EJ slipped out of the practice room, muttering something about needing a break, and made his way toward the bathroom.
It had been a long, intense day of episode, and now endless meeting on how to approach the next challenge. He just needed a moment to clear his head.
However, as he rounded the corner, he froze in his tracks.
There she was.
Raneisha, the goddess of the stage, stepping gracefully out of a studio room. EJ blinked, hardly believing his eyes.
It wasn't like he hadn't seen her before—they were part of the same industry, after all—but this was different. She wasn't surrounded by cameras or crowds of people. She was just . . . there. Explore more at mvl
Alone.
His heart started hammering in his chest. He'd dreamed of this moment—just a chance to talk to her alone outside of practice.
EJ wasn't just a fan; he was a superfan. His room was practically a shrine to her. Posters lined every wall, from her first album to the latest photoshoot. He owned every collectible, every limited edition, every piece of merchandise ever released with her name on it.
She was the reason he had started singing in the first place, the inspiration behind every note he had ever hit.
For years, he had imagined what it would be like to sing with her, to share a stage, to even just be in the same room. She was the pinnacle of everything he aspired to be.
And now she was standing a few feet away, her beauty even more breathtaking in person, her presence radiating effortlessly.
He watched as she closed the door behind her, her face slightly flushed, like something had happened inside the room. Her usually poised demeanor seemed shaken for just a moment, but then she straightened up, composed once more, and began to walk down the hallway.
EJ's mind raced. This was his chance. His heart screamed at him to move, to say something, anything. His legs, though, felt like they were made of lead.
His chest ached with disappointment, his mind flooded with images of her. How many nights had he stayed up, listening to her albums on repeat? How many hours had he spent imagining a duet, standing side by side with her on stage, their voices blending perfectly?
All those dreams felt so distant now.
Just as he was about to walk back, he paused, glancing at the door she had just exited from. There was something strange about her expression when she left, as though something unexpected had happened. Curiosity gnawed at him, and without thinking, he moved toward the door.
His hand hesitated on the handle for a moment before he pushed it open, and what he saw inside almost made him stop in his tracks.
C.C. stood in the center of the room, his usual composed expression tinged with something EJ had never seen before: confusion, maybe even vulnerability.
His brows were knitted, lips pressed together as though he was trying to piece together something that made no sense. His face was flush too just like Raneisha!
EJ blinked, realization dawning on him. They were together!
Whatever had happened between Raneisha and C.C in that room . . . Ej didn't like it!
Anger surged through EJ, and before he could stop himself, he stormed into the room, his voice trembling with fury. "You! What have you done with Raneisha?!"
Cain turned, his face calm as he took in EJ's flustered expression. His brow furrowed. "What?"
"Don't act like you don't know!" EJ's voice cracked, raw with emotion. "I saw Raneisha just walk out of here! What did you do to her?!"
Cain raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about? She asked me to duet. That's it. I didn't do anything to her." He paused, the memory of their moment together flashing in his mind. If anything, she had done something to him, something he couldn't shake.
EJ's heart stopped for a second. Duet? He stood there, stunned, his breath caught in his throat. Raneisha—the Raneisha—duetting with him?
What?! Why?!