Gangster to Idol

"Dancing, apparently. And he's actually pretty good," another replied, sounding more intrigued.

"Another wannabe content creator?" a skeptical voice cut in, laced with a hint of disdain. "They're everywhere around here, hoping someone will notice them and hand them a contract or something."

"I don't care. It's free entertainment," another shrugged, dismissing the scene as just another fleeting spectacle in the crowded park.

But then, recognition sparked in the crowd. "Hey, wait . . . isn't that . .

. that's C.C!"

"Who?" someone else questioned, trying to place the name.

"Wait a minute . . . those dance moves . . .

isn't that Rhythmic Phantom's latest trend? The one where he styles his hair while dancing?" a more informed spectator noted, the realization hitting like a lightning bolt.

"What the . . . he's out here in public, copying another creator's moves? That's so lame, man."

"That's embarrassing," another voice chimed in, the words biting and dismissive.

But Cain didn't falter. As the comments swirled around him, he kept dancing, each movement in rhythm, fluid, and spot on. He incorporated different hairstyles into the routine — running his fingers through his hair, slicking it back, ruffling it up with the help of the Celestial Comb — each change seamlessly woven into the choreography.

It was a deliberate nod to the latest trend, but with every step, Cain made it his own.

The crowd's chatter continued, but the skepticism began to wane as Cain's confidence radiated through every spin and step. His dance became a statement, a bold declaration that he wasn't just copying — he was the original.

One by one, the onlookers fell silent, their earlier criticisms evaporating as they were drawn into the rhythm. The dance that had started with whispers of doubt now held them captive, each movement a hook pulling them deeper into the performance.

Before they knew it, the entire park was spellbound, the air thick with amazement as they watched Cain command the space with an energy that was impossible to ignore. The unrelenting comments faded, replaced by awe and admiration.

Those who had captured the performance on their phones hurried to post it, their earlier insults replaced by excitement. The footage spread like wildfire across social media, and in no time, Cain's routine was lighting up screens everywhere.

By the time he finished, Cain stood at the center of a hushed crowd, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin.

Cain only snapped out of his trance when he heard something like droplets of water falling onto ground.

"Rain?" he murmured, reaching out as if to catch it, but instead of water, he found his hand trembling as he gazed up at the sky. The sun was setting, and dusk had taken over the park, casting everything in shades of gold and deep blue.

It wasn't rain.

Cain's eyes widened in surprise as he realized the thunderous sound he heard wasn't the storm, but applause — loud, relentless, and real. It reverberated through his chest, leaving him momentarily stunned.

He slowly turned, taking in the scene around him. The park was now a sea of raised phones, all pointed at him, recording every second of his performance. Flashing lights from cameras dazzled him, but what truly took his breath away were the expressions on the faces of the crowd.

They weren't just watching — they were smiling, their eyes filled with admiration. The same eyes that had once looked at him with fear, pity, or disdain now reflected something entirely different. Respect. Awe.

For the first time in his life, Cain felt a warmth in his chest that wasn't born from anger or adrenaline. It was something softer, more profound — a blossoming pride that made him feel lighter than air.

A small, genuine smile crept onto Cain's lips, something that had never come naturally to him before.

Perched on top of the fountain, Fifi watched the entire scene unfold, her usual poker face replaced by something much gentler. Her eyes softened as she observed Cain, his transformation undeniable.

"What's this? So you really can do it if you put your mind to it," she murmured to herself. "I guess the universe didn't make a mistake after all. It chose someone who was meant to shine, even if he didn't know it yet."

Fifi glanced up at the night sky, her tiny wings shimmering in the dim light as she beamed with expectation.

"I can't wait to see you grow. To watch you capture more hearts with every performance you give."

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