"Contestant number eight..."
Laura gripped the microphone, her eyes bright and cold as she stared straight at Olivia. The crowd buzzed with curiosity.
"What do you think Laura's going to ask her?"
"Isn't it obvious? She's about to offer Olivia a spot as her student, probably do whatever it takes to recruit her."
"Then why is she looking at Olivia like that?"
Her gaze was sharp, almost dangerous.
The room quieted as Laura spoke into the mic. "The piece you just played... that was your own composition, right?"
The question hit Olivia hard. Her smile faded, her heart thumping in her chest.
In the VIP seats, Charlotte switched hands to prop up her chin, her eyes narrowing as she watched the stage, a hint of coldness flickering in her expression.
"I..." Olivia hadn't expected this at all. Her face drained of color, her throat tight.
She took a shaky breath, then forced herself to answer. "Yes. It's my original piece."
Laura’s expression turned serious. Her voice rang out, louder, firmer. "Let me ask you again. Did you write this piece completely on your own? Every note, every idea?"
The tension in the room thickened. Was Laura really accusing Olivia of stealing? In a competition this big, cheating was career-ending. No one would risk it.

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