Fans of *Dancing with the Stars* are upset after one of the dancers performed a mediocre cha cha while wearing a sparkly bracelet on her right ankle. What seemed like a simple accessory actually had a deeper meaning.
Despite the backlash, the dancer stood her ground, telling the quiet audience, “I’ve reinvented myself many times” and “this time I’m going to be a ballroom dancer.”
Keep reading to find out who this controversial performer is on the popular TV show!
Ezra Sosa faced a big challenge in season 33 of *Dancing with the Stars*, his first season as a professional dancer.
His partner claimed to have dance experience, but Ezra had his doubts. When asked about her background, he said, “She did ballet and modern,” then laughed and added, “I don’t think she did…”
Like many others, Sosa doesn’t fully trust what his partner says.
His partner, known as a “fake heiress,” was convicted of grand larceny after pretending to be a wealthy German heiress. She scammed many socialites and even some banks and hotels while living in New York.
Sosa’s partner is Anna Sorokin, who is also known as Anna Delvey. She was born in Russia and became famous after her crimes inspired the Netflix show *Inventing Anna*.
Delvey gained attention for defrauding people, banks, and hotels. The Netflix series features her story, with actress Julia Garner playing her role.
She was convicted of grand larceny multiple times in 2019 and was released from prison in 2021 for good behavior. However, after breaking the rules of her Visa, she was taken into custody by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and placed under home confinement.
Now considered a flight risk, she wears an ankle monitor while she fights to stay in the U.S. and avoid being deported back to Germany, where she is a citizen.
On September 17, Anna caused a lot of controversy with her appearance on the first episode of the new season of *Dancing with the Stars*.
After Delvey was introduced as a “fashionista and entrepreneur,” she and Sosa took to the dance floor to perform a cha-cha to Sabrina Carpenter’s song “Espresso.”
They wore colorful outfits in shades of blue, purple, pink, and yellow. Delvey added a sparkly ankle monitor to her look.
During their performance, Delvey explained her unusual accessory, saying, “I overstayed my visa because I was in jail, so it’s kind of hard to leave.” She laughed and added, “I did serve my time… I’ve reinvented myself many times, and this time I’m going to be a ballroom dancer.”
The judges praised Anna Delvey’s efforts and expressed their surprise at her performance.
Derek Hough said, “I’m kind of lost for words. You actually have the ability to be a really beautiful dancer. Truly, you really do… I was surprised.”
Bruno Tonioli added a more playful touch, saying, “Reinventing Anna … yet again! And it could be working!”
Carrie Ann Inaba addressed the unusual silence in the studio, saying, “When you came out on the dance floor, there was a shift in the energy in this room. I imagine this is scary for you, and I’m not for or against anything you’ve done. But this is about your dancing here.”
However, fans were less kind. Many criticized her “robotic” moves and “miserable face,” while others were upset about the ankle monitor.
“Ankle monitors are not iconic. She should not be on this show,” wrote one user on DWTS’s Instagram page. Another added, “Felons should not be given any sort of spotlight.”
One commenter took issue with her title, saying, “Ooof. ‘Fashionista and entrepreneur?’ No… criminal.” On the DWTS Facebook page, another fan expressed, “Let’s glamorize an ankle bracelet. I’m disgusted.”
Wealthy Neighbor’s Son Shattered My Window with a Ball — They Declined to Compensate, but Fate Struck from an Unexpected Source
I marched outside, the offending baseball clutched in my hand like a grenade. Baron Bigshot was in his driveway, polishing his luxury car with the care most people reserve for newborns.
“Hey!” I shouted, storming up to him. “Your son’s baseball just came through my window. It nearly hit my daughter!”
He barely glanced up. “Oh? And you’re sure it was my son’s ball?”
I thrust the blueberry pie-lathered ball in his face. “Unless baseballs are falling from the sky now, yes, I’m pretty sure.”
He sighed like I was some peasant interrupting his important car-polishing duties. “Look, Ms…”
“Angela. We’ve been neighbors for three years.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Right, right. Angela. Do you have any proof it was my Billy’s ball?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Proof? There’s pie filling on it!”
“Ah,” he nodded sagely, “so you admit you tampered with the evidence.”
I felt my eye start to twitch. “Listen here, Baron Big—”
“I beg your pardon?”
I took a deep breath. “Mr. Worthington. Your son broke my window. He could have seriously hurt my daughter. The least you could do is pay for the repairs.”
He chuckled, actually chuckled! “My dear, do you know how much that would cost?”
“Probably less than one of your car’s tires,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate your tone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a birthday party to prepare for. Important guests are coming, you understand. Out of my property!”
He said that. Yep! No apology. No NOTHIN’.
As he turned away, something in me snapped. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I understand that you care more about your fancy party than the safety of your neighbors!”
He spun around, his face red. “Now see here—”
But I was on a roll. “No, you see here! Your son has been terrorizing this neighborhood for months. We’ve all been too polite to say anything, but enough is enough. You need to take responsibility!”
“I suggest you leave now before I call the police for trespassing.”
Defeated and furious, I trudged back home, the sound of his expensive sprinkler system mocking me with every step.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of cleaning up glass and comforting a still-shaken Penny.
As evening fell, the sounds of Baron Bigshot’s party drifted over. Laughter, clinking glasses, and what I was pretty sure was a live band.
I was just about to close the curtains (what was left of them anyway) when I saw something odd. A group of young men in masks, all wearing football jerseys, was marching up Baron Bigshot’s perfectly manicured lawn.
“What in the world?” I murmured, pressing my nose against the wooden window sill divider.
Suddenly, they all raised their arms, each holding a football. And then, in perfect synchronization, they let loose.
Footballs rained down on Baron Bigshot’s party like a sports equipment hailstorm. I watched, mouth agape, as chaos erupted.
Guests screamed and ducked, champagne flutes shattered, and Baron Bigshot himself stood in the middle of it all, looking like a man who’d just seen his worst nightmare come to life.
As quickly as it started, it was over. The football players high-fived each other and jogged away, leaving destruction in their wake.
I was still trying to process what I’d seen when there was a knock at my door. It was Mrs. Stewart, grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“Did you see that?” she asked, barely containing her glee.
I nodded, still stunned. “What… how…”
She winked. “Let’s just say my nephew’s football team owed me a favor. Thought our dear neighbor could use a taste of his own medicine.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face. “Mrs. Stewart, you’re a genius!”
She patted my arm. “Sometimes, dear, karma needs a little push.”
The next morning, I was enjoying my coffee when there was a furious pounding at my door. I opened it to find Baron Bigshot, looking decidedly less baronial in his rumpled pajamas.
“YOU!” he sputtered, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You did this!”
I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the moment. “Did what?”
“Don’t play dumb! The football attack! It ruined everything!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And do you have any proof it was me?”
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, clearly recognizing his own words being thrown back at him.
I leaned against the doorframe, feeling surprisingly calm. “You know, Mr. Worthington, sometimes life has a funny way of teaching us lessons. Maybe this is yours.”
His face turned an impressive shade of purple. “This isn’t over!”
As he stormed off, I called after him, “Oh, and Mr. Worthington? You might want to consider investing in some wooden planks for your windows. I hear they’re all the rage these days.”
I closed the door, grinning to myself. Penny looked up from her coloring book, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“Mommy, why was that man yelling?”
I scooped her up, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Oh, sweetie. He just learned a very important lesson about being a good neighbor.”
Well, folks, there you have it. Karma works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? Sometimes it’s swift, sometimes it takes its sweet time, and sometimes it needs a little nudge from a well-meaning neighbor with connections to a high school football team!
So, tell me, have you ever had a neighbor from hell? A Baron Bigshot of your own? Drop your stories in the comments. After all, misery loves company, and nothing brings people together quite like tales of nightmare neighbors!
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