Chapter 41 The Superstar (3)

But the real Emily was just a second-rate actress. How could she possibly know how to play the harp?

She practiced hard all day but made no progress at all.

I strongly suspected that the director’s team had set this up deliberately to target the real Emily.

But who am I?

They call me the six-dimensional warrior of the entertainment industry.

Every skill ever showcased by female leads in various types of films and dramas? I’ve mastered them all without exception.

Prenda soon finished her performance. Being an idol-turned-actress, she performed a sultry dance, even going so far as to strip off her top midway through.

I had only two words when it was over: "Too explicit."

And it was.

The performance was so provocative that it was practically on par with a Crazy Horse cabaret.

I couldn’t help but worry that this show, in its quest for attention and ratings, might eventually go off the rails. Meanwhile, in the live stream’s comment section:

"She’s so hot, I love her!"

"Prenda, if you can dance, keep dancing!"

The audience scores came in quickly. Prenda received an impressive 93.5 points.

As she walked off the stage, she shot me a smug look, her expression dripping with arrogance.

The following performances were no exception—each group showcased something they were already skilled at.

Even the lowest scores were above 90.

The top performance of the night was by Anna and Bensham’s group.

They performed a duet: his voice was deep and magnetic, while hers was bright and musical. It was undeniably captivating.

Their score of 95 secured them the top spot.

Soon, the host called my name.

Dressed in a flowing white dress, I walked gracefully toward the stage, my steps light and confident.

Comments section:

"I gotta say, Emily looks the part in this outfit. I’m kinda into her vibe."

"Are you insane? She’s nothing! How dare she play a role Anna has already performed? Does she even deserve it?"

"I can’t wait to watch her embarrass herself, lol."

"Poor Morton stuck in a group with Emily. Looks like they’re destined for last place."

I don’t even know what happened in the live room.

At this moment, I was fully immersed in the role.

Vast, lofty, lonely. These are the emotions I gleaned from the script in my hurried readthrough.

The sound of the harp flowed from my long, slender fingers, spreading across the room and into the live-stream audience. The air grew still, the silence palpable, as if everyone’s breathing had softened.

It was as though the melody was carrying along their emotions.

When the sound abruptly ceased, it felt like the entire room snapped out of a trance.

Dressed in black, Morton leaped onto the platform, a long sword in hand. He lifted my veil With a single motion, breaking my performance and flow.