The expressions on everyoneâs faces were a dead giveaway, their eyes filled with sympathy as they glanced in their way.
It seemed like Ivy had really bombed her performance earlier, maybe even forgot some steps in the middle of her routine.
Ophelia thought that if she were in a good mood, she might let it slide.
âAfter all, Ivy is an actress, attending dance rehearsals to prep for a show-stopping number at a fan meet-and-greet. Practicing just a handful of classes each day, how could she possibly outshine me?â
With this thought in mind, Ophelia was already picturing Ms. Madison declaring her the winner of the competition. But to her shock, Ms. Madison lifted Ivyâs hand high in the air!
She stared in disbelief. âYouâve got it wrong, Ms. Madison. Iâm on your left side. You should be raising your left hand!â
Ms. Madison blinked, lowered Ivyâs hand, and repeated, âI announce the winner of the first round is Ivy!â
Now, Ophelia was truly baffled. âEven if youâre biased, you canât just make stuff up in front of all these people, can you? The winner should be clear as day! Ms. Madison, I used to respect you, but now, just to curry favor with Ivy and Balfour, youâre lying to everyoneâs face?â
Ms. Madison gave her a weary look. âWhy are you so convinced you had it in the bag? Have you ever wondered why no one objected when I said Ivy won? Look around at their faces.â
Prompted by her words, Ophelia finally noticed the looks she mistook for sympathy towards Ivy were actually aimed at her!
Shaking her head in disbelief, she stepped back. âYouâve all got it wrong. Sheâs the one who should admit defeat. Has she brainwashed you, too?â
The others averted their eyes, unable to bear the sight.
Eventually, Ms. Madison stepped in. âOphelia, Iâve told you before, your dancing is technically fine, but itâs just too⦠show-offy. Youâre so focused on flaunting yourself that you forget dance is about expression, about conveying an understanding of the movements, not just showcasing yourself. You hog the spotlight, get it?â
Unconvinced, Ophelia snorted coldly. âOf course, because sheâs your student and a big star, youâre playing favorites. You say my dancingâs too showy; what about her? Is she so great? Donât tell me youâre going to play the ânatural talentâ card again; Iâve heard that excuse one too many times.â
This time, Ms. Madison didnât say a word. She simply asked whoever had recorded the dance to hand over their phone so Ophelia could see for herself who was the better dancer.
At first, Ophelia watched with a look of disdain, but as the video played, her expression darkened.
Her dance and Ivyâs dance were the polar opposites of what Ms. Madison had been emphasizing: one was all about self-display, the other about becoming one with the dance.
âAfter all these years of dancing, you should know who won and who lost after watching this video. Itâs just the first round. Do you want to go on?â
If Ophelia lost two rounds in a row, sheâd never live it down in this studio. Ms. Madison was giving her a choice.
Just as Ophelia stubbornly prepared to nod, Ivy spoke up and graciously opted out of the next round.
Ophelia was taken aback. âAre you scared or something?â
Ms. Madison nearly rolled her eyes right there. Ivy was trying to leave Ophelia with some dignity, and she had the nerve to think Ivy was scared of her.