Chapter 108: Jealousy’s Grip, Courage’s Shield
Ej's mind raced, disbelief and jealousy crashing over him in waves. His dream—his one true dream—had always been to sing alongside her.
Not even the top idols or A-list celebrities could casually just duet with Raneisha. There was a long list of artists waiting for the opportunity to collaborate with her, and she picked this guy?
Why C.C.?!
What made him special?
What was so good about him?
EJ couldn't understand it, couldn't accept it. The thought of Raneisha singing with someone else felt like a knife twisting in his chest – a nobody at that!
EJ's fists clenched, his knuckles white with frustration. He could barely contain the hatred burning inside him. His eyes narrowed, glaring at C.C., whose calm demeanor only made things worse.
It felt like a slap in the face, like C.C. was dismissing his dream as if it meant nothing. He was dismissing almost half of the population's dreams.
Cain, oblivious to the storm brewing inside EJ, shrugged and started to leave. His indifference only fueled EJ's anger, igniting something dark inside him.
As Cain walked away, EJ's resolve hardened. No matter what it takes, I'm bringing you down, C.C.!
Meanwhile, Cain strode toward the elevator when a sudden sneeze caught him off guard. He wiped his nose, frowning.
"Huh? Is someone badmouthing me?" he muttered.
Fifi giggled, her tiny wings fluttering playfully beside him. "It's probably that guy back there. He looked like he wanted to kill you. If he had a knife in his hand, you might not be standing here right now."
Cain blinked, confused. "That guy? EJ? Why would he want to kill me?" He shook his head, genuinely baffled. "It's just competition—nothing serious enough for that kind of hatred. But if he wants to take a swing at it, I'll gladly welcome him." His knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through his veins.
The thought of EJ even attempting to stand against him was almost laughable. "I really don't enjoy bullying the weak, but . . ."
Fifi rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You always turn to violence as your answer," she huffed, flying closer to him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But I think I know why he hates you. Want me to tell you?" Her voice lilted with a singsong tone, as if holding onto a juicy secret.
Cain shot her a sideways glance, unimpressed. "Not interested," he grumbled.
"I said I don't want to!"
The sudden, desperate voice stopped Cain in his tracks. He looked over toward the fork in the hallway, where he spotted Rhea and Lexter, their tense confrontation unfolding before him.
Rhea's face was flushed with frustration, her fists clenched by her sides as she stood her ground. Lexter, towering over her, sneered with an air of condescension.
"Rhea, don't be an idiot," Lexter spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know what's best here. You're competing with us in the next round, do you really think you stand a chance? A fan vote is going to decide who enters the next challenge. Do you think you have a strong enough following to get you through? You'll be nothing without my help."
Rhea flinched, her confidence wavering as his words cut deep. But before she could respond, a new voice rang out, lazily calm.
"What's this? Are you pushing yourself on her even though she already said no?" Cain's voice was low, a warning simmering beneath his calm exterior.
Lexter snapped his head around, his eyes narrowing as he saw C.C. approaching. "Stay out of this, C.C.! This doesn't concern you."
Rhea was trembling, and seized the moment. She whisked her hand out of Lexter's grasp and rushed toward C.C., almost hiding behind him as if seeking refuge.
Cain stood tall, his presence a shield between her and Lexter, his expression unreadable but dangerously calm.
Looking at him, Rhea's heart thundered against her chest, each beat echoing in her ears like a war drum. She didn't understand it—why she felt this surge of warmth and security.
The way he towered over her, his presence solid and confident, made her feel something she hadn't in a long time—safe.
Lexter's face twisted in anger, his usual composure shattered. Now that the cameras were off during the break, he didn't hold back, spewing degrading words. "You think you're something special, huh, Rhea? You're pathetic—clinging to him like you cling to me before. Without me, you're nothing! Without my connections, you're—"
Lexter stopped cold when C.C. turned his gaze on him. The intensity of his glare was primal, like a beast lurking beneath the surface, ready to pounce. His eyes blazed with an unspoken threat, daring Lexter to continue. It was more than a look—it was a promise of violence.
Lexter's bravado faltered, but his arrogance wouldn't let him back down. He took a step toward Rhea, grabbing her wrist as if to assert control. "You're not running from this. You need me. You'll regret—"
That was the breaking point.
Without a word, Cain moved like lightning, his fist connecting squarely with Lexter's face. The impact was brutal, sending Lexter stumbling backward, clutching his jaw in shock.
The hallway echoed with the sickening sound of the punch, and Lexter hit the wall, sliding down in a daze.
Fifi shook her head but she didn't stop Cain.
Cain didn't bother looking down at Lexter. He turned his attention to Rhea, his voice calm again, but with an edge. "You alright?"
Rhea nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of relief, awe, and worry. "Y-yes, but . . . is it alright to punch him like that? You might get into trouble."
"It's fine. The rules only apply during the show. We're on an official break now, so whatever happens, it's no longer RRR's concern."
Lexter groaned, barely able to get to his feet, but one glance at C.C.—who stood like a predator poised to strike again—was enough to keep him reeling away.
"You'll regret this! I swear! You'll regret mutilating my face! I'll report you!" Lexter spat, fury twisting his features.
Cain didn't flinch. He knew the rules—and more importantly, he knew Lexter didn't have a leg to stand on. After all, Lexter had been the one harassing Rhea first. If he tried to report anything, he'd only dig his own grave.
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