|| 0.3 — Shared Trophy || master list here
Award shows were louder than concerts.
Not because of the fans — but because of what was at stake.
The MMA Awards stage glittered gold under sweeping lights, cameras flashing every second as idols filled the arena in carefully styled rows. Celestia Entertainment had nearly half the room occupied now — COOL-AS laughing too loudly in one corner, HOT-N-FUN waving dramatically at cameras, FOUR-US sitting elegantly in coordinated tones.
SHAKE IT UP sat glowing in soft pastels beside them.
You tried not to look to your left.
“And the winner for Best Collaboration Stage…”
The screen began replaying it.
The audience volume spiked.
For half a second, neither group moved.
Then everything happened at once.
Yoimiya gasped and grabbed Lumine. Fischl looked ready to deliver a monologue. Mualani nearly knocked over a chair standing up too fast. On the other side, Childe was already halfway to his feet, grinning like he’d expected this all along.
Scaramouche stood slower.
Both groups met at the aisle at the same time.
Fourteen idols walking toward the same stage. Pink and ocean tones blending under gold lighting. The crowd screaming both fandom names at once.
When the trophy was handed over, the MC hesitated.
“…Both leaders may come forward?”
But before either could fully grasp it, another hand closed around the base.
For a moment, it looked polite.
“It’s a joint award,” Name said sweetly, smile camera-perfect.
“I’m aware,” Scaramouche replied smoothly, not loosening his hold.
The audience laughed, assuming it was playful.
“You’re blocking the engraving,” Name murmured.
“You’re tilting it,” he shot back quietly.
The trophy wobbled slightly between them.
Childe leaned toward Kazuha behind them. “Oh this is getting clipped.”
Kazuha exhaled softly. “The tide is rising.”
Yoimiya whispered, “Not on stage. Not on stage.”
The MC chuckled nervously. “Looks like they’re both very passionate!”
Gorou stepped in gently, placing a steadying hand beneath the award. Lumine mirrored him on the other side.
“Together,” Lumine said calmly.
The four of them adjusted their grips at the same time.
From afar, it looked unified. Victorious. Perfect.
But when the acceptance speech mic was passed down the line, Name spoke first.
“We’re really honored to share this moment—”
“Share,” Scaramouche repeated softly into his own mic when it reached him, tone unreadable. “Right.”
The audience roared again, interpreting it as dry humor.
Online, clips were already uploading.
“THIS ISN’T A SHIP THIS IS A WAR.”
Back in their seats afterward, the energy had shifted.
SHAKE IT UP looked stunned.
COOL-AS was openly watching like it was a live drama. Itto was clapping for no reason. Kaeya leaned back with a knowing smirk. Venti from ?WONDERLAND¿ was absolutely going to post something cryptic later.
You stared straight ahead.
Because this wasn’t just playful tension anymore.
And rivalry, under stage lights and award cameras, spreads even faster than rumors.
When the show cut to commercial break, Scaramouche leaned slightly toward your row without looking directly at you.
“Oh,” Name replied lightly, eyes still on the stage. “Worry about your own group first.”
Across the arena, fan chants began again.
The moment cameras cut and groups filtered backstage, tension snapped.
“You think that was cute?” Scaramouche’s voice was low, but sharp enough to cut through the hallway noise.
Name turned slowly. “Think what was?”
“The one that you did?” she shot back.
The hallway quieted. Staff members glanced over but didn’t intervene.
“You’re overstepping,” he said.
“You don’t own the stage.”
“You’re acting like you do.”
“At least I don’t pretend not to care.”
Childe muttered under his breath, “Dang.”
Gorou stepped forward. “Both of you, lower your voices.”
“You grabbed the trophy first,” Name said.
“You reached for it too.”
“Because it wasn’t yours alone.”
“Neither was your performance.”
“And yet,” she snapped, stepping closer, “I carried it.”
“Like I said Lumine, control your maknae,” Scaramouche said sharply, looking past her toward your group.
Name’s expression shifted instantly.
“Control your ego,” she fired back.
For a split second, it looked like neither would step away.
Lumine moved first, gently placing a hand on Name’s shoulder.
Gorou mirrored the action on Scaramouche’s arm.
“That’s enough, go get ready for your solo Name.” Lumine said calmly.
Scaramouche didn’t break eye contact for another second before stepping back.
Name straightened her posture and walked off.
Gorou sighed, rubbing his temples. “Freminet, you should go get ready too.”
Freminet blinked, slightly startled, then quietly slipped away toward the dressing rooms. Childe lingered just long enough to look between Scaramouche and the hallway Name disappeared down.
“…This is going to trend for weeks,” he muttered, half amused, half concerned.
Scaramouche didn’t respond. He sat back against the couch, jaw tight, fingers tapping once against his knee before going still.
Across the hall, SHAKE IT UP’s room was louder.
Yoimiya was pacing. “Why did you step closer?? That was the moment! That was the clip!”
“I didn’t plan that,” Name replied, though her tone wasn’t entirely convincing.
Fischl dramatically placed a hand over her chest. “The tension between sovereign forces was destined to erupt beneath celestial judgment.”
Mualani blinked. “That means this is bad, right?”
Lumine stayed calm, but her voice lowered slightly. “You cannot escalate it again. Not tonight.”
Name crossed her arms. “He started it.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Lumine said gently. “You’re about to perform solo. Every camera will be watching for a reaction.”
Back in RIFT’s room, Gorou crouched slightly in front of Scaramouche. “You cannot say things like that on a live mic.”
“I didn’t,” Scaramouche replied evenly.
Kinich leaned against the wall, watching quietly. Lyney gave a soft hum. “Well… the chemistry was electric.”
“It wasn’t chemistry,” Gorou corrected.
Childe smirked. “Could’ve fooled the audience.”
Scaramouche finally stood. “It’s irrelevant.”
When Name’s solo stage was announced, the green room monitors flickered to life. Soft rose lighting filled the screen. The instrumental began — elegant, airy, controlled.
On stage, Name didn’t look shaken. She didn’t look angry.
Every movement was precise. Every expression intentional. The high note during the bridge rang out crystal clear, strong enough that even the hallway outside the dressing rooms erupted in cheers.
The camera cut — briefly — to RIFT’s reaction.
Childe clapped immediately.
Kazuha nodded, thoughtful.
Freminet watched quietly.
Still. Focused. Unreadable.
When the performance ended, the crowd roared louder than before. Fan chants overlapped. Comments were already flooding every live feed.
Backstage, Name stepped off the stage to applause from staff. Lumine hugged her quickly. Yoimiya was already halfway crying from adrenaline.
“You carried that,” Mualani whispered.
Across the corridor, RIFT’s door opened at the same time SHAKE IT UP’s did.
And for one brief second—
Scaramouche and Name locked eyes again.
The applause from Name’s solo was still echoing through the arena when the screen shifted again.
“Up next… a special stage from RIFT’s maknae, Freminet.”
The lighting changed instantly.
The pink hues faded into deep ocean blues.
A single spotlight cut through mist that rolled slowly across the stage floor.
Freminet stood alone at center.
The instrumental began soft — piano layered with distant wave sounds. He moved gently at first, almost hesitant, like the choreography was something fragile he didn’t want to break.
The camera zoomed in during the first chorus — and the arena went still.
Freminet wasn’t performing loudly.
He was performing honestly.
Every turn felt like a ripple in water. Every hand movement deliberate. When the beat dropped for the dance break, the blue lighting shifted to silver, reflecting like moonlight on the ocean as he executed a clean, controlled spin that earned a sharp wave of cheers.
Backstage, SHAKE IT UP watched from the monitor.
“…Oh,” Yoimiya whispered.
Lumine nodded slightly. “He’s good.”
On the final note, Freminet stepped back into shadow instead of striking a dramatic ending pose. The lights dimmed slowly around him, fading like the tide pulling away.
In RIFT’s room, Childe grinned proudly. “That’s our maknae.”
Scaramouche allowed himself the smallest nod of approval.
Across the hall, Name exhaled slowly.
Because now it wasn’t just her solo being compared.
this chapter was like already written before a group had a name change sooo if you see ?WONDERLAND¿ it’s hot-n-fun…
