Now that was interesting.
Only a handful of people even had access to that information Vivian had only gotten it by leveraging Nathaniel’s name to force the issue.
Strictly need-to-know.
The general staff only knew Serena’s injuries had been bad enough to keep her bedridden.
The mystery contestant was one of Jonathan Foster’s projects and while Jonathan was only the third Foster son, the Foster family carried real weight.
Jonathan himself ran Foster Entertainment, a division of Foster Group, consistently ranked among the top three entertainment conglomerates in Ashford City.
He wasn’t married, hadn’t gone public with anyone.
The only thing he was known to fuss over personally like this was his pet bird.
Nathaniel didn’t confirm or dispute Vivian’s read on the situation.
He had zero interest in Jonathan Foster’s business but something about that retreating figure backstage had snagged his attention, for reasons he couldn’t quite name.
That was as far as the thought went, though.
…
Backstage in the dressing area.
Eliana had already finished her final walkthrough with the crew.
The backstage bustled with movement.
Jonathan had already peeled off to handle other business as CEO of Foster Entertainment, he couldn’t hover over her the entire evening but he’d made sure to bring along a dedicated assistant first.
Ivy Sanders was sharp, capable, and easy to like, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose as she worked through Eliana’s schedule.
She murmured to herself while checking her notes.
“…Stage confirmed, slot confirmed Serena, you’re performer number three.”
Eliana nodded.
Right then, she felt eyes on her.
She looked up, frowning slightly, to find Vivian watching her from across the room.
Vivian caught the glance and smiled, giving a small nod.
Eliana returned nothing but a strange, unreadable look before turning away.
Ivy leaned in and dropped her voice.
“Serena Mr.
Foster wanted me to tell you Vivian’s got a serious team behind her.
Not affiliated with Cole Group at all, every appearance, every public statement, it’s all engineered by that team.”
“Unless it’s necessary, best to avoid a direct clash with her.”
Meaning: if it is necessary, go ahead.
Eliana looked away and nodded to show she understood.
Across the room, Vivian’s smile vanished the instant she turned her back.
Some unknown understudy, acting that untouchable?
The nerve.
But
A calculating glint crossed her eyes.
That unknown quantity could still be useful to her, one way or another.
…
The live broadcast started shortly after.
It opened with introductions and performances from the three judges.
The first two were established names in the industry, sharp and charming through their introductions, with performances that landed well.
Last up: Vivian.
From the moment she stepped into the light, the entire energy of the room shifted.
Under the spotlight, in a flowing white gown, she looked almost ethereal, fragile in a way that read as devastating on camera.
“Hello, everyone.
I’m Vivian Blake, a florist, first and foremost.
I’m genuinely thrilled to be standing on this stage with all of you tonight.”
“I’m sure some of you are wondering why someone whose actual career is floral design is up here at all.”
“A lot of people assume I’m only doing this for exposure.
And I want to say, plainly”
“You’re right.
I am.”
She smiled, disarmingly honest, bold.
She looked straight into the camera and delivered the next part slowly, deliberately.
“I want as many people as possible to see me.
To watch me try something new, live a little differently than expected.
I want people to know that even when life looks hopeless, it can still be beautiful.”
That fragile, radiant smile, paired with those words, landed exactly as intended, genuinely moving, tears-in-your-eyes moving.
Backstage in her private dressing room, Eliana leaned back in her chair, pushing through her own physical discomfort, watching Vivian’s speech with total composure.
What exactly did Nathaniel see in her?
Was it this drive, the performance of resilience?
Or was there something in Vivian that genuinely echoed who Nathaniel used to be, once, in his own darker years?
Sometimes people feel real tenderness for someone who mirrors their own vulnerable past.
That kind of compassion isn’t always really about the other person at all, sometimes it’s grief for who you used to be.
And in men, that kind of sympathy tends to bleed easily into something that looks a lot like love.
“Up next, I’ll be performing my original piece, ‘Micro Love.’ This song is my way of processing everything I’ve been through these past few days, and I hope it gives strength to anyone else fighting through something similarly painful.”
Vivian bowed deeply.
The stage lights dropped to black.
Eliana raised an eyebrow.
Micro Love?
She’d originally titled that piece “Faint Light.”
The whole song was built around looking past the darkness toward what came next dawn breaking, however small.
That glimmer was the entire point of the piece.
Well.
Change the title if she wanted; the licensing agreement allowed for that.
The real question was whether N.
and Foster Entertainment would get proper credit once the track actually dropped.
The Voice of Heaven backstage was split into two zones.
One was a large communal lounge, open for contestants and judges to mingle.
The other was individual dressing rooms, one per contestant and judge.
Since most viewers didn’t have time to sit through a full live broadcast, the footage would later be edited down into highlight reels for streaming footage that needed reaction shots from contestants and judges woven in.
So both the communal lounge and the private rooms were rigged with monitors and recording equipment for exactly that purpose.
None of it aired live just material gathered for the edited cut later, per the production team’s plan.
The actual dressing rooms themselves stayed off-limits to filming, barring a private, separately arranged recording.
Right now, Eliana sat in her private room, Ivy beside her.
A large screen on the wall streamed the live broadcast, Vivian’s performance, unfolding in real time.
Comments scrolled past in a dense, rapid-fire wall of text.
“Oh my god, this is gorgeous.
Just the intro alone and I’m already gone.”
“I nearly lost it.
That 25-second preview clip already had me crying, and now I’m completely done.”
“I’m so emotional right now I don’t even know which ex to be sad about, lol.”
“Line me up too, please.”
“Waiting in line for a boyfriend over here!”
“Add me to the list, I’ll take two.”
…
“So many videos have used that 25-second clip this week I thought I’d be sick of it by now.
Nope.
Still crying.”
“Eliana, are you watching this right now?
Do everyone a favor and just step aside already!”
“Like they say Eliana’s whole 25 years doesn’t touch Vivian’s 25 seconds.”
…
While the internet buzzed on, Eliana picked up her phone backstage and quietly opened a few streaming platforms.
Vivian had announced the song would drop simultaneously across every major platform, easy enough to check whether the credits were correct.
She didn’t even have to search for it.
The second she opened the app, the track was already front and center on the splash screen, paired with a professionally shot photo of Vivian.
She tapped in, and there it was.
Love in the Clouds
Artist: Vivian Blake
Lyrics: Vivian Blake
Composition: Vivian Blake