The Cherry Bolt Princess' Desperate Audition

[Rainyday 678]

How did this win the story writing competition

What a shock

 

The Cherry Bolt Princess' Desperate Audition

 

 

**Disclaimer: The audition process here, and the idol world in general, has been changed for the sake of artistic license and probably doesn't accurately represent actual idol auditions that well

(I researched into them a bit and decided to change almost the entire process for a better story)**

 

The idol industry.

With its roots in Japan's pop culture scene, it had since claimed a foothold on the worldwide stage, and was rapidly gaining public momentum.

A system specialized in polishing a handful of gemstones to light up the surrounding monotone desert.

A pristine, glittering castle standing atop a mountain of crushed hopes and dreams.

Unreachable superstars. They were called idols because they were idolized.

Actors, singers, dancers, and personalities beyond personalities; the world of idols was a carefully-crafted pantheon of Adonises and youthful Aphrodites.

 

At that moment, seated with trepidation at the edge of a stage in front of hundreds of people, legs tightly crossed and occasionally tensing up with slight shivers, was the upcoming young star, Melody Raid, waiting for the next round of the idol audition to commence.

Female idols were admired by boys and girls alike, styled as the perfect models of glamor and grace. Girls looked up to them as their role models, the epitome of feminine achievement, and boys viewed them as angels: motivational tastes of perfection. That wasn't saying that all idols had to act the same, of course. The opposite was closer: if a girl could smile, perform, and simply enjoy being herself to the very best of her ability, that was enough to spark up the golden light of an idol in the air around her.

To the majority, the blissful perfection of an idol was untouchable. In a sense, they were viewed as something beyond human.

Idols didn't get sick, or have bad days, or fade in beauty, or need the bathroom.

They were pure, and graceful, and immaculate.

That's what Melody Raid frantically tried to remind herself as she applied a slight pressure to the top of her skirt, finding it harder and harder to ignore the growing pool of pressure building in the apex of her thighs. Still in the midst of her life-changing audition, with no break in sight, it was her last, and most potent, mental defense.

She wanted to become an idol. She needed to hold herself up to those standards.

If she was good enough, she'd be able to hold it in.

Idols didn't need the bathroom.

Idols didn't need the bathroom.

A sudden contraction made her clamp her legs tighter, losing her train of thought in a blurry haze of desperation until it passed, and her eyes refocused.

She was a girl who was going to be an idol, so she definitely, absolutely didn't need the bathroom...!

 

~~~~~

 

It was a bright afternoon. A few hours before, just past midday, was when Melody Raid hopped off the bus in front of Glass Pegasus Productions, one of the biggest talent agencies in the country, which was hosting their annual live idol audition today. The largest rookie idol event of the year, twelve competitors would perform their hearts out to an audience and panel of judges, and the winners would receive a contract with Glass Pegasus, which was practically a guarantee for future success.

            Everything started in an hour's time, so she had a bit of time to prepare, but already, she could spot one or two competitors gathered beyond the large glass doors, shining like clashing constellations.

            She took a slow breath. She could do this. She'd spent all of yesterday picking out her clothes, and an hour that morning getting her hairstyle and makeup right. On instinct, she slid her fingers down the side of her cherry-red bangs, dipping them in like ripples on the surface of a silk pool, and pinching the final wispy tips of her small lateral ponytail between the sides of her short pink fingernails. Yes. There was nothing wrong with how she looked. An idol always looked her best. Idols didn't just wear styles, they commanded them. Idols didn't overdress, or underdress. They looked exactly how they needed, and Melody told herself she was confident she did.

            “We're here.” With the quiet clap of shoes hitting the pavement behind her, a second person  stepped out of the bus and strode professionally beside her while she was still gazing up at the size of the building.

            Melody's manager, Nicolo Gearman, was a young man just a few years older than her, at age twenty-two. He wasn't here to audition as an idol, so compared to Melody, there weren't many notable details about him at a glance, but he was someone Melody could trust. Mild and careful, he was the stark opposite of anything you would expect an idol to be, but his sincerity and skills were real. Calmly working behind the scenes with his sharp intuition and keen marketing sense, he'd helped guide Melody to victory in many smaller competitions, and kindled a growing online fan club for her name. Across the internet, her performing talent and feisty character had earned her the title 'Cherry-Bolt Princess', a girl who took pride in her ability and charisma. All their efforts and preparation paid off when they received an invitation to participate in this audition.

            It had been a steady uphill climb so far, but now it was the real thing. Now that Melody was a blip on the entertainment world's radar, it was time for her to take the leap.

            Victory today would be the first major landmark in both their careers.

            “Melody, how are you feeling?” If he was nervous, he didn’t show it, for Melody’s sake. He was backstage support. The real star was her.

            “I...I feel...”

Melody paused to think through the swirl of signals inside her. She felt like this was the most important test of her life so far. Like the world would look different once she stepped back out of those doors. Like the building was a ten-story stage, and she was itching to dance her way through it. The sky was the limit.

            “Hmmm, I feel good, I guess?”

            “Then you'll do fine.”

The both of them began walking inside.

 

The building's lobby was busy and large, stretched out like the entrance to a grand hotel, with indoor cafés and souvenir shops to each side. Nicolo registered them with the receptionist, who ticked Melody's name off a printed list of twelve, and told them to be at the eighth floor indoor concert stage at least forty minutes before the audition started.

            The building had a small Starbucks in the corner, so Nicolo bought a pair of drinks to pass the time, and they sat peacefully at the counter, the calm before the clashing of twelve young burning storms. Melody relished the company of a cup of iced mocha to calm her nerves, and her shoulders slowly lifted and sank with her breathing as she drank her way through the large serving, legs crossed and feet dangling from the high counter seat.

            “...Things are really getting serious now, aren't they, 'Colo?” She mumbled between sips, pushing the ice cubes around the glass with her straw. An uncharacteristically meek side to her that she didn't show to most people. The tension was even affecting Melody, but Nicolo knew how to calm her.

            “Just focus and do your best.” He brushed some dust off her thin cotton jacket. “You know you have talent, and you've practiced so much that you couldn't mess up even if you tried. You can easily do your best, and your best will give anyone a serious run for their money.”

            “I don't want to let you down.”

            “You've never let me down once.” He shrugged, “Of course, there's no guarantee of a win. A few surprise prodigy competitors could always appear out of nowhere, but I'd say we have a very good chance of getting through this.”

            That's right. Never, since they first met two years ago, introduced by family friends, had Nicolo overestimated Melody's ability. In fact, he wouldn't say it to her since she usually had enough to boast about, but in terms of some areas of skill, Melody was the closest person to a prodigy he'd seen.

            “Hmmm. Hmmmmmm. I see.” Melody nodded, the tiny fire relighting in her eyes and a wide, cheeky grin growing across her face as if it had never gone. “Thanks, 'Colo.”

           He hadn't told her anything she didn't know, but simply talking to him gave her confidence. She wasn't alone. The pair of them had overcome a lot together.

            “Got your energy back? We should be heading up soon, too.” Nicolo smiled as he put away his memo book.

            “Right.”

Melody reached to take another sip of her mocha when she realized it was finished. She paused for a moment.

           

            “...Ah.”

             She blinked, blushing as she felt a delicate twinge in her lower abdomen. Eyes fixed on the bottom of her emptied mocha cup, where a small puddle of clear water was forming from the leftover ice, she realized she needed to go take care of something private.

            “Ready to set off?” Nicolo looked over.

            “Ahaha, not yet.” She hopped off the counter seat, cheeks slightly pink. “I'll just be a moment.”

 

            Melody walked hesitantly around the large building lobby, trying to search without looking like she was searching for something. With less than an hour left before the audition, a small crowd was gathering around the lobby, eager to watch the upcoming idols perform. As a well-known contestant, Melody's appearance naturally drew people's gazes as she walked, which was usually excellent for publicity, but now it only heightened her self-consciousness. She walked with slow, casual steps to avoid belying her motive, and gently breathed out in relief when she saw the sign for the bathrooms.

 

~~~~~

 

            “Welcome back.” Nicolo was waiting at the Starbucks entrance when Melody returned, slightly breathless. “Should we head to the elevators now?”

           “Yeah, sure.” She nodded with her normal, refreshing smile. Her thighs swayed closer together for a moment, so subtle that it went unnoticed.

 

There had been a blank look on Melody's face for a moment when she saw the large line into the female bathroom, mostly of girls a bit below her age that had come to watch the performance. She took a breath, swallowed her reluctance, and quickly turned around. As an idol-in-training, there was no way she could be seen lining up to use the bathroom. Absolutely no way. Truthfully, while it would only be a scratch on her image, it would be a crippling blow to her dignity. She couldn’t. But still.

After another moment of strong hesitation, she walked to lean across the receptionist's desk.

            “Umm, are there any other restrooms around here?” She asked politely in a tone so quiet it was almost a whisper, but the receptionist simply pointed in the direction she'd came from.

            Melody returned to Starbucks, pushing the mild biological annoyance behind her smile. She could definitely feel it, but it wasn't anything that bad. She'd had to hold it in longer before when performing on stage. She'd look for a bathroom on the eighth floor, but even without one, the audition would only go on for two or three hours, so she could manage.

 

            That was how it happened for a while. Leaving the elevator, Melody and Nicolo were immediately caught in a conversation with a passing judge, who talked animatedly about how he'd seen videos of Melody's performances, how she was one of the most promising candidates this year, and he had high hopes and was looking forward to being impressed. Nicolo was glad to see that Melody had returned to her usual radiant and spunky personality, accepting the compliments graciously while mixing in enough of her aloof charm to leave an endearing impression.

            “It's pretty refreshing to see you're exactly like how you are on stage.” The judge beamed, “I've seen plenty of idols who undergo a complete change in character once they're away from the public.”
            “Of course!” She smirked back, hand on her chest, “There isn't an artificial bone in my whole body! There's no way you'll find this Melody written down on any score sheet!”

She gleefully laughed and continued talking, gazing absentmindedly down the corridor at times to try and seek out any indicators of a bathroom.

 

            Just as their conversation was nearing a close, a tall man with a clipboard called for all the candidates to head to the backstage area. Pressing her lips together, Melody's fingers rubbed the side of her skirt as she set off with Nicolo.

            The audition format was simple. Twelve girls and two rounds. The first round was a test to see how quickly the girls could learn. They were given a selection of three songs with choreography created especially for the audition, and after choosing one, they had thirty minutes to learn it before they exhibited it to the judges. All candidates had to be seated on-stage for all twelve performances, to make sure none of them could fit in extra practice.

            The second round was for the contestants to perform an original composition of their own. Melody was prepared for that. That was somewhere she felt she could win.

           

            The three songs were revealed, all famous singles from Glass Pegasus idols, and Melody knew all three. She instantly picked Passionfruit, a bubbly techno-pop song with a lively rhythm, and rushed down the stairs to the seventh floor practice hall to start. There wasn't time to talk to her competitors – from now, until the moment it was over, they were all opponents.

            Nicolo scrambled down to meet her there, where she was already loading the CD into one of the supplied TVs to watch the choreography video.

            “I would say that I'd prefer it if we talked over the choice first, even for a moment-” He sighed as it started playing, “But I agree with this decision, so I can't complain.”

            The two of them watched the four-minute video in silence at first, soaking it in. Without taking her eyes off the screen, Melody was already quietly mimicking some of the actions with her arms, almost in a trance. The Cherry Bolt Princess was aloof, and whimsical, and playful, but when she was focused on her goal, nothing could stop her.

            “Right, I've burned it into my memory!” Melody jumped up the moment it was over, fists pumped. “Let's give this a shot, 'Colo!”

 

Nicolo restarted the CD. Melody didn't miss a single beat, even on her first try. She never let the energy down for a moment and had the timing down perfect.

 

Except.

 

            “Melody.” Nicolo restarted the CD once more, “Your improvisation skills are great, we both know that, but... making up new moves to cover for what you forgot kind of defeats the point of the exercise.”

            “Ahahaha.” With nothing to say back, the rising star replied with a sheepish laugh.

 

Thirty minutes passed in a flash.

Satisfied with her progress, Melody wiped the sweat off her forehead as Nicolo a thermos out from his bag.

            “Good work, want a drink?”

            “That's perfect.”

            She was thirsty enough to accept it and gulp the water down without thinking. It was only after she'd finished half of it that she forced herself to stop, her eyes snapping open and her knees shaking slightly: the flow of water down her throat had reminded her of a different flow that she was holding back.

            It was feeling very slightly urgent now.

            “Are you okay?” Nicolo was sharp enough to notice something was wrong.

            “Ahhh, 'Colo, I'm just gonna wash my hands for a bit.” She quickly dashed out of the room.

With very few people on the seventh floor, Melody didn't need to pretend she wasn't in a hurry. She quickly darted left and right, the tapping of her feet echoing off the corridor tiles.

            She burst into a relieved smile when she saw the girl's bathroom – just an unoccupied single-room toilet – and hurriedly entered. She locked the door, and started fumbling with her thick belt, silently resenting the fact that she chose such a complicated one to wear.

With her belt off, she teased down her skirt, careful not to let it fall to the floor – it was expensive, after all-, and pulled down her black thin-stretched nylon tights.

            Bent over, one hand by her knees holding the top of her skirt, she reached up for her panties when-

            There was a loud knocking at the door.

            “Sorry, Miss Raid, are you in there?” A female voice.

            “Y-Yes?!” Melody's startled voice was a panicked squeak.

            “The audition's about to start, we need you to be backstage upstairs as soon as possible!”

            “A-Ahhh...”

She held back any 'but's : an idol-in-training wasn't about to complain about not being able to use the toilet. She couldn't be late for this.

            “Got it!” Hurriedly pulling her tights back up, she replied dutifully and unlocked the door as soon as her belt was halfway back on.

 

            “You had me worried for a moment,” Nicolo met her backstage. “Where were you, Melody?”

            “D-Don't ask me questions like that.” She frowned, but on her youthful face it became a cute pout. Looking away, she narrowed her eyes as she ran a hand over her abdomen – having been so close and cut off at the last moment, her body felt cheated of relief and was squeezing tighter on the store of liquid inside her. Back when she was younger, before dreams of being an idol had built up her feminine modesty, this was the point at which she'd have found a secluded spot outdoors to squat down and relieve herself in secret. Of course, nobody had to know that, and she definitely wasn't considering that now.

            Beyond the curtains, she could hear the excited talking of the crowd – roughly two hundred people – that suddenly went silent as the main judge stepped up to the stage.

 

            “Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Glass Pegasus productions, I am proud to welcome you all to our national amateur idol selection! The biggest female rookie event of the year, we'll be watching twelve handpicked potential idols, and choosing the most promising trio to advance and be accepted as the newest rising stars in the world of entertainment!” A small applause as the judge deftly spun the microphone in his hand – a small callback to his own days as an idol trainer.

“Now, for the candidates! First off, a name I'm sure most of you know, the small sensation known as the Cherry Bolt Princess! Our first contestant is Melody Raid!”

            Melody jumped as she realized she was being called first.

She looked over to Nicolo, who she barely managed to make out in the dark of the backstage area, but she could see his silhouette nod as he placed his hand on her back and gave her a gentle push.

 

Melody stepped on stage.

Everything was for this moment.

 

The crowd cheered with applause as she skipped into view, the edges of her vision temporarily whitewashed in a blinding glow by the spotlights as she smiled outwards to the shadowed faces of the audience. This was it. The familiar thrill of standing on stage rushed up her like electricity, a raw, untapped source of power that filled her entire body with the energy to accomplish anything.

            “Hey, everyone!” She grasped the microphone and waved excitedly. “I'm really grateful to everyone who came over to watch me here! I hope you’re ready, since I'm going to give you all a show so great that it'll make this day worth your while-!!”

 

~~~~~

 

Melody moved to her seat as the remaining eleven contestants came on one by one. Recognizing half of them herself, she applauded all of them in turn as they made their introductions.

Without further ado, after a short explanation from the judges, they launched straight into the first round, starting with Melody. The order was chosen by lottery, but she was glad she could go first, meaning she could dance with minimal chance of her bathroom-related needs causing any problems.

            Melody was calm as she walked to the center of the stage once again.

“The song I'm performing is Passionfruit!” She declared, one hand pointed to the ceiling, “Let's go!”

 

             Idols were pure, and graceful, and immaculate.

In a sense, they were viewed as something beyond human. Something the ordinary could only strive for but never reach. Idols were those who lived their lives fuller than any other, and accomplished the impossible.

            Watching an idol dance was something else.

Melody, of course, wasn't yet a proper idol, and her movements were lacking in the refinement that they gained from years of professional training, but in terms of the sheer spirit of it – the pure, emotional energy that shone around her like an invisible blazing torch – there was nothing in her dancing that Melody lacked.

            It was like the music flowed through her – as if her body, light as a feather, rode atop the unseen currents of the song as they spiraled around the stage in tiny pristine hurricanes, and every note sparked with life when it touched her skin. She flew with the rhythm so swiftly that sometimes you doubted if her feet touched the ground, even forgetting that there was a stage and simply imagining a neon vista where nothing but the music and the idol at its core needed to exist. There was a ferocious vitality in her, as if that specific song had been carved into her heart and it was the one song she was meant to live, as if Melody had become the melody herself, every movement so natural that you it was like watching something unquestionable unfold. Nicolo smiled as he watched – the Cherry Bolt Princess was in top form.

            When the music ended, and Melody finally stood still, holding her final pose, shivering slightly from the tension, the audience burst into applause. Applause wasn't anything new to Melody. She'd performed on stage before, and been praised with commendation like this before, too.

It wasn't anything new, but all the same, it felt good.

Melody's face shone with a wide, brilliant smile as she waved again and returned to her seat.

She was feeling good. She could win this.

Everything was going to go fine.

 

Of course, Melody was very good at dancing, but that didn't mean the other contestants were bad in any way. Melody Raid wasn't the only girl who could channel her heart out when she danced, and one or two of the girls had a better technical command of certain aspects that might have arguably ranked them higher than she did on some scales. Melody's own biased opinion was that her routine was the best, but the following performances were still impressive.

            After the fifth dance or so, a pressing reminder of another problem jolted Melody back to attention.

The songs were roughly four minutes each, and there was a two or three minute gap between each one. Seven minutes per contestant meant she'd already been sitting down for over half an hour, and had almost an hour to go. And that was just the first round.

Melody tightly gripped the edges of the plastic chair.

As the next song began, she switched to tapping one of her feet.

Both her legs started shaking.

By the ninth song, she'd resorted to crossing her legs tightly, squeezing them together to try and fight down the urge whenever it grew.

Carefully keeping an eye on the audience, she moved her right arm to block the view of her lap so she could reach down and press softly atop her skirt with her palm.

 

            Needless to say, this was more than embarrassing, and her one saving grace was that the audience couldn't see the blush on her face due to the stage lighting.

Melody Raid, in an idol audition in front of prominent talent agency figures and an audience of over two hundred, really, really needed the bathroom.

She could feel herself slowly filling up, a liquid pressure pushing up against the exit, and felt specifically aware of each layer of clothes wrapped round to keep it in.

Her expensive red skirt that she got for her last birthday. Her new nylon tights, hugging her legs all the way up to her waist. Her rose-pink panties, soft cotton and stretched over her most private area as a girl, the main thing holding back the developing flow inside her.

            Idols didn't need the bathroom. Idols didn't need the bathroom. She was going to be a perfect girl, a beacon of stardom, so she shouldn't let this affect her, shouldn’t let it show, and she definitely shouldn't let a single drop of it escape before she was somewhere proper and private with a locked door and nobody else knew where she was.

 

            Finally, after the twelfth performance and a short break where the judges finalized details amongst themselves, the second round began, and with it, the worst piece of news yet:

            To make things fair, the order of performance was now reversed from the first round.

 

Melody's eyes went wide as a quiet look of despair settled on her face.

She wasn't even sure how she was going to manage her performance as she was, let alone after waiting for eleven girls to go first.

She wanted to cry out, or collapse, or jump up and dash off stage to a toilet, but she knew that for the sake of her idol career, and Nicolo's career too, she couldn't. She absolutely had to hold it in, and perform to her best.

            Everything was for this moment.

 

The next few performances passed in a silent agony, Melody too absorbed in her own desperation to even register the efforts of her opponents.

The audience could always be watching her, so she couldn't do anything too overt, and she sat as still as she could, legs crossed and bent over slightly. When the music was playing, there was enough space between the waiting competitors for her to let her voice escape, and nobody heard her as she let out her heavy panting or occasional panicked whine.

            “Nnnnn.... haaaahhh... no...!”

What Melody wanted more than almost anything else at that moment was some sort of permission or opportunity to answer her natural call. However, her ultimate desire was still becoming an idol, and so that took precedence over her body's needs, however urgent they were.

            But still. She thought. She wondered if she could stand up – as a girl, she sat down to use the toilet, and the mental association was getting stronger and stronger as she wriggled in her plastic chair. She looked around, eyes slightly glazed, trying to take her mind off it.

            For a moment, one terrible, dire moment, she let her guard down, and in the split second after she realized it was starting to come out, she jolted up and jammed her hand between her legs, clutching desperately through her tights as she felt a hot spurt escape and soak into her panties. She hastily looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but it was too dark to tell.

            She needed to go incredibly badly. She didn’t realize it would get this bad. Why did she drink so much that morning? Why did she drink all that iced mocha? This was an aspect of being an idol that she had taken far too lightly – when she watched them on stage, she never thought about when they used the bathroom, or how much they might need it, or what kind of distress the angels on stage might have been hiding behind their smiles.

           

            Finally, the judges called her name, and she weakly saw that it was her turn.

There was no way she could do this. No way she could do the dance routine she'd practiced without losing control. But this was her one chance. Her chance to become an idol, like she'd always dreamed. If she let this slip by, just because she needed the bathroom, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

            Melody clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and stood up from her chair, almost buckling over, knees shaking, and quickly walked to center stage for the final time that day. She shakily attached the microphone clip to her collar, and looked up to face the audience.

            “Well, ummm. T-There's not much left for me to say right now. Whatever I want to say, I'll say... through my song.” As she faced the audience, she squeezed her muscles tight against the convulsions, keeping her smile up flawlessly. “This is something I wrote, with the help of my friend, Nicolo, specially for today. It's called 'Dream of the Cherry Bolt Princess'.

 

            And Melody took a breath,

                        and began singing.

 

This was something she couldn't do in the first round, when the vocals were already provided with the track. It wasn't anything groundbreaking either, since most of the previous competitors sung for their composition pieces, as well. It wasn't a unique gift, or a gimmick, or a trick to win.

            Melody sang beautifully for the sake of singing, as she slowly began to dance.

 

~~~~~

Behind the audience, in the control box with all the wires and switchboards for the lighting, Nicolo frowned as he watched Melody's movements. As her manager, he was the only one who realized she was improvising a lot. She'd toned down all her energetic spins and jumps into something more subdued, slower but more graceful. Somehow, it looked good, but why was she doing it?

~~~~~

 

 

            On stage, behind her incredibly soft and fragile movements, Melody felt like she was slowly dying. She was walking on the edge – no, probably a bit beyond that at this point. Every time she opened her legs to take a step, the urge would intensify, and she felt as if she might wet herself on the spot, but with perfect timing, she always brought the other leg back to clamp her muscles and hold it off. It was based on her original routine, which she knew so well that her body moved to it automatically, and every second as she sang she could focus all her mind on how to hold it in and endure it for just five seconds more, operating on sheer feminine willpower, and her resolve as an idol.

Melody almost felt like holding it in was a matter of life and death. The entire fate of her idol career was balanced on her ability to endure her need, squeezed between her thighs and quaking with every spasm that rocked through her. Her ultimate test as a girl, and as an idol. But she would protect it no matter what.

            She was doing well. She could do it. The power of her dreams was letting her hang on.

She gave herself a silent cheer of triumph as she realized she would be able to survive, and-

 

Squirt.

 

The world stopped in an instant.

Melody completely froze up.

She could feel it. Her body had let her down.

Suddenly, she could feel the stream escaping from her, spreading out in a wave through her panties, and instantly clamped her legs shut.

No, no, no no no noooo---!!

She clenched as hard as she could, feet giving out as she fell to the floor, but she couldn't stop.

Her mind was going completely blank, filled only with a mute disbelief at what was happening.

An incredible mix of relief and embarrassment rushed through her as the fluid she'd tried her hardest to suppress began seeping out across the stage, she could still feel it escaping between her legs, and with it, lost with the moment she lost control, was her dream of being an idol.

She'd tried her best, done everything she could, but in the end, she couldn't hold it back, and the sound of hitting and pattering water was the only thing that reached her ears.

The audience was dead silent.

She'd lost.

Everything was fading into darkness.

 

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, this still works, right?” Nicolo hastily pointed at a blue switch on the control box.

“Should do...” The technician was confused, “But do you really-”

Nicolo smashed his hand into the button.

 

~~~~~

The hissing and splashing continued, even after Melody was overcome with a feeling of emptiness, in many senses of the word. The sounds were haunting her.

She felt cold water droplets hit the back of her head, and her shoulders, and then the rest of her body, and by the time she registered that something strange was going on she was completely soaked through in seconds.

The sound of rain echoed around her, like hundreds of trampling feet, at a stadium, or at a riot.

It was raining.

Raining indoors...?

But there was no other way to describe what was going on.

 

Melody didn't fully understand at the time, but the stage had a rain curtain installed for past performances, and Nicolo, after catching onto the situation with a sudden gasp and running through a thousand possible ideas in his head, activated it to cover for her. And not just that. Just before she collapsed, he activated the smoke machines, and dimmed the lights, so nobody, not even the judges on stage, would be able to tell exactly what was going on.

 

Nicolo resumed the music he paused, bringing Melody back to her senses.

She didn’t fully understand everything, but she knew exactly who was the one man she owed her entire career to.

Though really, now that she thought about it, that was no different from how it always was.

She breathed out. Slowly, dramatically, soaking wet, as if she'd planned it all along, Melody rose back up amongst the smoke and rain, looked up at the audience, and flawlessly continued singing, a genuine, idyllic smile on her face.

 

Somehow, everything might have turned out all right.

 

~~~~~

 

Melody's improvised performance didn't score as highly as her rehearsed one would have, but the judges were impressed by her versatility, and strongly commended her for that all the same. Nobody realized the full extent of Melody's predicament, except for Nicolo, and maybe one or two others who had been dedicated enough to watch her even as she sat on the sidelines, and those few were loyal enough to keep the secret to themselves.

Melody secured a safe second place in the competition, which wasn't perfect, but seeing how Glass Pegasus hired the top three candidates, she wasn't going to complain.

She began her career as an idol, with Nicolo her trusted agent, and the both of them are still working hard to this day.

 

Nowadays, most people know the name 'Cherry Bolt Princess', the fiery idol whose rise to fame started with Glass Pegasus' annual live audition, and continued to shoot up from then on. Videos of her official debut event exist, floating around here and there, but Melody vehemently steers the conversation off that course if they are ever mentioned in her presence. The only person who she had ever given permission to own a copy to was her manager, Nicolo Gearman.

 

The secrets of an idol are precious, after all, and Melody had many things in her life to treasure.

 

 

 

 

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Extra notes:

'Melody Raid' is an anagram of 'Dreamy Idol'

'Colo Gearman' is an anagram of 'Cool Manager'

hahahaha

Now we finally know what I drew this picture for

[vexer6 56]

Excellent story, loved the twist with the rain at the end.

[Strawbearie 203]

After bingewatching Cinderella Girls, I was hoping for an idol story somewhere on here. Not only did I find one, I found an AMAZING one. Bravo, mate. This needs more attention!!