“Miss Morton, Lillian.”

Candace couldn’t hide the anxiety written all over her face. In stark contrast, Fitch lounged nearby, radiating indifference, one leg bouncing restlessly as if he couldn’t be bothered to stand up straight.

“If you keep shaking that leg, I don’t mind snapping it for you–and don’t worry, I’ll have it put back in place after we finish talking.”

Alessia’s words, delivered with a breezy smile that hovered between amusement and warning, made Fitch swallow hard. He awkwardly rubbed his nose and, without thinking, stopped jiggling his leg.

“Sit down.” Alessia tilted her chin, the gesture casual but somehow brooking no argument. Fitch looked like he wanted to protest, but Candace tugged on his sleeve.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance but sat anyway.

“You said you only want Moon’s compositions, nothing else, right?”

“Of course! No one but Moon is worthy of collaborating with me!” Fitch threw his hands behind his head, tipping his chair back with an air of cocky nonchalance, as if no one else in the room mattered.

Across from him, Tristan stretched out his long legs–almost absentmindedly–until his foot bumped into Fitch’s.

immediately lost

he lurched for the edge of the table. The table screeched as he yanked it, drawing

hint of remorse in his tone. Fitch shot him a glare, gritting his

his debut originally scheduled

month.”

has

1/2

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a month,” Candace replied, her voice

training and pass their evaluations before debuting? Or is he an experienced artist with notable achievements I’m unaware

hadn’t expected Candace to be so bold as to abuse her authority and push Fitch’s

trained for about a month, and he

after college, didn’t you?” Alessia’s fingers tapped the tabletop, each

casting a desperate glance at Lillian for

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