the presence of the camera operators, one for her left shoulder, one for his right, and the cameras she couldn’t see but she could feel, infinite flashes from iphones and a blinking red reminder, ‘ smile ! this is a livestream ! ’ were what made this so difficult. not cabrera. bea had decided what to do with him far earlier, it was a matter of implementation. which, fuck. she wished it was only about matteo now. 

weak point number one: the bass was so loud on the dance floor it would overpower a camera microphone easily. her mic pack could be manipulated, so could matteo’s. that was sound gone, especially if they spoke at normal volume, but just in case, weak point number two: if she, if they, were dancing, the camera people had to keep their distance in order to catch every turn and shimmy and smile, and the further away they were, the less chance of someone’s microphone hearing what she was telling him.

bea moved swiftly towards matteo, grabbing him by the wrist and leaning in to say, directly to him, “ let’s dance, cabrera. and we can talk. if you’ve made up your mind not to be an idiot. ” 

if that was on the livestream, so be it.