"Taming the Crybaby Tyrant:"On the First Day We Lived Together, He Beat Me Until I Cried"" Chapter 38: Turmoil in the Practice Room

Chapter 38: Turmoil in the Practice Room

Inside the gymnasium of Coastal College, the air was thick with the faint scent of sweat mixed with floor wax.

Dozens of finalists stood in neat lines, their athletic wear appearing exceptionally vibrant under the glow of the overhead lights.

Lucian stood in the formation, his posture as straight as a pine tree.

After several days of disciplined living, his once-messy hair had become manageable and lustrous. The dark circles under his eyes had vanished completely, replaced by a long-lost vitality.

Sunlight poured through the massive glass windows, bathing him in light and outlining the smooth, fluid lines of his neck and shoulders, drawing frequent side-glances from the girls nearby.

"Lucian," Mr. Zhang, the coach in charge of the selection, walked over with a roster in hand. He looked Lucian up and down, his eyes full of admiration. "You’ve recovered well these past few days. Look at your color, your posture—you’re much more composed than you were in the preliminaries. If you maintain this state, making the final is a certainty; you might even have a shot at first place!"

Hearing this, Lucian let out a lazy smile. "I’ll keep it up. After all, I’m already here."

Standing in the front row, Xavier Lin—currently ranked first—felt his fingers tighten slightly as he listened to the commotion behind him.

He maintained a perfectly timed, gentle smile as he turned to nod at Lucian, though his gaze remained as cold as ice.

"Lucian truly is a natural clothes horse. Teacher is right; you have a lot of talent," Xavier’s voice was as warm as jade, betraying not a hint of his true feelings.

Lucian gave a perfunctory "Mm" and drifted his gaze elsewhere, clearly not bothered by this so-called "Number One."

Xavier turned back, the smile on his face instantly freezing.

He desperately needed first place in this competition. That hundred-thousand-dollar prize wasn't just about his debut in the fashion world; it was directly tied to next semester’s high tuition fees and his mother’s medical bills. If he lost, all his plans would collapse.

As far as he knew, Lucian came from a wealthy background and didn't need the money at all; he was likely just there to prove himself and win the hearts of some girls.

This massive disparity caused a wave of indescribable loathing to surge within Xavier.

"Quiet, everyone!" Mr. Zhang clapped his hands, signaling the group to assemble. "Next, we will proceed with the final physical assessment. Lucian, Xavier, the two of you come up first to give a demonstration."

Lucian cracked his neck with a slight pop, the air of casualness instantly vanishing as he exuded a raw, wild tension.

He was determined to win that hundred thousand. He needed money for rent, startup capital for his business, and he still owed that old man three hundred thousand in reality...

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Since his parents passed away, he truly understood the importance of money—and the fact that no one else could be relied upon!

Once the assembly was complete, the group followed the instructor to the practice room of Coastal College.

As one of the most resource-rich fashion institutions in the country, Coastal College had deep partnerships with top enterprises. From haute couture to international brand endorsements, every student who stood on this stage had their feet on a red carpet leading into the world of fame and fortune.

It was an exceptional platform and a springboard for countless people to change their destinies.

"Xavier, open your shoulders more. Yes, your gaze needs to be piercing!" Mr. Zhang instructed from the side, then turned to Lucian. "Lucian, your basic physical condition is excellent, but your sense of rhythm on the catwalk still needs polishing. Follow the beat of the music."

"Got it," Lucian replied, fine beads of sweat forming on his brow. His eyes were focused, and his cooperation was flawless.

He knew the weight of this prize money.

After leaving Sebastian’s villa, staying in a hotel was an added expense. More importantly, the small business idea he and Chen were plotting lacked startup capital.

A hundred thousand might not even be enough for Sebastian to make a splash, but for Lucian, it was the confidence to retake control of his life.

Standing not far away, Xavier listened to the teacher's praise, his knuckles turning white at his side.

Xavier did not know the truth—that Lucian’s parents were gone and his family fortune had vanished.

According to the information Xavier had, Lucian was still a wealthy young master; even his occasional displays of being down-and-out were interpreted by Xavier as just another "experience" for the rich.

Deep down, Xavier harbored an instinctive hostility toward those born with silver spoons.

He loathed the injustice. Why did some people naturally possess resources that he had to strain for, or even sacrifice his dignity just to reach?

This hatred made him feel nauseous—not just toward Lucian, but toward himself, for becoming dark and narrow-minded because of poverty.

He detested his own inferiority complex yet couldn't escape it.

These contradictory emotions gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake, forcing him to maintain that gentle, kind mask whenever he faced Lucian.

"Hey, Xavier, what are you dazing out for? Didn't you hear the teacher praising you?"

The second-place contestant was a carefree optimist with a boisterous personality, who reached out to sling an arm around Xavier’s shoulder.

Xavier’s body stiffened, but he instinctively adjusted his expression, submissively going along with the joke. A gentle smile curved his lips. "I heard. Thank you, Teacher."

"Look at you, always so steady."

The second-place contestant patted his back, laughing heartily. "Unlike some people who look all arrogant but aren't bad at practicing."

Xavier followed his gaze to Lucian.

The youth was in front of the mirror, repeatedly practicing his turns. Sweat soaked his hairline, yet his expression was exceptionally serious.

It was a type of seriousness born from giving one's all for a goal—completely different from the profligate rich kids in Xavier’s memory.

A flicker of confusion crossed Xavier’s eyes, but it was quickly suppressed by an even deeper obsession.

No matter what, first place had to be his.

He desperately wanted the money, the validation, and the path to a larger stage.

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