Cherreads

Chapter 64 - Originals (pt.2)

And so, the livestream began.

The screen flickered to life, and the familiar colosseum stage appeared—bathed in warm lights, cameras gliding smoothly like predators circling their prey.

Then Cat stepped into frame.

Looking.

Absolutely.

Stunning.

She wore confidence like couture, glowing as if the lights were designed specifically for her existence. The trainees immediately erupted into cheers, whistles, and applause, their nerves momentarily forgotten.

The live chat? Completely lost its damn mind.

@Kass: OMG Cat why are you so PRETTY 😍

@Gilgamesh: That is WIFE right there, your honor.

Cat laughed, waving as she took center stage.

"Hello, trainees!" she greeted warmly, then turned to the camera. "And hello to our beloved viewers watching from all across the globe!"

Cheers thundered through the colosseum. Emojis flooded the chat so fast it looked like digital confetti exploding across the screen.

"Thank you all for joining us on such short notice," Cat continued, eyes twinkling. "But today… we have something very special in store."

She gave the camera a knowing wink.

The trainees groaned, laughed, and nervously shifted on their feet.

"But before anything else," Cat said, clapping her hands together, "please help me welcome the people who made LEAVEN possible. Please welcome—Tuesday, Luca, and our top boss, Focaccia!"

The stage doors opened.

And the noise that followed was deafening.

The trainees gave a standing ovation, while the live chat surged so fast it threatened to crash the stream entirely.

Foca entered calmly, Tuesday and Luca flanking him on either side. The three of them looked effortlessly stunning in coordinated vintage-inspired fits—clean silhouettes, muted tones, understated elegance.

They didn't need flash.

They were the moment.

@HollyMilan: THE FASHION IS FASHIONING 😭 Vintage chic royalty!!! ❤️❤️❤️

"Hello, trainees," Foca greeted softly, his voice instantly grounding. Then he turned to the camera. "And hello to everyone tuning in right now."

The cheers slowly settled.

Tuesday stepped forward, her expression sincere.

"Foca, Luca, and I would like to express our deepest gratitude to everyone who has supported and still supports LEAVEN," she said. "But most of all, thank you for the overwhelming and unwavering love you've shown our trainees. Your support means more to them than you'll ever know."

A few trainees blinked rapidly, swallowing emotion.

"And speaking of reaching dreams," Luca cut in smoothly, "we'd like to announce a few changes within the program."

A collective gulp rippled through the trainees.

"From the very beginning," Luca continued, "LEAVEN hasn't followed a rigid structure—mostly because we do whatever our big boss feels like."

He gestured at Foca with a grin.

The trainees laughed, and even Foca shook his head, smiling fondly.

"So," Luca said, tone sharpening, "changes are inevitable. And with that being said—those changes start today."

Nervous murmurs filled the space.

Then Foca stepped forward.

Silence fell instantly.

"The first change," Foca announced evenly, "is that for your third month in LEAVEN, there will only be one evaluation. The fifth evaluation will take place at the end of the month."

A few trainees visibly relaxed. Shoulders dropped. Breaths were released.

But Foca wasn't done.

"That is because," he continued, lips curling into a faint smirk, "you will all be taking on your biggest challenge yet."

A pause.

"Originals."

The shockwave was immediate.

"What?!"

"Oh my god."

"No way."

"Originals?!" one trainee whispered, horrified. "I can't even write an essay…"

"This challenge was made for Bobby," another muttered enviously, glancing at him.

Seeing the sheer panic brewing, Foca lifted a hand.

"Do not worry," he said calmly. "You will not be starting from scratch. We will be providing you with original songs, specially created for LEAVEN."

Instant relief.

Cheers broke out.

"Would you like to hear them?" Foca asked.

The trainees nodded so hard it bordered on whiplash. Even the viewers spammed YES in the chat.

The music began.

One by one, the original tracks played through the speakers—each distinct, polished, and powerful. The trainees bounced, vibed, gasped, and clutched each other in disbelief.

Luca's eyes widened at a particular track.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

Foca noticed, leaned toward him, winked, and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Oh ho ho ho," Luca muttered under his breath, practically vibrating. "This is gonna be fun."

The chat exploded.

@Hyouka_Icecream: These sounds RADIO READY already!!!

@Suke: Chart toppers. I'm calling it now.

@MileyCircus: WHO wrote these?! WHO PRODUCED THEM?! GENIUS BEHAVIOR.

When the previews ended, Tuesday stepped forward again.

"This evaluation is gonna be different," she said. "Whether you're performing solo or in a group—it's already been decided by us three."

She pointed at herself, Luca, and Foca.

"And for those in groups," she added sweetly, "your teammates are also decided."

Gasps. Whispers. Panic.

"How you perform the song," Tuesday continued, "is completely up to you. Concept, choreography, parts—down to the tiniest detail."

She smiled knowingly.

"All you have to do is work your asses off and give us your best."

Luca stepped in, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Because," he said, pausing dramatically, "you'll be performing these… in front of a live audience."

"What?!!!"

"Oh no—"

Luca quickly raised his hands. "Relax. The audience won't have any power over the evaluation. They're there to support you."

He turned to the camera.

"And to our viewers—if you want a chance to watch these trainees live, head over to Bread Music's website. Five hundred lucky fans will receive an all-expenses-paid trip to the island. Three days. Two nights."

The chat combusted.

@Hyouka_Icecream: PICK ME PLEASE 😭😭😭

@CaliforniaMaki: WHO DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET PICKED?! I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!

Back on stage, the trainees stood frozen—terrified, exhilarated, and very much aware of one thing.

This wasn't just an evaluation anymore.

This was history in the making.

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