Prince stepped into the practice room, his gaze swept across the room.
In the far corner, CJ sat with his earphones in, silently mouthing the lyrics. His usual playful energy was absent, replaced by deep concentration. Every so often, he tapped his fingers against his knee, mapping out the rhythm in his head, occasionally standing to test out choreography.
On the other side of the room, Rocky was working through the dance, his brows furrowed in frustration. He repeated a particular move several times, shaking his head when he couldn't quite get it right.
Prince's gaze shifted to Bryce. Unlike the others, Bryce wasn't modifying anything—he was focused on perfecting the part they had all agreed to keep. His voice carried softly through the room, blending with the faint instrumental track playing from his phone.
Prince exhaled. Everyone was giving it their all.
_____
"One... two... three..." CJ's voice cut through the quiet as they gathered at the center of the room. "Let's run through it from the top."
The music started, and they moved in sync, executing everything they had learned so far. But something felt off.
Prince couldn't quite pinpoint the issue, but the routine lacked fluidity. The movements felt stiff, and the transitions weren't as smooth as they should be. Even after hours of practice, the choreography seemed like a mix of three different styles—some parts felt repetitive, while others didn't fit at all.
Prince wasn't the best dancer—that much was clear. He always took the longest to get the moves down. But even he could tell that something needed to change.
CJ wiped his forehead and glanced at the clock. "Let's run it one more time. It's already late, but if we get this right now, we can focus on vocals and arrangement tomorrow."
Prince nodded. "Yeah, plus I still need to rewrite the lyrics."
Rocky groaned, rolling his shoulders. "We need to move fast, then. The performance is on Wednesday, which means we've only got five days left."
"We're making good progress," CJ assured them. "The choreography is done—we just need to clean it up. Let's go one more time."
They reset, the music started again, and they danced once more. But even as they moved through the routine, Prince still couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
By the time they finished, he placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
CJ clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's call it a night. Be here early tomorrow—7 AM sharp."
Prince groaned. "You really had to make it that early?"
CJ smirked. "If we want to win, we don't have a choice."
Rocky sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if I don't get my coffee first, don't talk to me."
Bryce chuckled as they all started packing up.
As they headed toward their rooms, Rocky was watching something on his phone when CJ peeked over his shoulder. "What's that?"
"A news report about a thief," Rocky replied.
On the screen, a ZNN broadcast was playing, featuring anchor Peter Moosebridge.
Peter Moosebridge: Small-time thief and ne'er-do-well Duke Weaselton embarrassed himself once again today, wreaking havoc in Little Rodentia until he was apprehended with a giant donut—by ZPD's first bunny cop on a… Correction. It was a meter maid.
A clip of the weasel struggling inside the massive donut flashed across the screen.
Peter Moosebridge: With luck like that, he'll always be a small-time crook.
CJ squinted at the footage before nudging Prince with a teasing grin. "Look, look! Isn't that the bunny you were flirting with?"
Rocky smirked, elbowing Prince. "Oh yeah, now that you mention it—it is her."
Prince scoffed. "Oh, shut up." But in his mind, he thought, 'he plot of Zootopia is already unfolding... I just hope we don't get caught up in it.'
They soon parted ways, CJ and Rocky heading to their shared room while Prince and Bryce went to theirs.
____
As soon as they entered, Bryce stretched. "I'm taking a shower first. I feel gross."
"Go ahead," Prince replied, flopping onto his bed.
The moment Bryce entered the bathroom, a notification popped up.
[Bonus Mission! Complete this mission to upgrade the system!]
[Mission: Sign an autograph.]
Prince smirked. That's easy. I'll just give CJ or Rocky my autograph, and that'll be it.
[Conditions:]
1. The host cannot ask someone for an autograph.
2. The host cannot coax anyone into asking for one.
3. It must be completely unplanned and unexpected.
4. No autographs for people you already know.
Prince's smirk faded. What? Why so many restrictions?
[Deadline: 10 hours. Failure will result in a regression of 1 singing level.]
Prince shot up from his bed, startling Bryce, who had just stepped out of the bathroom—with a green face mask on.
"What the fuck?!" Prince blurted out.
"Shh," Bryce hushed him. "Don't be so loud."
Prince clutched his chest. "Dude, how did you shower so fast?"
Bryce gave him a flat look. "That's just how I clean. Why do you care?"
Prince shook his head, chuckling bitterly. "You look like an Ogre in those mask."
Bryce snorted. "You should shower and sleep. You look like you just had a nightmare."
Prince groaned internally. Shit—the mission.
"Hey," Prince started, "do you think we can go out tomorrow?"
Bryce chuckled. "What are you talking about? We're stuck here all week. We're not allowed to leave."
Prince's shoulders slumped. Well, fuck.
"Well, I'm going to sleep," Bryce yawned, going up his bunk. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Prince stayed still, and in a matter of minutes, he heard Bryce snoring from above him.
This was it.
He looked at his mission corner and saw the deadline.
[Deadline for mission: 9h, 53m, 7secs]
It's time to sneak out.