare out of the speakers. She then witnessed herself, spinning, moving, sliding across the floor. The whole performance from start to finish. Her mind was blank, how was her own body capable of doing that? Michael dropped to his knees and panted hard. 

"Girl do you ever work out?!" he sighed, wiping sweat off his forehead. 

"Do you consider from the fridge to the couch as burning calories?" she chuckled. 

He rolled his eyes and stood. 

"Here, I'll teach you the spin, then the moonwalk," he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. 

He demonstrated the spin a couple times. The position of his feet, the position of the arms, how much force to use. Layla's mind was blank. This continued on for the rest of the day, she became even more confused on the moonwalk. Michael scolded her countless times, she began to have a headache.

He sighed, "I'll figure something out. If I can't, please don't let my career be flushed down the drain."

He left, leaving her alone. She sat in front if the mirror that covered the entire wall. She stared into her reflection. Michael's body was fit,  obviously he was made for this job. She knew she had to pull something out of somewhere. She just had to think about how. It was 2 in the morning, she knew she wouldn't sleep anyways, so she continued to practice. The words along with the choreography. The day of the show came around. A last rehearsal was happening. Michael had not really talked to her, so she assumed he didn't come up with anything. She had one option. She couldn't lip sync, she didn't want to. She knew half the songs on the set list, but the rest were hopeless. The dance was impossible for her to learn within a few days. She would have to improvise. She had something in her pocket, her plan may save his career, or completely ruin the show. She would have to take that risk.

"Layla, can I see you backstage?" she called into the mic, Michael stood and went behind the curtain, Sydney clapped in support of her best friend.

Layla grabbed his arm and pulled him into her dressing room. She pulled out an ear piece with a mini mic attached to it.

"What's this?" he inquired.

"A life saver," she smirked. 

"Huh?"