The lights blazed, their bright, white glow searing into Luna's eyes like a thousand tiny needles, making her squint slightly as she stepped onto the stage.
The crowd roared, their voices a thunderous wave of sound that crashed against her eardrums, vibrating through her body and making her heart race even faster.
This wasn't just a stage but a battlefield paved with sequins and shattered dreams.
Cold and hard beneath her feet, the stage floor sent a shiver of anticipation up her legs.
Luna stood center stage, heart pounding a rhythm against her ribs that threatened to drown out the already deafening music.
The heat of the stage lights was like a heavy blanket on her skin, making her forehead break out in a light sweat.
This was it.
The "Star Ascendant" finale.
The winner takes all.
The loser fades into the abyss of forgotten contestants.
But something was off.
It's a beat too late.
The music that was supposed to be a smooth, flowing stream suddenly stuttered, like a broken-down engine, a discordant note that grated on her ears.
A jarring screech from the speakers.
It was a high-pitched, ear-splitting sound that made her wince and covered her ears for a brief moment.
Then, silence.
A gut-wrenching, career-imploding silence.
Luna felt a ripple of unease, like a cold finger tracing down her spine.
She glanced at Brian in the wings; his face was a mask of panic.
His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open slightly, and the look of sheer terror on his face was visible even in the dim backstage lighting.
Classic.
Always reliable in a crisis… not.
Then, a wave of thought crashed over her, a cacophony of fear and malice emanating from the sound booth.
It was like a storm of thoughts battering against her mind, making her temples throb.
"...Vivian said to destroy her...ruin her performance...she can't win!" The technician was sweating bullets, his mind a testament to Vivian's treachery.
The smell of his fear, a sour, acrid odor, wafted through the air towards her.
Vivian, the ice queen, with a smile sharper than a shattered stiletto.
Luna should have seen this coming.
But screw playing the victim.
Screw bowing down.
This was her moment; she wasn't about to let some sabotaged sound system steal it.
In a split second, Luna made a decision.
Forget the carefully choreographed routine.
Forget the pre-planned track.
She grabbed the microphone, its cold metal biting into her palm as she wrapped her fingers around it.
She took a deep breath, the air filling her lungs with a cool, refreshing sensation, and closed her eyes.
Then, she sang.
Not the pop song the world expected, but a raw, soulful melody that poured from the depths of her being.
An impromptu blues riff laced with the fire of her ambition and the sting of betrayal.
It was a story, a confession, a goddamn anthem.
The band, caught off guard but undeniably talented, scrambled to follow her lead.
The sound of their instruments, initially hesitant, quickly became a harmonious symphony that accompanied her voice.
The lights shifted as if responding to the sheer force of her will.
They danced and flickered, casting strange shadows across the stage.
The crowd… the crowd went wild.
Their cheers were a tidal wave, washing over her, fueling her performance.
The warmth of their enthusiasm was like a gentle breeze on her face, encouraging her to keep going.
Luna poured everything into that song, her voice soaring, dipping, weaving a spell that captivated every soul in the auditorium.
From the judging panel, Peterson, the notoriously harsh record producer, rose to his feet, clapping with genuine enthusiasm.
His eyes were wide, a rare smile gracing his lips.
"That," he boomed, his voice amplified by a nearby microphone, "is what a star looks like!"
Take that, Vivian.
Luna ended her impromptu performance with a flourish, a final note that hung like a promise.
The applause thundered, the sound reverberating through the auditorium and making the walls seem to shake.
She'd snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
But the sweet taste of triumph soured in her mouth as Leo, looking impossibly handsome and infuriatingly composed, stepped onto the stage.
The lights seemed to dim slightly, focusing all the attention on him.
The way he moved, with a grace and confidence that was almost palpable, sent a shiver down her spine.
The bastard had that kind of gravitational pull.
"That was… unexpected," he said, his voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent that sent shivers down Luna's spine.
"However, due to unforeseen circumstances, I must announce a temporary suspension of the 'Star Ascendant' program."
A collective gasp rippled through the audience.
The sound of their shock was like a static wave in the air.
What.
The.
Hell?
Leo continued, his gaze fixed on Luna, a strange glint in his eyes.
"Luna's… unique abilities… are creating an imbalance within the team dynamic. We need time to re-evaluate."
Luna's gut twisted.
This wasn't about "team dynamic." This was about her.
About how she'd thrown a wrench in his carefully laid plans.
She focused her mind, reaching out to Leo to decipher his true intentions.
To do so, she closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling a drain of energy from her body as she delved into his thoughts.
"...Now she is powerful enough...can start the next phase of the experiment..."
Experiment?
What freaking experiment?
Luna's mind raced.
She felt a surge of hot and potent anger like a fire burning in her chest.
He wasn't just trying to control her; he was using her.
Backstage was a chaotic mess of frantic whispers and discarded costumes.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat, hairspray, and the faint scent of perfume.
Luna navigated the throng, trying to make sense of the madness.
The bodies brushing against her were warm and clammy, the contact making her skin crawl.
Then, a shy voice cut through the noise.
"Luna?"
It was Amy, a girl she barely knew, one of Vivian's most ardent fans.
Amy clutched a small, unlabeled bottle in her hand.
The glass of the bottle was cold and smooth against her fingertips.
"I… I need to give you this."
"What is it?" Luna asked, wary.
Amy hesitated, her eyes darting around nervously.
The fear on her face was visible in how her eyes widened, and her lips trembled.
"Vivian's assistant gave it to me. Said it would… enhance your abilities. Make you even better."
Enhance her abilities?
Right.
Luna reached out, mind brushing against Amy's, searching for the truth.
To do this, she placed a hand gently on Amy's arm, feeling the warmth of her skin, and concentrated, once again feeling the energy drain from her.
"...She needs help, right?"
The girl was sincere.
Naive, maybe, but genuinely trying to help.
Luna took the bottle, and a knot formed in her stomach.
The bottle felt heavy in her hand like it carried the weight of a hidden danger.
This reeked of a trap.
She walked straight to Leo, who was holding court with a gaggle of nervous producers.
The air around him seemed to crackle with an unseen energy.
She shoved the bottle into his hand.
"Since you seem to have doubts about my… abilities," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "why don't we put them to the test? A little experiment, if you will."
Leo's eyes narrowed.
He took the bottle, examining it with a detached air.
The coldness of his touch as he took the bottle from her starkly contrasted with the heat of her anger.
"Interesting," he murmured.
"Where did you get this?"
Before Luna could answer, a lab technician rushed in, his face pale with alarm.
"Mr. Sterling! The results are in! This substance… it contains a potent neuro-inhibitor!"
Brian gasped, his carefully constructed facade crumbling.
"Vivian! That bitch! I knew she was trouble!"
Leo merely smiled, a cold, predatory curve of his lips.
"Clever girl," he said, his gaze locking with Luna's.
"But you underestimate me. You think you're so perceptive, Luna? You think you know everything? You're wrong. That little concoction wasn't meant for the stage. It was in your water bottle all along."
Luna felt the words hit her like a physical blow.
Her mind spun, trying to process his confession.
She reached out, trying to grasp his thoughts and understand his motives.
Once again, she closed her eyes and focused, feeling the intense drain on her energy as she probed his mind.
"...Her abilities are spiraling out of control...needs to be stabilized..."
The revelation slammed into her.
He wasn't trying to destroy her career.
He was trying to control her.
To suppress her power.
To keep her from becoming… what, exactly?
Before Luna could formulate a response, the auditorium plunged into darkness.
The sudden absence of light was like a physical force pressing down on her.
A collective scream ripped through the air.
The sound was ear-piercing, a wave of panic that washed over her.
On stage, the massive screens flickered, died, and nothing.
Utter blackness.
A single thought echoed in Luna's mind, cold and sharp as shattered glass: What the hell is going on?
The air backstage at the Star Path finals was thick enough to chew – a weird cocktail of cheap hairspray, expensive perfume, and pure, unadulterated panic.
The smell was cloying, making it hard for Luna to breathe deeply.
Luna leaned against a peeling wall, the rough texture of the wall scraping against her back.
She tried to tune out the frantic buzz of thoughts ricocheting around her like stray bullets.
Did I iron my costume?
I hope the mic works.
Please don't let me trip.
Amateur hour anxieties, mostly.
But beneath that, the sharper, colder thoughts of rivals sizing each other up.
Focus, Luna, focus.
Her own heart was doing a drum solo against her ribs.
The pounding was so intense that she could feel it in her throat.
The final round.
Months of grinding, dodging sabotage, and playing the game had led here.
She wasn't just the no-name girl anymore.
People were watching.
Whispering.
Expecting.
Vivian strutted past, nose in the air, leaving a 'She doesn't deserve this' trail in her wake.
Her high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor was like a taunt.
Luna mentally rolled her eyes.
It's the same old song, Viv.
Get some new material.
Then, her cue.
The roar of the crowd hit her first, a physical wave.
It was so loud that it made her body vibrate.
Then, the blinding lights.
They were so bright that she had to shield her eyes momentarily.
She walked to center stage, the floor feeling unnervingly solid beneath her heels after the shaky backstage chaos.
The coolness of the floor seeped through the thin soles of her shoes.
She found her mark, breathed, and waited for the music.
And then, she let go.
It wasn't just singing; it was weaving a story with sound, emotion, and… a little inside information.
Her voice, clear and strong, filled the auditorium.
The sound reverberated off the walls, creating a rich, full-bodied tone.
She felt the initial wave of critical assessment from the judges' table. She was technically proficient, but does she have star quality?
Particularly from the notoriously grumpy one, Mr.Harrison.
Okay, game on.
She saw a flicker of boredom in his mind during the bridge, thought of Just another ballad.
Right.
Luna shifted gears subtly.
On the highest note, she let a tiny, almost imperceptible crack creep into her voice, a flash of raw vulnerability that wasn't rehearsed.
The effort of singing with that crack made her throat burn slightly.
She poured the collective longing and hope from the audience – especially from a specific section where she knew Amy was sitting, practically vibrating with excitement ('OMG LUNA, YOU'RE AMAZING!') – into that single, fragile moment.
She felt the shift in Harrison's mind like a switch flipping.
The boredom dissolved, replaced by surprise, then grudging respect.
Huh.
Unexpected depth.
Yes!
Gotcha.
She rode the wave of the song, pulling threads of emotion from the crowd, sensing their connection, tears, and memories sparked by the melody.
It was exhilarating, like conducting an orchestra of feelings.
Vivian's bitter envy ('How is she doing that? It should be me!）
It was a dissonant note, but Luna pushed it aside and drowned it out with the overwhelming chorus of adoration building around her.
The final note hung in the air, shimmering.
Silence.
A heartbeat.
Then, pandemonium.
The applause was deafening, a tidal wave washing over her.
The force of the applause was so strong that it made her hair flutter.
People were on their feet.
Flashing lights.
Shouting.
It was more than she'd ever dreamed.
Backstage, she could almost hear Brian's mental explosion – 'SHE NAILED IT!
UNBELIEVABLE! WE ARE SO BACK!
Amy's thoughts were just pure, incoherent, screaming joy.
The host came back on stage, beaming.
The judges conferred.
The tension ratcheted up again, but this time, it felt different.
Hopeful.
"And the winner of this year's Star Path Initiative... the artist who truly captured our hearts and showed us the future of stardom... is..." The pause stretched, agonizing.
"...LUNA!"
For a second, Luna didn't react.
The name echoed strangely.
Then Brian practically tackled her in a hug from the wings, shouting something incoherent.
The warmth of his embrace and the pressure of his arms around her were a welcome contrast to the chaos around her.
The confetti cannons fired, showering the stage in glittering rain.
The soft and light confetti tickled her skin as it landed on her.
It was real.
She'd done it.
She'd won Against all odds, the whispers, and the sabotage.
Amidst the chaos, the flashing cameras, the roar, her eyes scanned the VIP box.
And found him.
Leo.
He wasn't clapping.
He stood perfectly still, a stark silhouette against the glittering backdrop.
His usual cool, detached mask was firmly in place, but his eyes… burned.
Intensely focused.
Right on her.
And in that instant, something snapped.
It wasn't like before, the gentle stream of thoughts she could navigate.
This was a dam breaking.
A thousand voices, a million fragments of thought and emotion, crashed into her mind simultaneously.
It was like a storm of thoughts battering against her brain, causing a sharp pain.
Amy's joy, Brian's relief, Vivian's rage, the judges' critiques, the audience's excitement, the crew's boredom, the security guard's thoughts about his dinner – all of it, amplified, distorted, screeching.
Winner...
Price...
control...
too much...
mine...
Listen...
NO...
help...
Whose thoughts were they?
Hers?
His?
Everyone's?
It was impossible to tell.
The noise was a physical pain, a sharp spike driving into her skull.
The cheering crowd sounded muffled, distant like she was plunging underwater.
The bright lights flared, searing spots into her vision.
"Luna? Hey, you okay?" Brian's voice was laced with sudden worry, his hand tight on her arm.
The pressure of his hand on her arm was almost painful.
His frantic thoughts – Is she fainting?
Too much pressure?
What's happening?
Added to the unbearable cacophony.
She stumbled, pressing her palms against her temples, trying to block out the mental onslaught.
The glittering confetti suddenly felt like shards of glass against her skin.
She gasped for breath, the world tilting crazily.
Her gaze shot back to the VIP box, searching for Leo for the source of this sudden, terrifying overload.
He was gone.
Vanished back into the shadows.
The trophy felt heavy and cold in her suddenly numb hands.
The cheers sounded hollow.
The victory, so dazzling moments ago, was instantly tarnished, overshadowed by a chilling, paralyzing fear.
Her gift, her secret weapon, the key to her ascent – had it become her most significant liability?
And was Leo somehow responsible?
Winning was supposed to be the end of the fight.
Luna had a terrifying feeling that it was just the beginning of a new war.
And this time, the enemy might be inside her head.