Gangster to Idol

Evelyn smiled, but there was no comfort in it. "Yes, next week. And your task will be . . . who can perform 'Electric Heartbeat' the best — singing and dancing."

The room buzzed with energy as the trainees exchanged glances, eyes widening at the mention of the song.

Cain raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the song title flashing across the screen. "Electric Heartbeat?" he muttered, trying to recall if he'd ever heard it before.

Fifi floated nearby. "You really should broaden your playlist, Cain," she quipped, her tiny arms crossing over her chest. "I swear, you're stuck in the stone age."

Cain shot her a side-eye. "I'll manage. It's just another song."

"Trust me, this one's more than just another song," Fifi said with a knowing grin. "Better get ready to sweat."

"Electric Heartbeat?" Leo whispered, excitement and dread battling in his voice. "That's no joke. It's a monster track."

Riku swallowed hard, his nerves already fraying at the thought of matching the song's intensity with a dance move. "This is gonna be rough . . ."

Evelyn's voice cut through the murmurs. "We'll be looking for perfect synchronization, powerful vocals, and — most importantly — whether you can capture the electric energy of the song. This isn't just about hitting the notes or nailing the moves. It's about commanding the stage."

"Guess we'll see who's really got what it takes, then," Damien said with a cocky grin, standing among the group of trainees, who range from 20 to 30 points.

The tension in the room thickened, as every trainee's competitive spirit flared up. Each one was eager to prove they were the best. Eyes darted around, sizing each other up, as if this was already part of the battle.

Cain, however, wasn't feeling the same level of confidence. His vocals had never been his strong point. How well could he really do against some of these powerhouse voices?

He welcomed the challenge nonetheless. This was his ticket to becoming an idol and he wasn't about to let it pass.

Evelyn's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere. "Alright, listen up." She strode forward, her presence commanding the room. "I'm going to perform Electric Heartbeat once. Pay close attention. After that, it's your turn to show me what you've got."

She paused, locking eyes with each trainee as if daring them to slip up. "I'll be breaking down your mistakes and helping you sharpen your vocals, so you better focus. This isn't just about hitting notes — it's about owning the stage. Don't waste this chance."

The soft hum of the intro played, a pulsing synth beat that steadily built into a vibrant melody. As soon as the first note hit, Evelyn's voice sliced through the air with razor-sharp precision. Her tone was smooth yet powerful, perfectly riding the rhythm. She moved effortlessly with the beat, each note clear and intentional, her vocal control making the complex shifts seem easy.

The trainees watched in awe as she flawlessly navigated the fast-paced chorus. Her voice danced around the beat, maintaining energy without breaking her breath. It wasn't just about hitting the right notes — she embodied the song, giving it life. Every word had purpose, every breath calculated.

"Damn, she's good," Riku whispered, his eyes wide as he followed her performance.

Leo nodded, equally impressed. "She makes it look so easy. How are we supposed to compete with that?"

Cain frowned, arms crossed. He wasn't used to songs like this — he'd excelled in other genres, but pop? He could feel the pressure mount.

The beat picked up again, launching into the bridge, where Evelyn pushed her voice to a higher range without breaking a sweat. The high-energy climax had the room buzzing. It was clear why Electric Heartbeat was a staple of idol pop — fast-paced, high notes, and relentless energy.

"Pop's supposed to be the genre we excel at, but . . ." one trainee murmured, ". . . how is she doing that?"

"She's just on another level," another added, shaking their head in disbelief.

As the song ended, Evelyn's voice trailed off effortlessly, leaving the room in silence for a moment before the melody faded out. The trainees exchanged uneasy glances. The song was harder than it seemed.

Evelyn might be past her prime for an idol's spotlight, but there was no denying the powerhouse vocals that still defined her career.

Experience had sharpened her foundation in singing to near perfection, and every note she hit was a reminder that skill never fades. Her voice carried weight, rich with technique, and though the industry had moved on to younger stars, Evelyn's presence alone commanded respect.

"Now, who's ready to take their shot?" Evelyn asked, her piercing gaze scanning the room, daring them to step up.

Damien was the first to raise his hand, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. Among the boy groups from the big agencies, he'd ranked the lowest points of 30, stuck in the intermediate section. It infuriated him — he knew he was better, stronger than the scores reflected. He was determined to prove it now.

As he stepped forward, the room fell silent. All eyes were on him, and the pressure mounted. Damien took a deep breath and began to sing Electric Heartbeat. His voice was powerful, filled with emotion, but there was an edge of tension — a need to be perfect that made his performance feel just slightly forced.

Evelyn listened intently, her sharp gaze never leaving him. When he finished, she offered a nod of acknowledgment before speaking.

"You've got a strong voice, Damien," she said, her tone even, "but you're pushing too hard. There's a rawness to your delivery that works in some genres, but for a song like this, you need more control. Relax into the melody. Let the music guide you, not the other way around. You don't have to prove anything in one note — trust in your ability and let it flow naturally."

Damien clenched his fists, but nodded, taking the critique in stride.

One by one, the other trainees stepped forward to take their turn. Each performance revealed something different — some excelled in technical precision, others faltered under the pressure, their voices cracking or losing breath control. Evelyn gave feedback to each, her critiques on point but never harsh.

"You're hitting the notes, but where's the emotion? We need to feel the song, not just hear it," she told one trainee.

"To improve, work on your transitions. You've got the right energy, but the shifts between your registers are too abrupt," she advised another.

As the trainees sang, it became clear that pop wasn't as easy as it seemed. What looked simple on the surface required balance, control, and the ability to tell a story through music. Evelyn's expertise shone as she guided them, each critique pushing them closer to the level they needed to reach.