Chapter 393

Chapter 393:
Her heels tapped a steady rhythm down the corridor, and with a gentle nudge from the staff, Millie stepped onto the stage just as the previous performer exited.
Pitch darkness enveloped the stage while she stood her ground, waiting for the host to catch the cue to begin.
“Up next, we have Serena—” The host’s announcement was abruptly cut off by a piercing shout from the crowd.
“Serena, we don’t want you here!”
“Step down, Serena!”
“Go home, Serena!”
The shouts intensified, and soon, objects began to be hurled at the stage.
Charles, having prepared for this very moment, quickly dispatched security to restore order.
Wiping sweat from his brow, the host pressed on as instructed. “Let’s hear it for Serena, performing ‘Sculpture.’” Without another word, he hurried offstage.
At the judges’ panel, Vivian watched the unfolding drama with barely concealed satisfaction.
“Let’s see you claw your way out of this, Serena,” Vivian thought, a slight smile tugging at her lips.
Meanwhile, Millie held her position in the shadows, and as the lights slowly rose, the audience was met with a scene straight out of a dream.
At the center stood Serena, her mask in place, half of her body appearing in reality, the other seemingly encased in plaster.
The unusual sight left the audience unsettled, and hushed questions rippled through the rows.
“What are we even looking at?” No one had an answer.
“It doesn’t matter. Kick Serena out!” someone shouted, fanning the flames.
“Throw Serena out! She’s a disgrace!”
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“Serena, you don’t belong here!”
Angry chants ricocheted through the auditorium.
On the sidelines, Millie’s costume designer watched with a pounding heart, filled with nerves and worry, as Serena remained motionless under the lights.
A soft, rhythmic tapping suddenly broke through the noise, gentle as a sculptor shaping stone. To the steady rhythm of the tapping, Serena, her face still half-shielded in plaster, began her song. She wove the story of a forsaken sculpture who, awakened by the Muse’s kiss, found the will to carve her own form.
Note by note, the plaster seemed to crumble away, each verse hinting at her transformation and rebirth. Her voice held an unusual, hypnotic pull, drawing every eye and ear in the audience. Even the most vocal protesters fell silent, unable to tear their eyes away from the masked Serena as she commanded the stage.
Vivian immediately sensed the shift in the mood and discreetly sent a message to Oakley beneath the table.
Soon, fresh unrest broke out. Someone in the crowd began stirring up dissent once again. Those who refused to join in the boycott were met with glares and harsh words from those around them.
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you so quiet? Anyone who defends Serena must be just as twisted—she’s a liar who scammed charity money! You think that’s admirable? You need your head checked!”
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. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ