I am an original singer-songwriter in the music industry. I’ve elevated countless singers to the absolute pinnacle of pop, but I myself remain under the radar. The Masked Singer invited me to be a judge, but I chose to be a contestant instead. During the first round, I critiqued the other contestants: "The vocals are just okay. The vocal runs were handled poorly." "This song isn't written very well at all." Netizens exploded: [Who the hell is this? So arrogant!] [This is a track written by Sienna, the collective Godmother of the music industry! I’ve never seen anyone so full of themselves!] [Can we just eliminate this woman already?] After my performance, the entire internet was torn between tearing me down and praising my vocals. But when I finally took off my mask, the whole web went into a collective meltdown: [Wait... who is this?!] The host teased, "You've been calling her your Godmother for so long, but now that the Godmother is standing right in front of you, you don't even recognize her?" 1 I was right in the middle of fixing a track for Tyler Hayes when the producers called me. To beg for a song, Tyler had been shadowing me every day. It was beyond annoying. Of course, that wasn't the main reason I agreed to write for him. It was because I saw a leaked screenshot of him in a group chat, asking: "Hey, if I make my favorite songwriter my girlfriend, does that mean I get an endless supply of hit tracks?" That scared me straight. I immediately opened my laptop and pulled an all-nighter to finish his song. This girl right here was being targeted. Time to pay him off with a track and run. 2 "Are you absolutely sure you’re inviting me to be a judge?" I asked again, feeling a bit resentful. "Well, Ms. Sienna, if you’d prefer, you could just be on the guessing panel," the producer on the other end said, his tone incredibly cautious. I clicked my tongue in distaste. "Are there really no other options?" The producer froze, his voice tinged with a slight panic. "Ma'am, with your A-list status..." "Can't I just be a contestant?" I was the ultimate behind-the-scenes ghost in the music industry!! Everyone considered me a breath of fresh air—a mysterious top-tier legend who never appeared on reality shows or variety programs. But the truth was... nobody ever invited me! My reputation had been hyped to the stratosphere, so obviously, I couldn't lower my status to beg for a spot on a show. It had been ages since I stood on a massive stage. The feeling of the spotlight hitting your skin? It’s pure magic. Especially a show like this, where you wear a mask. You just go up, enjoy the stage, do a one-and-done round, and leave. It sounded perfect. "Wait... Ms. Sienna, are you serious?" The producer's voice was literally trembling. I sighed, feigning regret. "Is that a no? If it's a no, then I'll just..." forget it. "Yes! Yes! Absolutely yes! Ma'am, we will make it happen!" "Awesome!" In my excitement, my finger slipped and hit "Send." I accidentally sent the unedited, flawed demo to Tyler Hayes. Before I could unsend it, a message popped up. [Thank you, Sienna! It's incredible. I love it.] [Should I ask for any revisions?] [You're joking, right? A track from Sienna is flawless. No revisions needed.] I hesitated. The song genuinely had a flaw that could slightly tarnish my pristine reputation. But whatever. I was practically coerced into writing it anyway. Let it be. 3 Turning my attention to an exclusive indie-pop group chat, Tyler's messages were glaringly bright. [Sienna wrote a song for me!] [She even asked if I needed any edits!] [Too bad I'm going on a reality show soon, I don't have time for edits.] I stared at the screen in silence. Don't tell me... we're going on the exact same show? 4 Half a month later, I heard the show was switching from a pre-recorded format to live-streaming. The moment I stepped out of my hotel and into the production van, the live broadcast had already begun. The scoring system: 4 judges (100 points each), a 10-person guessing panel (10 points each), and 500 audience members (1 point each). Total: 1000 points. Looking at the roster, literally everyone except the audience had more public clout than me. I knew all of them, but wasn't close to any of them. After all, the only way an introvert makes friends is by waiting for an extrovert to adopt them. I routinely stayed locked in my apartment for weeks at a time. No extrovert had found me yet. 5 Following the PA's instructions, I walked the red carpet, headed backstage, and drew my number. Lucky me. I was the last to perform. Tonight, out of 6 singers, the last place would be eliminated, and the second-to-last put on probation. Thrilling. Every drop of blood in my body was screaming for the stage. Backstage, I watched the live feed on a monitor. The judges, wearing the show's signature masks, were making their grand musical entrances. The production team had hyped up the judges' reveals to bring massive traffic to the premiere. The first was Arthur Vance, my mentor and the undisputed Godfather of Music. He had been retired for years; the producers must have paid a fortune to get him. The second was Richard Cole, a major label boss with a ruthless eye for talent. Any song he backed went viral instantly. The third was Ethan Pierce, a massive pop star who perfectly blended idol traffic with genuine talent. I was the one who wrote his breakout hit. The fourth was Diana Cross, a veteran pop diva who notoriously despised singers carried by internet fame—making Ethan her prime target. As their intros wrapped up, the live chat was already rolling. [I thought the producers were baiting us! They actually got them?! Aren't they worried Diana and Ethan will literally fight?] [I want them to fight. That's good TV!] [Hehe, I'm actually hyped for this.] 6 The judges took their seats. The host stepped up, the guessing panel did their comedic bits, and finally, the contestants took the stage. The first singer wore a goofy fairy-tale costume. Surprisingly, they chose to debut a brand-new song. That's usually a death sentence in singing competitions. But when the credits flashed on the screen: Lyrics & Music: Sienna. The live audience gasped. "Whoa!" "Who is this guy?!" "Of course it's a Sienna track! You can tell from the first chord!" "I'm literally crying, it's so good!" "He must be an A-lister. Sienna hasn't written for anyone in ages!" In the various waiting rooms, contestants were showering the performance with praise for the cameras. My assigned PA, a girl named Lily, seemed to be an introvert too. Our room was dead silent. I hesitated. Should I pretend to be an extrovert? 7 Lily finally broke the ice. "This singer has to be an A-lister, right? I can't believe Sienna wrote a song for him!" "No," I replied flatly. "He's a B-lister at best." Lily froze, her voice cracking. "A B-lister?" "He mishandled the vocals. There's an obvious flaw in his riff on the bridge." "And..." Lily's smile stiffened. "This is a track written by Sienna." I nodded earnestly. "I know. The song isn't written very well at all." Lily was physically shaking. Her brain was short-circuiting trying to figure out how to do damage control. The room fell into a heavy silence. I twitched my lips awkwardly. Did I say something wrong? "Well, actually..." I started. "Cut it! Cut the feed!" Lily practically screamed, trying to drown out whatever I was about to say. The cameraman quietly mumbled, "We're live on a national stream." Everyone in the room looked at me like I had just committed a felony. I offered a stiff smile and awkwardly glanced at the live chat monitor. The viewer count was skyrocketing. The engagement rate was going through the roof. [WHAT THE HELL?!] [Is she seriously trashing our goddess Sienna?!] [This is a track by the Godmother of the industry! I've never seen anyone so arrogant!] [This show was going so well. This woman is an absolute stain on the program!] 8 I leaned in, squinting at the screen. "Sienna is just a person, right? We don't need to deify her." Lily scrambled to cut me off again. "Girl, you are my favorite person, but please stop talking! Are you even in the music industry? That's Sienna!" I rolled my eyes. Fine. I won't say anything. But the comments wouldn't stop. [My God, is this just a scripted villain arc?] [Let's pray she gets eliminated round one! Take off the mask and pack your bags! I swear I'll make sure she never works in this town again!] [Is this the script the producers handed her???] [I don't get it. Who could possibly survive the backlash of this script?] 9 I was put on a mandatory mute by my panic-stricken PA. I watched as the next singer took the stage dressed as Snow White. Her song choice? Autumn in Brooklyn. Yeah, one of mine. The moment she opened her mouth, she stunned the room. Even the four judges couldn't hide their approving smiles. "That's A-list talent right there," one murmured. The live chat was a sea of praise. I nodded along. This girl had a gorgeous figure. Respect. The vocals were solid. If I could tailor-make a track for her, it would be flawless. Lily carefully studied my face. "Feline Empress, Snow White sang that beautifully, didn't she?" I nodded. "She's definitely good." "But..." The moment that word left my mouth, the atmosphere in the room solidified into ice. Lily gasped for air, asking in a trembling whisper, "Empress... you're not about to say something blasphemous again, are you?" Me: "???" "This song actually isn't a great fit for Snow White. Her tone is a bit thin, and she sang it too pop-heavy. If she altered the bridge like this—ahhh~ ah~ ahhh~—it would carry much more weight." I casually belted out two lines as a demonstration. The live chat numbers started spinning like a slot machine again! Lily and the cameraman exchanged horrified looks. I looked at them, confused. "Our stream numbers are peaking. Why do you guys look like someone died?" Lily looked like she was about to cry. "Ma'am, have you looked at the comments?" I paused, leaning closer to the monitor. "I'm a little nearsighted. Forgot my contacts." [HOLY CRAP, THIS B*TCH IS TOXIC!] [Sienna's songs are NOT for you to casually remix! Your riff didn't even match the lyrics!] [This has to be premeditated. She's using Sienna for clout!] [Sienna is the untouchable holy grail of our industry. How dare she tarnish her work?] [VOCAL THIEF, STAY AWAY FROM MY IDOL!] 10 I was genuinely baffled. "Does Sienna really have this good of a reputation?" Lily leaned in, her face pale. "Ma'am, Sienna is known as the Godmother of all musicians. Her status is unshakable. Your repeated jabs look like you're targeting her, or desperately trying to steal her spotlight." Wait. I have clout in this industry? "This is going to ruin your future career in pop!" Lily warned. I started to regret my choices. Maybe I should have just been a judge? Now I couldn't even speak freely. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the wait. I was practically suffocating. But looking at Lily's pleading puppy-dog eyes, I felt bad. Making a cute girl stress out is a sin. "Feline Empress, please prepare for standby." Finally. Lily helped me up, offering one last pep talk. "Ma'am, I wasn't trying to scare you! This stage respects pure talent. Just give it your all, sing perfectly, and no one can vote you out!" On stage, the host gripped his microphone. "Next up is our final singer of the night, the Feline Empress! She seems to have... unique opinions regarding Ms. Sienna's work. What kind of performance will she bring? Let's find out." The applause, which had been polite and steady all night, suddenly dwindled to almost nothing. I grabbed my mic. Every vein in my body was pulsing with adrenaline. Exciting. Thrilling. A tremor I hadn't felt in years. I thrive on playing against the odds!
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