"No wonder it's so short," Jaxon remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Cain gave a slight shrug, unfazed. Sure, his performance clocked in at only a minute and thirty seconds — half the length of the others' three-minute showcases — but that didn't bother him.
He could tell Jaxon wasn't a fan, but Cain didn't care. He knew his performance hit harder in those ninety seconds than most could manage in three minutes. Quality over quantity. Always.
Of course it was short — he had only had a week to pull it together. He'd written the lyrics, fed them into an AI to generate the beat and melody, then layered in his own musical touches, adding instruments he had learned to play.
It was a mashup of styles, but it worked, bound together by the driving energy of Electronic Dance Music.
The unique blend gave it an unexpected edge, and the theme of breaking free and living in the moment resonated with everyone. It was chaotic but somehow cohesive — just like Cain himself.
"It's still far from perfect," Fifi said as she flew over to Cain, her small wings flapping quickly. "You need to work on your tone and really find your voice sooner than later."
Cain nodded, taking in her words. She was right. He wasn't there yet, but he was getting there.
He really hoped that the mentors could help him with his voice, or his chances to debut as an idol would be gone.
"Wait while we discuss your score," Evelyn said with a smile, gesturing for the mentors to huddle up.
As they gathered, Evelyn began, "As much as I want to give him a 10 for his overall performance, his vocals still need improvement. It's not bad, but it's not great either. Considering he's an independent trainee, I'll give him a 7."
Mitchell nodded in agreement. "I feel like the beat of the music carried his voice, instead of the other way around. So, a 7 from me too."
Kalista didn't hesitate. She immediately raised her scorecard — 10. "His moves were solid, perfectly in sync with the music. I was impressed."
All eyes turned to Jaxon, the mentor known for his sharp critiques of dance.
The other mentors exchanged brief glances but refrained from questioning Jaxon's low score. It didn't matter — moments like this added drama to the show.
A little unfairness was part of the spectacle.
"I was sure that was a 10," one trainee murmured.
"Right? I thought C.C. would be the first to hit 34 points."
"That level of dance is still lacking? C.C. had the most impressive moves I've seen so far."
From the shadows, Fifi fluttered near Cain's ear and whispered, "Looks like this Jaxon guy got some kind of personal grudge against you."
Cain kept his composure, and simply bowed and said his thanks before returning to his seat.
Riku looked genuinely upset, his brows furrowed. "I really thought you'd be the first to get 34 points. That 6 didn't make sense, especially after a performance like that. I mean, I even got a 5 and I was nowhere your level in dancing."
Cain waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine. 30 points isn't bad."
Riku's face lit up with enthusiasm. "You're right! Plus, we get to stay in the same group!"
Cain raised an eyebrow. "Same group?"
"Yeah! The first round determines which group we'll be placed in. Like the previous shows, scores of 0-20 mean they will be put on a beginner's level of training. Those who score 20-30, like us, are considered intermediate, and our training is different than the first group. The ones above are the experts — they get different lessons too."
Cain crossed his arms, thinking it over. "Intermediate, huh?" It wasn't the top, but it wasn't bad either. It gave him room to breathe, time to focus on refining his vocals and truly finding his voice.
He really hope the mentors in their group would help him in his vocals.