<h4>Chapter 184: Chapter 185 Rescore</h4>
A woman seated next to Octavia leaned forward.
‘Miss Vance makes a solid point. If the result’s disputed, let the people decide. I’d have given her a ten myself. It’s stunning work.’
She looked right at me.
I held her gaze and nodded once.
The chat went wild again.
[Who is that woman? She’s making sense.]
[Is she a judge too?]
[Someone drop her name, she’s hot]
[That’s Rowan Hale! My idol! Did she juste back from overseas?]
Dr Dubois was sweating through her blouse.
Literal sweat.
It soaked the edge of her cor and glistened above her lip.
She got up from her seat, approached me, then spoke in a low whisper.
‘If you stop this now, I’ll rescore your submission. A better score. Just... don’t escte it.’
‘No. I’m not the one who started this. You did.’ I raised the mic. ‘And we still haven’t talked about what you pulled backstage. You tried to smear me, so let’s hear it. Go on. Tell them what happened behind that curtain.’
Someone shouted from the audience, ‘Backstage drama? Tell us!’
Another yelled, ‘She got paid off for sure!’
Dubois looked like she wanted to bolt or faint or both.
She covered my mic with one hand.
‘You need to think very carefully. This isn’t just some local talent show. This is the top designpetition in the country. We’re backed by the National Guild. If you n to keep working, you need to stop stirring the pot.’
‘You’re threatening me.’
‘Yes. I am.’ Her nostrils red. ‘You’ll never work again if you don’t shut up and cooperate—’
I lifted the other mic I’d been holding behind my back to her mouth mid-sentence.
‘Sorry, you’re mumbling. Could you repeat that into the mic?’
Her threat sted through every speaker in the room.
I watched her jaw stutter, and for a split second, I thought she might bite her own tongue off.
‘Did everyone catch that? She just said she’d cklist me.’
The audience didn’t hesitate.
‘We heard it!’
‘Lunatic!’
‘She thinks she runs the whole damn industry?’
‘She should cklist herself first!’
Dubois stood rigid beside me, fists clenched so tight her knuckles whitened.
A long, suffocating momentter, she turned and stormed offstage, nearly tripping over a power cable.
But she didn’t get to disappear just because she wanted to.
I saw a man block her way.
They exchanged words in a tense undertone.
Then the man walked onto the stage.
He gave me a smile that was weirdly ingratiating before he turned to face the audience.
‘Hello, everyone. I’m Tristan Hadley, the executive director of thispetition. We’ve confirmed that Dr Aliénor Dubois epted a bribe and deliberately sabotaged the scoring process. The results werepromised. We’ve contacted the police. She’ll be investigated, along with whoever put her up to it.’
Gasps and muttering rippled through the room.
Dubois looked like someone had yanked the floor out from under her.
Her knees gave slightly, and she grabbed the edge of a speaker to stay upright.
She didn’t even have time to form a denial before two officers entered from the back aisle.
They moved straight to her, snapped cuffs on her wrists, and marched her out with no ceremony.
The room buzzed with whispers.
Some phones were still raised, still filming.
I nced at Tristan.
I was pretty sure I’d never seen him before.
I turned, scanning the audience until I spotted Ashton.
When our eyes met, he gave me a smile and nodded.
The noise faded enough for Tristan to gesture towards the crew.
The screen behind me blinked, then lit up with my original design.
Tristan cleared his throat.
‘This design also belongs to Miss Vance. Because of Dr Dubois’ interference, she was forced to submit two drafts under ridiculous time constraints. Even so, both entries wereplete and technically wless. It’s obvious she’s working at a level far beyond what we expected from thispetition.’
The audience pped. Loudly.
He kept going.
‘If she’d had the time she deserved, the results would’ve been even stronger. It would’ve been a shame if this set had been buried.’
The apuse picked up again.
‘There’s an old saying about a single rotten apple spoiling the bunch. That’s what Dr Dubois did to this event. But I hope everyone understands her actions don’t reflect thepetition as a whole.’
He turned to the judges.
‘We’re going to rescore Miss Vance’s entries. I expect fairness this time.’
That got thements moving again.
[That’s more like it.]
[No need to score. Just hand @MVanceJewels the damn trophy.]
[Give her both first and second ce. Those designs crushed the rest.]
[Stop wasting time. Announce it.]
Tristan stepped aside, gave the crew a signal, and the judging resumed.
‘Will youe with me, miss?’ he sidled up to me and whispered.
He pointed downstage.
Ashton’s seat was empty.
I followed the man backstage.
Ashton was waiting there.
Tristan approached. ‘Mr Laurent, just checking if the arrangement’s to your satisfaction?’
Ashton stared at the giant screen for another three seconds before he spoke. ‘When’s the award being announced?’
Tristan hesitated. ‘The judges are scoring live now. After that, there’s a closed session where they’ll finalise the rankings. It’s a weighted system. Two phases of scoringbined for the final result—’
‘So the answer is no,’ Ashton cut in. ‘We’re not getting a result tonight.’
‘Normally, no. We release the final rankings online within three business days. That’s always been the practice.’
‘This is tedious. The event’s already a mess. I want the result tonight.’
‘Right—yes—I understand, but...’ Tristan swallowed. ‘It’s a long-standing protocol. We’ve never announced a winner on the same day—’
‘Kian Al-Ahmad said this was under my authority. If I want the process changed, are you nning to stop me?’
‘Absolutely not!’ Tristan backed up half a step, waving his hands quickly. ‘Not at all. I’ll inform themittee now. We’ll announce the result immediately.’
He didn’t wait for a reply.
He turned and disappeared.
Seven minutester, the host returned to the mic.