Chapter 93

Chapter 93:

Madisyn stood backstage with quiet confidence while the competition unfolded. As other contestants took their turns, Rosaline and Gerard returned from their performances buzzing with excitement. Lynda was visibly pleased.

“You both did wonderfully!” Lynda praised them.

Rosaline smiled, admitting, “I was really nervous, but then I remembered what Madi suggested—imagining the audience as cabbages. It helped a lot!”

Gerard, surprised, chimed in, “You did that too? I thought I was the only one!”

Lynda laughed. “It seems Madisyn’s tip works wonders.”

But as the excitement settled, Lynda’s face clouded with a hint of worry. “Julie is performing right before you, Madisyn. She’s really prepared this time, and if she does well, the audience might expect the next performance to be equally impressive.”

Madisyn remained calm, offering Lynda a small, reassuring smile. “I’m not worried,” she said softly.

Julie’s performance was next, and her teacher, Bill Carman, stood backstage with her, offering last-minute tips. Brimming with confidence, Julie assured him, “Don’t worry, Mr. Carman. I’ll make sure Madisyn is embarrassed.”

The lights dimmed, and the audience’s attention focused on Julie. She started her routine, graceful and precise, captivating the crowd with her fluid movements. The judges watched her intently, nodding in approval as her performance unfolded seamlessly.

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Backstage, Lynda watched the live broadcast of Julie’s performance, feeling a twinge of concern. She hadn’t expected Julie to be this good. The choreography was impressive, clearly crafted by a professional.

As she glanced at Madisyn, who appeared lost in thought, Lynda gently reassured her, “Julie’s good, but your dancing skills are far superior.”

Madisyn simply blinked, appearing unbothered. She quietly took out her phone and navigated to a covert website—a platform for professionals offering specialized services, like choreographers and even assassins. Months ago, Madisyn had submitted a choreography routine for a client, and it turned out Julie was performing that very routine now.

“I’m not worried,” Madisyn repeated, this time with a knowing smile.

Lynda, though, remained on edge. She was sure that, deep down, Madisyn must be feeling the pressure after witnessing Julie’s strong performance.

When Julie exited the stage, the crowd erupted in applause. It was now Madisyn’s turn.

Madisyn took the stage, standing silently for a moment before kneeling gracefully, her hand poised at her neck, her expression filled with melancholy. Her fluid movements wove a story of heartbreak and strength, pulling the audience into her world.

The crowd was spellbound.

Madisyn’s technique was flawless, but what truly captured everyone was the emotion she poured into each step. She didn’t just dance—she lived every moment of the performance.

The stage was alive with her presence, and no one could tear their eyes away.

Lynda was so engrossed in the performance that she lost track of time. It wasn’t until Madisyn finished and bowed deeply that the audience, too, snapped out of their trance. A moment of stunned silence followed, then the applause began—thunderous and unrelenting.

“Which country is she from? She’s amazing!” someone in the crowd exclaimed.

“She’s from Lorpond!” a proud spectator shouted, eyes welling with emotion. In just the first round, Madisyn had shifted the world’s perception of Lorpond’s dance scene.

As people posted about her stunning performance online, excitement spread rapidly. Meanwhile, Julie, still backstage, was frozen in place. She hadn’t expected this outcome. Despite the roar of applause, she stood rigid, a flicker of humiliation in her eyes as she realized she had underestimated Madisyn.

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