Gangster to Idol

"Trainee Riku!" A staff member approached, clipboard in hand.

"Y-yes?!" Riku jumped, his heart pounding.

"You're up first. Be ready in 30 minutes," the staff member said, barely glancing at him before moving on to the next trainee.

Riku looked like he'd just seen a ghost. "M-me? First?!"

"That's what I said," the staff member called over his shoulder as he walked away.

Riku turned to C.C., panic written all over his face. "W-what am I going to do?! There's a new judge today, and I'm going to be cannon fodder!"

Cain put a firm hand on Riku's shoulder, steadying him. "Relax. You've got the look, but your overall appeal isn't matching up. You're lacking that final touch to really sell it."

"Egh? What do you mean?" Riku asked, his anxiety peaking.

"Leave it to me," Cain said confidently, pulling out his [Celestial Comb]. "Nothing a god-tier hairstyle and a bit of eyeshadow won't fix."

Riku blinked, watching Cain as he set to work with the focus of a master craftsman.

With swift, practiced movements, Cain styled Riku's hair, giving it a tousled yet deliberate look that matched the street-rap aesthetic.

Next, Cain applied a hint of smoky eyeshadow, enough to make Riku's eyes pop without overwhelming his natural features.

"There. Now you look like someone who's here to compete," Cain said, stepping back to admire his work.

Riku stared at his reflection, wide-eyed. He hardly recognized himself. The clothes, the hair, the makeup — it all clicked together now. He looked confident, edgy, like someone who was ready to own the stage.

"C.C., this . . . this is incredible. I feel like a different person," Riku said, his voice filled with awe.

Cain nodded. "Good. Now go out there and show them what you've got. And remember, don't hold back. We're all here to win, but that doesn't mean we can't help each other out."

Riku gave Cain a nod, his earlier nervousness replaced with determination. "Thanks, C.C. I won't let you down."

"Don't let yourself down," Cain clarified with a grin. "Now go show that new judge what you're made of."

Their attention snapped to the stage as the host took the mic, his voice booming over the crowd. The familiar lineup of judges began filing in, each greeted with cheers from the audience. But then, the energy shifted.

"And now," the host announced with a dramatic pause, "let me introduce someone new. Someone who will bring a fresh perspective to the stage today."

Whispers rippled through the backstage area. Cain and Riku exchanged a glance, their curiosity piqued as the spotlight shifted.

"Please welcome," the host continued, his voice rising, "our special guest judge!"

A figure stepped into the light, her presence commanding attention. The audience erupted into a mix of surprise and excitement.

This wasn't just any judge — it was someone unexpected, someone who carried an air of authority and weight in the fashion world, a wild card in the competition.

The entire room held its breath. Dressed in a striking crimson gown that clung to her figure with effortless grace, she moved like a queen descending upon her court.

Her pink curls cascaded down her shoulders, framing her flawless face, every delicate movement radiating confidence and poise.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Let's welcome, Miss Felice Richardson!"

Whispers rippled through the crowd, her presence unmistakable.

Felice wasn't just anyone — she was a sensation, a name that dominated high society and turned heads wherever she went.

Her every pose, every style choice, became an instant trend, igniting firestorms on InstaPic as her millions of followers scrambled to replicate her latest looks.

As the spotlight bathed her in a soft glow, her crimson dress shimmered like embers, leaving the audience mesmerized.

A confident smile played on her lips as she made her way to the judge's seat, each step calculated and flawless, as if she knew all eyes were on her — and they were.

Cain's jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw Felice strut onto the stage. Your journey continues at m v|l-e'm,p| y- r

Was that even allowed?

He blinked in disbelief, trying to process what he was seeing. She wasn't just some celebrity — Felice Richardson was his benefactor. Wouldn't that make her biased toward him?

But then again, Cain barely knew the woman. Felice was as unpredictable as she was powerful, and if there was one thing Cain knew for sure, it was that she played by her own rules.

Seeing her sitting on the judges' panel was a shock, though. She wasn't supposed to be there — he was certain of that.

Felice had called the production team herself, saying she wanted to be a part of the show. And who could say no to Felice Richardson? No one. Not when she had hundreds of millions of followers hanging on her every word and move.

The production team had no choice but to accommodate her. She wasn't just a fashion icon; she was a force of nature, and with her appearance, everything about the competition shifted.

Cain wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or even more on edge. Felice was unpredictable, and in this game, that could either be his biggest advantage or his greatest downfall.

"Alright, time to bring out our first trainee!" the host announced, as the stage erupted into a dazzling display of lights and colors. The audience roared in anticipation.

"Riku's up first, right?" Mitchell asked, glancing down at the list.

Evelyn chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling. "I remember that kid. His face is so innocent, such a contrast to his hard-hitting rap skills."

"His rapping is vibrant, crisp, and definitely noteworthy," Mitcherll agreed, nodding in approval.

"Yeah, his rap might be good, but his dancing still needs serious improvement," Jaxton chimed in with a slight frown.

Kalista gave a quick nod in agreement, her eyes scanning the stage in anticipation.

Felice, however, remained silent, her expression unreadable.

Jaxton attempted to draw her into the conversation. After all, it wasn't every day that he got to socialize with someone of her stature — a high-society heiress with more influence than most could ever dream of.

"What do you think, Felice?" Jaxon asked, his voice smooth as he leaned toward her slightly.