After a while, Foca finally spoke.
"Alright, guys. You can all continue catching up later. Right now, we've got important business to get down to."
That was all it took to settle the atmosphere. The excited chatter gradually died down as every trainee turned their attention back to Foca.
"Thank you," Foca said with his signature warm smile. "Now... let's get into it."
"Alright, boys, listen up!" Tuesday announced, clapping her hands together. "For this finale, you're gonna have to work your asses off harder than ever before. This stage is absolutely jam-packed with performances, which means you'll have even more opportunities to show everyone the results of all that blood, sweat, and suffering you've endured on this island."
She grinned.
"Everything you've trained for? It's time to put it all on display."
"And what better way to kick things off..." Luca continued, a sly grin spreading across his face, "...than with a good ol'..."
Snap.
The instant his fingers snapped, music blasted through the outdoor speakers.
🎶 This is who we are!
We're LEAVEN, LEAVEN up up up!
Rising, rising up up up!
Nothing's gonna hold us down! 🎶
The trainees froze.
Eyes widened.
Several instinctively grabbed onto the person beside them. Others broke into uncontrollable smiles. A few simply closed their eyes, letting the lyrics wash over them.
🎶 *Hands together to the sky!
Lift your voices, let them fly!
Freedom's running through our blood!
No more cages, rise above!
LEAVEN up up up up!
LEAVEN up up up up!* 🎶
The music faded.
For exactly half a second...
...before the room exploded.
"Is that what I think it is?!"
"No shot. There's no way we're doing that this late into the show!"
"My guy, if it sounds like a signal song... and walks like a signal song..."
"...it's a damn signal song."
"Dude, this is gonna be insane."
"It already sounds fire."
Luca chuckled at their reactions.
"Yep. You heard right. Your very first challenge for the finale..."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"...is your signal song."
One trainee slowly raised his hand.
"...Aren't we supposed to do that at the beginning of the show?"
A beat of silence.
"...Yeah, well..." Luca shrugged. "Our beloved owner here kinda forgot."
Every head turned toward Foca.
Foca scratched the back of his neck, his ears turning pink.
"...In my defense..."
"Boo-boo, you have no defense," Tuesday deadpanned.
The room erupted into laughter.
"That is so Sir Foca," one trainee wheezed.
Once the laughter settled, Tuesday continued.
"For this signal song, we've decided not to follow the usual survival show formula."
She folded his arms.
"Since we've never had an official ranking system from the very beginning, doing the standard center ranking wouldn't make much sense."
"So..." Luca continued.
"We're doing it the Bread Music way."
That instantly caught everyone's attention.
"This signal song will be ninety percent music video and only ten percent stage performance."
He let the words hang.
"And your screen time?"
His grin grew sharper.
"That's earned."
Everyone immediately erupted into nervous whispers.
From day one, Bread Music had always pushed equal opportunities. Equal exposure. Equal chances.
But now...
Screen time was becoming merit-based.
Which meant...
Someone could end up with barely any camera time at all.
"Now, now," Luca said, raising both hands. "I know exactly what you're all thinking, so let me explain."
The room quieted.
"Everyone will still receive the same guaranteed minimum amount of screen time. That promise hasn't changed."
He pointed around the room.
"But..."
"If you work your ass off harder than everyone else..."
"...you'll be rewarded with more."
His smile was almost predatory.
"Because at the end of the day..."
"...this is still a competition."
Silence settled over the trainees as his words sank in.
Then Luca dropped another bomb.
"And if you think that's rough..."
His grin somehow widened even further.
"...you'll also be sharing this signal song with the current LEAVEN debut lineup."
"...What?"
"...Excuse me?"
"Dude..."
"That's brutal."
Instinctively, several trainees glanced toward the debut lineup.
They had once stood exactly where everyone else was standing now.
But somewhere along the way...
They had become something else entirely.
Their posture.
Their confidence.
The quiet certainty in the way they carried themselves.
The gap felt enormous.
For the first time in a long while, some of the trainees genuinely felt intimidated.
"And of course," Luca continued, completely unbothered by the collective panic he'd just caused, "I'll be directing both the music video and the stage production."
He flashed a smile that somehow made everyone even more nervous.
"So sure, you can try impressing your mentors."
He pointed a thumb at himself.
"But for this challenge?"
"You impress me."
His eyes gleamed.
"And trust me..."
"When I'm behind a camera..."
"...I'm a very hard man to impress."
"I'm not trying to scare you," Foca chimed in.
"...Actually, scratch that. I am."
He laughed.
"Luca can be an absolute menace when he's directing."
"I know."
"I've survived it."
The trainees laughed, but Foca wasn't entirely joking.
Back at Juilliard, there had once been a rehearsal so heated that he and Luca had nearly come to blows over a creative disagreement. Luca could be relentlessly meticulous, stubborn to the point of insanity, and completely uncompromising once he had a vision locked in.
But praise was due where praise belonged.
He wasn't difficult because of his ego.
He was difficult because he could back every demand with undeniable skill.
Graduating at the top of his class spoke for itself.
Just like Foca, Luca refused to compromise when it came to his craft.
Not for deadlines.
Not for convenience.
Not even for Foca.
And somehow...
That says everything.
****
"So... everyone, get some rest! Because tomorrow, we get straight to work!" Cat announced, expertly steering the atmosphere like the seasoned host she was.
"Yeah!" the trainees shouted in unison.
And with that, Foca, Luca, Tuesday, Cat, and the mentors made their way back toward the Jenga Tower, while the trainees returned to their dormitories.
Their home away from home.
Which, to be fair, some of them actually preferred over their real homes.
I mean... these aren't your average dorms.
They're luxury dorms.
We've established this already, people.
I'm not yelling.
Just... gently reminding some of y'all.
Because I know a few of you absolutely need to start rereading.
Hehehe. 🤭
Anyway...
The trainees settled into their accommodations in no time. Honestly, it felt less like they were returning from filming and more like they were coming home after a nice little holiday.
Time, as it often did around here, sprinted by.
Before anyone knew it...
It was already the next day.
Or more accurately...
Three o'clock in the ungodly morning.
While the rest of the island remained wrapped in blissful sleep, one trainee's day had already begun.
Johnny.
Like clockwork, Johnny's eyes opened the instant his alarm vibrated.
He sat quietly on the edge of his bed for a moment, letting himself wake up before standing.
First order of business?
His camera.
He propped his phone against the bedside table, adjusted the angle with surgical precision, took one look...
"Nope."
Tilt.
Scoot.
Tiny adjustment.
"...Perfect."
Satisfied, he climbed back into bed.
Closed his eyes.
Took a ten-minute power nap.
Then "woke up" again with a sleepy yawn before getting out of bed.
Natural.
Very natural.
Now, before you call this disturbing behavior...
Relax.
Johnny simply had a habit of documenting his life.
Think video diary.
Think daily vlog.
Think "future me is gonna appreciate this footage."
He'd occasionally upload the videos to VidTube, TikYin, Z, or Instaglam whenever he felt like it.
With quiet discipline, Johnny moved through his morning routine with practiced efficiency.
After making his bed, he remained in nothing but his boxers as he rolled out a yoga mat across the floor.
Stretching came first.
An hour and a half later, once every muscle had properly awakened, he headed to the bathroom to answer nature's call before freshening up.
And yes...
His poop schedule was somehow so consistent it probably deserved its own calendar.
Some people have routines.
Johnny had a gastrointestinal contract.
Once that was done, he changed into comfortable running clothes, grabbed his reusable water jug, filled it to the brim, and quietly slipped outside while the rest of the dorm was still unconscious.
After warming up his ankles, knees, and legs, he began his daily run.
Camera rolling, of course.
His route never changed.
From the trainee village...
Through the mountain path...
Down toward the ocean...
Then looping all the way back.
Now, when I say "mountain path," don't imagine some spooky forest trail where horror movies happen.
This thing is practically a luxury park.
It's lined with street lamps from start to finish.
Apparently, somebody rich, *cough* Foca *cough*, looked at the mountain one day and thought,
"Hm... too dark."
"So... let's install approximately seventeen thousand lamp posts."
Problem solved.
The whole place looks like someone copied that iconic Narnia lamp post...
...then hit Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V about five hundred times.
Long story short...
The path is ridiculously well-lit.
There.
Happy?
Sorry.
I got distracted again.
Back to Johnny.
While running, Johnny effortlessly slipped into his vocal warm-ups.
Honestly...
The discipline on this man needed to be studied.
Because if you met him during the day, you'd swear he was the patron saint of lovable disasters.
The life of every party.
Chronically unserious.
Professional idiot.
But behind closed doors?
The work ethic was downright terrifying.
He trained with an intensity that would make even the strictest mentors nod in approval.
The saddest part?
Despite all that effort...
Johnny still believed everyone else was better than him.
After finishing his vocal exercises, he took a quick swig of water.
Then, without thinking too much about it, he sang the very first song that popped into his head.
🎶 This is who we are!
We're LEAVEN, LEAVEN up up up!
Rising, rising up up up!
Nothing's gonna hold us down! 🎶
He had heard the song...
Once.
Just once.
And somehow he already remembered every lyric.
If that wasn't ridiculously impressive, I genuinely don't know what is.
Unfortunately...
Ask Johnny about it, and he'd probably shrug.
"It's nothing."
Just another one of those little things he never realized was actually extraordinary.
Eventually, he reached the ocean path.
Something told him to stop for a minute and enjoy the fresh morning breeze.
Now...
Most people would stand there quietly.
Maybe admire the sunrise.
Take a deep breath.
Reflect on life.
Johnny?
Absolutely not.
He blasted music through his phone at maximum volume and immediately started dancing across the sand like he was starring in the opening montage of a coming-of-age sports movie.
The sunrise painted the horizon in gold.
The waves kept perfect rhythm.
For a brief moment...
The whole beach became his stage.
After dancing until he was thoroughly satisfied, Johnny jogged back to the dorms.
A quick shower washed away the sweat from his morning run.
He gargled with mouthwash.
Applied enough heavy-duty unscented deodorant to survive the apocalypse.
Finished his simple skincare routine.
Then changed into his rehearsal clothes.
Only then did he head for the kitchen.
Breakfast wasn't just for himself.
It never was.
He cooked crispy bacon.
Eggs.
Pancakes, each made exactly how their respective owner liked them.
He blended his signature protein shake for himself and Louie.
Fresh oranges and apples disappeared into the state-of-the-art juicer for Timmy and Toma.
Seriously, thank God for whoever bought that ridiculously expensive machine. Wink wink...
Meanwhile, the coffee maker worked overtime, brewing fresh coffee for Yen and Jeremiah.
By the time everything was ready...
The kitchen smelled like heaven.
Now came the hardest part of Johnny's morning.
Waking everyone up.
Some were easy.
Others...
Required divine intervention.
Johnny nearly caught a right hook to the face when he tried waking Louie.
Out of everyone in the dorm, Louie loved sleep with an almost religious devotion.
Interrupting it was considered a declaration of war.
What followed was less "good morning"...
...and more WrestleMania.
After several minutes of dodging flying limbs, wrestling blankets, and surviving what could only be described as sleep-fueled combat...
Johnny finally emerged victorious.
Louie was awake.
Technically.
Very grumpy.
Very disheveled.
But awake nonetheless.
****
PS- You guys can listen to "LEAVEN" on Spotify. (https://open.spotify.com/album/7wpGNdndPdfK82xVpSNbPC?si=FQNF9Me3Rii9IRpvFeCG-A)