The contest stage looked different when the stage were filled. Bright lights bore down on the contestants, binding, unforgiving. The audience murmured and laughed, their energy sharp enough to slice through nerves. Cameras hovered like predators, waiting to catch mistakes.
Backstage, Amina clutched her microphone, palms slick with sweat. Her numwas pinned crookedly to her dress. She could hear the other contestants warming up —smooth, trained voices filling the hall with confidence.
Then came Vanessa.
She glided past Amina in a gown of glittering silver, every step dripping with poise. Her lips curled into a smile sharp enough to wound. "Try not to embarrass yourself out there, little stray," she whispered before stepping onto the stage.
The crowd erupted the moment Vanessa began. Her voice was flawless —each note rising effortlessly, filling the hall with power and polish. Cameras flashed, judges nodded, and the audience cheered as if they had already crowned their winner.
When her performance ended, Vanessa bowed with elegance, smirking in Amina's direction as the applause thundered.
Then it was Amina's turn.
Her legs felt heavy as she walked to the center of the stage. The spotlight blinded in her, and for a moment, she froze. Whispers trickled through the crowd:
"Who's she?"
"She looks nervous already."
"Another nobody."
Her throat tightened. She gripped the mic with both hands, staring into the darkness beyond the light. Her first note cracked. A few people laughed.
'Breathe. Think of Mama. Think of Zainab. Think of the notebook.'
She closed her eyes, shutting out the crowd. She sang—not for the judges, not for Vanessa, but for the people who needed her voice the most.
And slowly, the hall grew quiet.
Her voice wasn't perfect, but it carried weight. Every note was heavy with truth —pain, hope, survival. By the time she reached the final line, a hush had fallen across the audience.
Silence.
Then, scattered applause. A few people clapped cautiously, others murmured in surprise. I wasn't thunder like Vanessa's but it was real.
From the judges' table, Adrian's eyes never left her. His expression remained unreadable, but his fingers tapped once on the table —sharp, deliberate.
Backstage, Vanessa's smirk faltered.
Amina bowed quickly, rushing offstage, heart pounding. She hadn't outshine Vanessa, not yet. But she hadn't broken either.
For the first time, she realized: she 'belonged' on that stage..