Chapter 84
I laughed at my own paranoia.
Leopold was out shopping with Sophia and Amelia right now. Why would he come looking for me?
The next day.
The International Ballet Competition finals officially began.
Inside the grand theater, lights blazed like a flowing galaxy, spilling across every corner of the stage.
The judging panel had been upgraded from three judges in the semifinals to ten.
Seven of them were representatives from top-tier dance companies.
I didn't recognize most of them.
But they all seemed to know Ethan. Each one shook his hand as they took their seats.
When the last judge shook hands with Ethan, I couldn't hear what was said, but the man deliberately glanced my way.
I was confused, but Ethan signaled me not to worry.
"...Alright, our first contestant is taking the stage. Let's give them a warm welcome!"
Thunderous applause filled the venue.
The finals had twenty contestants total.
I'd drawn number nine—relatively early in the lineup. Better positioning than the semifinals, but also more pressure.
Soon, the first ballet dancer took the stage.
Clearly, everyone was taking this seriously. The difficulty level had jumped significantly from the semifinals.
This round's voting was limited to the ten judges.
Each could award up to ten points. Final scores were calculated by averaging all ten judges' scores, and results were announced immediately.
That meant every contestant would be under immense psychological pressure.
"Our first contestant has finished. Judges, please submit your scores."
The ten judges huddled together, apparently deliberating.
I strained to listen. Each judge obviously had different criteria.
I could learn from how they scored the first contestant.
That way, I could adjust my routine on the fly.
"Judge one: eight points."
"Judge two: nine points."
"..."
"Judge ten: eight points."
After the host read out each judge's score, they announced the first contestant's total.
"Contestant one's final score: eight-point-six."
The audience applauded.
But my nerves—and those of the other contestants—went taut as piano wire.
Based on previous competitions, the first contestant usually scored relatively high.
At least eight-point-eight.
But this fell short by quite a bit.
These top company representatives clearly had sharp eyes and brutal standards.
When the first contestant returned to her seat, her eyes and nose were bright red. She'd obviously been crying.
That only ramped up everyone else's anxiety.
Soon, the second contestant finished with a score of eight-point-six.
The waiting area fell dead silent.
Everyone's nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
When the third contestant took the stage and earned a high score of nine, the room finally exhaled.
"Finally, someone got a nine! If we'd gotten another eight-five or eight-six, I'd be too scared to even go on stage."
"Right? I'm number seven. I'm barely breathing."
"You're up soon. Stretch out—don't let your body freeze up."
Quiet murmurs rippled through the group.
From these scores, I'd started to detect some patterns.
I had a plan forming.
Suddenly, a loud crash.
Everyone's attention snapped to the stage.
"Ah! She fell!"
"Oh my God, how did that happen?"
"That's the mistake I'm terrified of!"
"So... does her score still count?"
Hearing the chatter, I looked toward the stage too.
After falling, the girl's composure had completely shattered.
Even though she stood back up and pushed through to finish, her score wouldn't be high.
"Unfortunately, this contestant made an error. Her final score is seven points. But her determination to finish deserves recognition!"
More enthusiastic applause filled the theater.
But the contestant couldn't hold it together. She broke down crying onstage.
This mistake didn't just affect her—it affected everyone performing after her.
If they couldn't adjust their mindset quickly, there could be a chain reaction of errors.
Sure enough, the next two contestants both made varying degrees of mistakes.
"What's going on? Three contestants in a row with errors. Are they all that fragile?"
"The difficulty level isn't even as high as contestant two's. How are they still messing up?"
"This year's finalists are terrible. Each one worse than the last. How did the judges even select these people?"
"I guess it's normal. Look at modeling competitions or other talent shows—don't they get worse every year, too?"
"But didn't they hype this year's contestants as better than ever? This is the level we get? What a waste of my ticket money!"
The consecutive mistakes had the audience grumbling.
The already anxious remaining contestants, hearing these complaints, felt the pressure multiply.
Some with shakier nerves were already dreading the stage before they'd even stepped on it.
A heavy atmosphere blanketed the entire venue.
As contestant seven took the stage, I started warming up, preparing to head backstage early.
The moment I stood, I accidentally locked eyes with Leopold, who'd glanced back.
Just for a second. Then his expression went cold, and he looked away.
I steadied my uneven heartbeat and slowly made my way backstage.
Contestant eight was just going on.
I noticed her legs shaking as she walked onstage. I couldn't help worrying for her.
But once she got up there, she miraculously pulled it together.
Not only did she complete all the high-difficulty moves, but she even nailed an ultra-difficult final pose.
"This contestant scores nine-point-three! Congratulations—that's our highest score so far!"
The host's announcement made me feel the pressure.
"Next up, contestant number nine. She'll be performing 'Breaking the Cocoon.' She's also our semifinal champion. Let's see if she'll surprise us again!"
The music started light and playful, expressing the sweetness of early love.
I wore a pristine white dress, leaping and twirling through each warm pool of light.
But soon, I discovered the love was a lie. His goal was to destroy me.
The music shifted abruptly into a desperate, slow tempo.
I tore off the white dress, revealing a black tulle gown underneath.
Gasps rippled through the audience.
The piece entered its most powerful section.
I gathered all my strength and began my signature twelve fouetté turns.
The world blurred into smears of color around me.
On the tenth turn, I suddenly noticed the ornate wrought-iron chandelier overhead swaying abnormally.
I thought I was seeing things. But after completing the twelfth turn, I heard a teeth-grinding screech of metal on metal.
The next second, the chain suddenly snapped.
The entire chandelier plummeted straight toward my head!
It happened too fast.
I had no time to react.
"Cindy!"
Someone shouted my name, jolting me awake. Instinct threw me sideways.
But I was still balanced on one leg.
When I fell, all that force crashed down on my fragile knee.
Searing pain shot through me like lightning, obliterating every nerve.
Accompanied by an earth-shattering crash, the wrought-iron chandelier slammed into the floor.
My vision went gray. Pain sank deep into my bones. Even breathing felt impossible.