The lounge was dim, curtains heavy, a place where stars met without cameras. A round table sat in the center, already waiting with drinks that none of them touched.
Verly leaned forward, tapping her pen against a leather folder.
"Season Four of the Voice Hunt. Four judges. I want it to be electric. I want it to burn. Alfred Seal. Michael Blurb. Leila Seams. Synvie Taylor."
Alfred tilted back in his chair, lips curling. "That's not a panel, Verly. That's a battlefield."
Verly smirked. "Exactly. Fire sells."
Alfred: "You think Michael will even show up? Last I checked, he's too busy chasing spotlights to sit in a red chair."
Verly: "He already said yes. What I'm asking is if you can handle it. Sitting across from him. Sitting next to Leila."
Alfred stilled.
Verly asks: "Does Leila know you're with me right now?"
Alfred didn't blink. "Yes. She trusts me. And she trusts you, more than you think. Whatever between you and me, maybe it doesn't matter to her now."
A shadow flickered in Verly's eyes. She masked it with a laugh.
"Don't start with poetry, Alfred. This is business."
Verly leaned closer, voice low. "Business doesn't erase the stage. You and Leila lit it up once.
Bloom too late but broke too soon.
People still whisper that line like gospel. Imagine that energy again, but on live TV."
Alfred: "And what about Synvie? You think she'll play nice with Michael? They were fire and gasoline the last time they crossed paths."
Verly: "Rumor has it..."
She let the words hang, watching Alfred..."Synvie and Michael have been... seeing each other. Quietly."
Alfred's jaw tightened, pride flashing across his face before he caught himself.
"That's their mess. Doesn't bother me."
Verly: "Doesn't it?"
Silence. A muscle twitched in Alfred's cheek. He finally exhaled.
"I'll do it. I'll sit in the chair. But don't mistake me, Verly...this isn't about nostalgia.
I'll do the show, I'll smile for the cameras.
But if Blurb starts his games, or if Synvie thinks she can drag me or Leila into their little duet, Leila and I won't play."
Verly smiled, satisfied. "Good. Because I don't want you to play. I want you to fight. And the whole world will be watching."
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