Chapter 190: Prep For A Small Stage

"Not yet," Ruby said, leaning back against the fence and wiping a faint trace of dust from her cheek. "I just... I need a little more time, Ethan."

"Sure," I said smoothly, holding my hands up in defeat.

I didn’t press her or fight it. The last thing I wanted was to ruin her rare, peaceful mood. Besides, the image of her managers, agents, and label executives back in the city absolutely losing their minds, running around like headless chickens trying to locate their golden goose, was way too entertaining.

Ruby caught the slight smirk on my face and chuckled. "Well, my team knows I’ve been working with you for a while now, so as far as they’re concerned... I’m all yours for the month."

I let out a loud laugh, shaking my head. "A whole month, huh?"

Then I froze.

I stopped wiping my brow and slowly turned my gaze back to her, the reality of her words hitting me.

"Wait..." I said, squinting at her under the harsh midday heat. "Don’t tell me you plan on us staying here on this farm for a whole month..."

Ruby didn’t answer. She bit her lip, her eyes darting away to focus real intensely on a chicken scratching at the dirt nearby. She shuffled her boots, avoiding my gaze with a look of pure, unadulterated guilt written all over her face.

"Ruby," I groaned, throwing my head back toward the sky. "You’re actually insane."

Before I could drag Ruby into a full interrogation about her secret one-month farm exile, the gravel driveway crunched under tires. A rusty pickup pulled up, and out stepped the ginger girl from the diner.

"Welcome!" Ruby called out, waving her over with a bright smile.

Emiliana carried a small, ribbon-tied box in her hands. "Hi guys! I brought some homemade apple tart for Mrs. Gable," she explained, jogging up the steps to drop the box off on the porch.

A moment later, she returned, wiping her hands on her jeans and looking back and forth between Ruby and me, clearly still bewildered by why a pair of random city tourists wanted to watch her sing.

"Okay..." Emiliana said, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear. "I handed off the tart. So... what exactly are we doing here?"

Ruby looked over at me, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin. "I’ll let the mogul handle this one."

I stepped forward, taking a seat on an overturned wooden crate. "Simple, Emiliana. Forget about country, forget about pitch-perfect rules, and forget about pleasing a band that wants you in the shadows. Just stand out in the middle of this pasture, open your mouth, and sing whatever song makes you feel unstoppable."

Emiliana wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head with a self-conscious laugh. "It’s not that simple! You guys are just staring at me. I can’t just turn it on like a light switch out in the middle of a dirt field!"

Ruby and I exchanged a quick look.

"Alright, no pressure," Ruby said softly, stepping closer. She started humming a smooth, low rhythm, swaying her shoulders side to side to give her something to lock onto.

I joined right in, adding a steady, rhythmic tap against my thigh with a deeper vocal hum, creating a low-key, improvised beat in the middle of the quiet farm. ℯℯ𝘭.

Emiliana fidgeted with her shirt sleeve, her cheeks flushing bright red under her freckles. "Guys, stop... I’m way too shy for this."

"Shy of what?" I asked, cutting off the beat for a second to look her dead in the eye. "There’s no talent scout here. No crowd judging you. Just cows, hay, and us."

She bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight from foot to foot, silent for a long moment. She glanced between Ruby and me, searching our faces to see if we were actually being serious.

"Okay..." Emiliana finally whispered, holding up a finger. "Promise me one thing first. Promise you guys won’t... act weird or look at me differently if I actually do it."

"I promise," I said, leaning back with a relaxed grin.

Before she could freeze up again, I tossed out a distraction. "Random question before you start, though—do you have a pet?"

Emiliana blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden left turn. "Uh... yeah, actually. I have a cat."

I rubbed my chin, looking genuinely intrigued. "Really? I’ve actually been thinking about getting a cat lately."

Just like that, the tension in her shoulders melted away. She immediately started talking about her cat, a chubby tabby named Toli who apparently loved stealing stray socks and sleeping on top of the warm refrigerator. Talking about something familiar and comfortable eased her nerves, her voice loosening up and her freckled face lighting up as she laughed.

Ruby nudged my arm, giving me a subtle, knowing look. "I see what you did there," she murmured under her breath. "You really know how to read people, don’t you?"

"Works every time," I whispered back with a smirk.

Feeling the heavy pressure lift, Emiliana took a long, deep breath. She closed her eyes for a second, feeling the warm breeze cut through the open pasture, and let her shoulders drop.

When she opened her eyes again, the timid, hesitant local girl was gone. She looked out over the open fields, raised her head, and let out a single, soaring note that echoed across the entire farm.

Emiliana gasped, her hands immediately flying to her mouth. She stared out at the open pasture in complete shock, her eyes wide as sauce pans.

"I... I actually hit that?" she breathed, totally stunned by the raw power that had just come out of her own throat. "Without straining?"

Ruby clapped her hands together, practically bouncing on her toes. "See?! I told you! That was incredible!"

I flicked open my System display while they were celebrating, checking her updated status:

[TARGET STATUS: EMILIANA]

Confidence Level: +35% (Significantly Increased) Investment Active: False (No financial investment detected yet)

Glow Up Lock Status: LOCKED Unlock Requirement: Perform with full confidence at the local diner stage alongside an established artist.

The System didn’t register pure vocal advice as a official cash investment, but her confidence was rising. The key to unlocking her full potential and completing the process was for her to step onto that diner stage again—this time, fully owning her moment alongside someone who knew the stage best.

I looked at Emiliana, then at Ruby, and a lightbulb went off.

"Her voice is there, but she’s still treating this like a choir practice," I said, stepping up to them. "She needs the real feel. Ruby, we’re getting her a mic."