Pam’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile as her eyes rested on Faith, studying her not with hostility, but with a kind of amusent that only grew the longer she looked. There was no rush in her expression, no sign of tension, only the calm confidence of soone who had already decided how this would play out and saw no reason to hide it.
"So this is the one who wants to compete with ."
Her voice carried lightly across the hall, almost playful, but there was a clear edge beneath it, one that made her words feel heavier than they sounded.
She took a few steps forward, her gaze never leaving Faith, as if the entire room had faded away and only the two of them remained.
"You’re brave, I’ll give you that."
Her tone softened just enough to sound almost encouraging, but the faint curve of her lips made it clear that she did not an it in the way it sounded.
"But bravery and ability aren’t the sa thing."
She tilted her head slightly, as if considering sothing, as if recalling mories that only she could see.
"You heard what I did just now."
There was no arrogance in her voice.
Only certainty.
"And you still think you can match that?"
She let out a quiet breath, then gave a small shake of her head, as if the very idea amused her.
"Do you even understand what it takes to control a lody like that?"
Her eyes softened again, but this ti, there was sothing deeper behind it, sothing that ca from experience rather than emotion.
"I didn’t just wake up one day and decide I could sing like that."
Her voice lowered slightly, becoming more personal, more grounded.
"I spent years refining it."
She took another step forward.
"Competitions."
The word lingered in the air.
"I’ve stood on stages far larger than this, in front of audiences that wouldn’t even bother listening if you didn’t capture them in the first few seconds."
Her gaze sharpened, her presence growing stronger without her needing to raise her voice.
"I’ve faced people who dedicated their entire lives to this, people who trained since childhood, people who thought they were untouchable."
A faint smile returned.
"And I beat them."
There was no hesitation when she said it.
No doubt.
No need to exaggerate.
"I didn’t just win once."
Her voice remained calm, steady.
"I kept winning."
She let the words settle, giving them ti to sink in before she continued.
"Different places. Different judges. Different expectations."
Her chin lifted slightly.
"And every ti, I adjusted."
There was pride there, but not the kind that needed to be loud.
It was the kind that ca from experience, from knowing exactly what she had done and what it ant.
"You think singing is just about having a good voice?"
She shook her head again.
"It’s about control."
Her eyes locked onto Faith’s.
"Understanding when to hold back, when to push, when to let the emotion carry the sound, and when to rein it in before it breaks."
She paused for a mont, then added quietly,
"And that’s sothing you don’t learn overnight."
The silence that followed was not empty.
It was filled with the weight of her words.
And the guards—
They reacted.
Not loudly.
Not with cheers or exaggerated praise.
But with sothing more telling.
Agreent.
One of them stepped forward slightly, clearing his throat before speaking, his voice respectful but firm.
"She’s right."
His eyes moved toward Faith, then back to Pam, as if recalling sothing he had witnessed himself.
"We were there."
Another guard nodded, crossing his arms as he spoke.
"Not just once."
His tone carried a hint of admiration that he did not bother to hide.
"We’ve seen her perform in different places."
A third guard let out a low breath, shaking his head slightly.
"You don’t understand how hard those competitions are."
His gaze settled on Faith, his expression serious.
"It’s not just about singing well."
"It’s about standing there while everyone else is just as good as you."
"Sotis better."
"And still coming out on top."
The first guard spoke again, his voice quieter this ti, but no less certain.
"She didn’t just win because she got lucky."
"She earned it."
Another added,
"Every ti."
Their words overlapped slightly, not chaotic, but layered, each one adding to the sa point, reinforcing what Pam had already said.
"She’s faced judges who don’t care who you are."
"They only care about what they hear."
"And she impressed them."
"Again and again."
One of the older guards, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice carrying a weight that made the others quiet down.
"I’ve seen people break on those stages."
He looked at Pam for a mont before continuing.
"They go in confident."
"They co out... different."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned back to Faith.
"She didn’t break."
"She got stronger."
The room fell quiet again.
Not because there was nothing left to say.
But because everything that needed to be said had already been spoken.
Faith listened.
And for a brief mont—
Her expression tightened.
Not in fear.
But in irritation.
Because she understood what they were doing.
They were building Pam up.
Stacking her achievents, her experience, her victories, one on top of another, until it ford sothing that looked impossible to overco.
As if that alone would be enough to make her step back.
As if that alone would be enough to make her doubt herself.
Her hands clenched slightly at her sides.
Then she took a step forward.
"No."
The word ca out firm, cutting through the lingering silence without hesitation.
Her eyes burned with determination as she looked straight at Pam.
"I’m not stepping back."
Her voice rose slightly, not out of loss of control, but out of conviction.
"You think just because you stood on so stages and won a few competitions, that makes you untouchable?"
There was a sharp edge in her tone now, one that carried both anger and pride.
"You think that’s enough to scare ?"
She shook her head, her gaze unwavering.
"I don’t care where you’ve been."
"I don’t care who you’ve faced."
"I don’t care how many tis you’ve won."
Each word ca out stronger than the last.
"Because none of that changes what I know."
Her chin lifted slightly, mirroring Pam’s earlier posture, but with her own intensity behind it.
"I didn’t just decide to sing today."
Her voice lowered, becoming steadier.
"I’ve studied it too."
There was no hesitation when she said it.
"No one here knows that."
Her lips pressed together briefly before she continued.
"I didn’t show it."
"Not because I couldn’t."
"But because I never needed to."
Her eyes flickered toward Cain for a mont, then returned to Pam.
"But now..."
Her voice sharpened.
"I do."
There was sothing fierce in her expression now, sothing that refused to be overshadowed, sothing that refused to be dismissed.
"You think you’re the only one who understands control?"
A faint, almost challenging smile appeared on her lips.
"You think you’re the only one who knows how to carry emotion through a lody?"
She took another step forward, closing the distance slightly.
"Then you’re wrong."
Her voice remained steady.
"I’ve trained."
"Not in front of crowds."
"Not in competitions."
"But that doesn’t make it any less real."
Her gaze hardened.
"And it doesn’t make it any weaker."
Pam stared at her for a mont.
Then—
She laughed.
It was not loud.
Not mocking in an obvious way.
But there was no mistaking the disbelief behind it.
"Competitions aren’t just ’so stages.’"
Her voice carried a faint trace of amusent, as if she found Faith’s words more entertaining than threatening.
"You really don’t understand, do you?"
She shook her head slowly.
"I’ve traveled from place to place."
"Faced different styles, different expectations, different standards."
Her smile returned, calm and composed.
"And I adapted every ti."
She took a step closer.
"You say you studied?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, though the amusent did not leave them.
"Then you should know what that ans."
Her voice lowered.
"It ans pressure."
"It ans standing there while people judge every single sound you make."
"It ans knowing that one mistake..."
Her gaze locked onto Faith’s.
"Is enough to lose everything."
She paused, letting the weight of that settle.
"And I didn’t make that mistake."
Her confidence remained unshaken.
"Not once when it mattered."
The guards nodded again, their agreent imdiate, almost instinctive.
"We saw it."
"She didn’t slip."
"Even under pressure."
"She held it together every ti."
Their voices blended together once more, reinforcing her words, strengthening the image she had built.
Faith’s expression darkened.
Her patience wore thin.
Her frustration grew.
Then—
It snapped.
"Are you all even real soldiers?"
Her voice rose sharply, breaking through the calm that had settled in the hall.
Her eyes swept across the guards, filled with anger that she did not bother to hide.
"Or are you just planted here to support her?"
The accusation hung in the air, heavy and direct.
"You’re all speaking like you rehearsed this."
Her lips curled slightly.
"Praising her like she’s already won."
Her gaze hardened.
"Before I’ve even started."
There was no restraint in her tone now.
"No hesitation.
"You’re shaless."
The word landed hard.
And for a mont—
The guards did not respond.
So of them looked away.
Others remained still, their expressions tightening slightly, but none of them imdiately spoke.
Because there was truth in what she said.
Not entirely.
But enough.
They had seen Pam’s achievents.
They had witnessed her victories.
And without realizing it—
They had already leaned toward her.
Pam noticed it.
Of course she did.
And her smile deepened slightly.
Then she looked back at Faith, her expression returning to that sa calm confidence as before.
"If you’re scared..."
Her voice was soft again.
Gentle.
But the aning behind it was anything but.
"You can just say no."
She tilted her head slightly.
"No one will bla you."
Her eyes glinted faintly.
"After all..."
She let the words linger for a mont.
"You already heard what I can do."
The silence stretched.
Faith stood there.
Her chest rose and fell slowly.
Her fists clenched.
Her gaze burned.
Then—
She took a step forward.
"No."
Her voice was firm.
Unshaken.
"I’m not scared."
She lifted her chin, her eyes locking onto Pam’s with unwavering determination.
"I can handle all of you."
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