Chapter 13:

The Big Five Plus One was a title given to the group consisting of the five representatives from the largest financial contributors to the Solstice Song contest: Italy, the UK, France, Germany, and Spain. With them was the past song contest winner; this year, that was the Belgian representative. Although I didn’t know exactly who the other four were, I could figure they were the representatives from Belgium, France, Germany, and Spain.

The other advantage of being the Big Five Plus One meant you automatically qualified for the final—no need to compete in the semis like us regular folk. But at least it meant Marco would be in the finals.

While everyone was fixated on the Big Five, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Blake, lead singer for Jane Doe and the Cadavers! Do you have a moment to talk to us?” A male voice asked.

“Umm. Sure.” I responded. They had cameras, so I figured they were a media crew instead of contestants. I felt more at ease with contestants than I did with the media. Why would the media care about what I had to say?

“Blake, lead singer of Jane Doe, thank you for granting us some time, given how busy you must be.”

“That’s alright. I have time to chat,” I smiled, thinking that may help with our public image. Stephanie wanted us to try to make ourselves seem approachable rather than a group of socially awkward messes.

“How does it feel to be one of the favourites for the competition?”

“I… ummm… I’m not really sure.” I responded, somewhat caught off guard. What did they mean we were a favourite to win? Like we were from Australia. How were we a favourite? There must be some kind of mistake.

“But surely you must be keeping an eye on the odds.”

My initial thoughts, that this was some kind of joke, were beginning to diminish, and the encroaching dread began to take hold.

“Honestly, I haven’t looked at who the favourites are or anything. I’m just focused on the performance.” I tried to answer honestly, also following the advice Stephanie gave. Divert. Divert. Divert.

“Have you spoken to any of the other favourites of the contest?” The reporter asked.

“Like I said, I’m focused on our own performance, so I don’t know who they are, but I have interacted with a few other contestants tonight. They are all so lovely.”

Nailed it, I thought to myself.

“I believe one of your band members, Jet, was speaking to one of the favourites, Budor Tumbac, who is representing Moldova earlier this evening,” They added. It seemed they were really keen on pushing this ‘favourites’ narrative.

Though hearing the name Budor Tumbac did ring bells. I remembered seeing Jet speak to an older gentleman earlier in the night. Although I couldn’t see him properly, I did know of Budor Tumbac.

The eighty-something-year-old Budor Tumbac had attempted to represent Moldova for numerous years, always just missing out. Rumours say it was because Moldova was frightened of winning and hosting the contest the following year. It was expensive to host Solstice.

Well, if they were sending Budor, then it seemed like they were finally getting serious about the contest. No wonder they were a favourite.

“Well, I haven’t had a chance to talk to him myself, but I know how great a voice he has, so I’m sure he will be tough competition.” I was beginning to feel anxious. So far, I thought I was doing a good job at handling the media, but I was starting to lose control.

“You also spoke with Punainen Aamunkoitto before; what do you think of them and their song?”

They asked me a question I was hoping they wouldn’t ask. I hadn’t listened to anyone else’s song other than Marco’s. I didn’t want the pressure of comparing myself to others. I would feel depressed; I knew how talented each and every artist was.

“They are both so very lovely,” I said, channelling my inner aristocratic villainess. I suppose that was the perks of wearing a stunning dress and crown.

“You didn’t say anything about their song. You don’t like their song?” The reporter probed further.

“That’s not it!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t add that I hadn’t listened to their song. So, I abruptly left it there.

“If that’s not it, what is it then?” They continued to probe deeper. I realised by this point that I had messed up not shooting it down earlier.

“I like everyone’s song,” I mumbled. I began to feel very anxious. I looked over to Marco, who was being interviewed himself. He caught my gaze.

“If you like everyone’s song, which is your favourite?” They continued to fire off questions.

I tried to back away, but I was in heels and lost balance in my flustered state. Before I completely fell, I was caught by someone. I looked up at Marco’s handsome face.

“Sorry, Blake looks tired. He should get some rest.” He said to the interviewer before scooping me off my feet. How was he so strong? Like I wasn’t particularly heavy or anything, but to just scoop me up like that. Marco was way too strong… and handsome…

Also, it made me blush. I thrashed around a little.

“Don’t fight,” he whispered, and my face turned bright red. “I’ll take you to your room to rest.”

Given that he had told me not to resist, I just stopped and held onto him as he carried me across the room. The whole room was fixated on us. Photos were snapping, cameras were rolling, and some people were pointing. A few female voices squealed what sounded like delight, but I didn’t dare look up. I was way too embarrassed.

I buried my face into his chest, too embarrassed by the situation to look at anyone else.

─── ༻ ☼ ༺ ───

End of Chapter 13