Gangster to Idol

Cain scratched his head, utterly lost.

But then, something shifted in him. He saw the raw vulnerability in her words, the self-doubt she was drowning in.

And for some reason, it struck a chord with him. He understood what it was like to feel discarded, unwanted.

"You're wrong," Cain said softly, his voice carrying more weight than he expected.

Rhea looked up, surprised.

"What?"

"You're wrong about yourself," Cain continued. "You think that because you don't fit into their mold, you won't survive. But what you think is your biggest weakness . . . it's actually your greatest strength.

Your skin, your hair — they're part of what makes you unique. Why would you want to blend in with everyone else when you can stand out?"

Rhea stared at him, her tears slowing as his words sunk in.

"You don't need Spectrum to define you," Cain said, more confidently now. "Sure, they provide a lot of resources, but they don't control your talent. Your voice, your passion, your drive — that's all you. So stop thinking you need them to succeed. You're strong enough on your own."

"Besides, I kind of like your voice," Cain said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "You've got a unique sound. That little twist of slang when you sing—it's different, but in a good way."

Rhea blinked through her tears, surprised by the compliment. A soft laugh escaped her lips, despite the emotions still swirling inside her. "You mean the way I mix in my dialect? My coach always told me to tone it down."
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Cain shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Nah, don't tone it down. That's what makes your singing stand out. It's real. You've got this soulful, R&B vibe with a little bit of that street slang. It gives your music heart."

Rhea wiped her face, her tears slowing. "You really think so?"

"I do," Cain said, his voice sincere. "It's raw and genuine. You're not trying to sound like everyone else. You should own that."

There was a long silence, broken only by the wind rustling the palm trees around them. Rhea wiped her face one last time, her breath steadying.

"I . . . I never thought of it that way," she whispered.

Cain shrugged, feeling a bit awkward again. "Well, just think about it. It's not the end of the world. You've still got a shot as long as you're still in. And I know a little about hairstyling. I can style your hair when it would come to it."

Rhea nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, C.C. Really. That means a lot."

Cain stood up, stretching his arms. "No problem. Just don't let them get to you, alright?"

As he walked away, he could feel Fifi's amused presence in his mind. "That was surprisingly good advice, Cain. Maybe you're not as bad at comforting people as you thought."

Cain scoffed. "Yeah, well, don't expect me to make a habit of it."

But even as he said it, he couldn't deny the small sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest.

[ACQUIRED SKILL! Comforting Presence]

|| Comforting Presence LV.10 ||

A game-changer in emotional moments. It reflects your ability to provide support and uplift others with a 10% success when they're at their lowest.

This could lead to interesting dynamics with others, allowing you to unlock deeper relationships or even gain unexpected allies through moments of genuine connection.

|| E N D ||

"Oh. A new skill," Cain muttered, surprised as the notification appeared in his mind.

Fifi floated beside him. "Hmm . . . not bad. This skill will greatly boost your relationships with others.

It'll come in handy."

"What? You think I can't make friends without it?" Cain shot back, his tone defensive.

Fifi only giggled and flitted away. "You're the one who said that."

As Cain disappeared from the rooftop, Rhea slowly pulled herself to her feet, wiping the last traces of tears from her face.

She glanced at the sky, feeling a strange mix of emotions. He was right. Before Spectrum, before all the makeup artists and stylists, before they reshaped her into a polished idol, she was already singing on stages and in bars, owning her unique style.

When she first entered Spectrum, they changed everything about her — straightened her wild curls, lightened her skin, and dressed her in pastel-colored outfits that never felt like her.

The girl who once sang with raw, soulful grit was buried under layers of manufactured perfection. Spectrum had held her by the neck, controlling every aspect of her appearance and music.

But now that they'd let her go, she felt a strange sense of relief washing over her. It was like a weight had been lifted. She was free to be herself again.

No more pretense, no more bending to fit into their mold.

Maybe, just maybe, she could rediscover that raw voice she'd lost.

=== 🎶 ===

Cain pushed the door open to his room, only to find Riku and Damien packing up their things. The atmosphere felt charged, a mixture of excitement and tension hanging in the air.

Riku glanced over, tears brimming in his eyes. "C.C., we're moving to the upper floors. The production team said we can take one of the empty rooms up there."

Damien was standing by the door with a smug expression, and smirked. "It just means that trainees who scored above a hundred points get their own rooms now. Unlike you."

Cain shrugged, unfazed by Damien's comment, but before he could respond, Riku jumped in, trying to soften the blow. "Damien, come on. Everyone knows C.C. just had a bad day. If it weren't for his sore throat, he would've hit a hundred easy. Plus, Mentor Jaxton seems to have it out for him."

Damien scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Keep making excuses. You two can lick each other's wounds all you want. You'll need it when the finals roll around."

With a smirk, Damien grabbed his luggage and stepped closer to C.C., his posture tense as if trying to intimidate him. "Oh, and don't think for a second that Felice's little wink meant anything special. You're dreaming."

He brushed past C.C., aiming to bump him hard, hoping to knock him off balance. But Damien quickly realized C.C. was a lot sturdier than he looked. Instead of C.C. recoiling, Damien was the one who stumbled back, awkwardly regaining his balance. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to play it off, but the embarrassment was clear.

Without another word, Damien stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him.