The real spectacle wasn’t just the guy stripped to his boxers—it was the other one, equally underdressed, grabbing him and shrieking like a lunatic.
The second guy, clearly furious, had ripped off his own clothes in the heat of the moment. Clad in nothing but his underwear, he lunged at the first man, screaming and clawing like a madman, leaving angry red welts across his chest and back.
To anyone watching without context, it looked disturbingly intimate.
During the earlier chaos, the bizarre brawl had gone unnoticed. But now, with Paige gone and the room settling, everyone’s attention landed squarely on the sight of two nearly naked men locked in a desperate embrace.
“Oh my God!” The crowd gasped, recoiling in horror and confusion.
“Ahhh!” Both men screamed in sync, shoved each other away, and bolted out of the venue like their lives depended on it—howling the entire way. Laughter and secondhand embarrassment rippled through the room.
Onstage, Clement wiped a hand across his sweaty brow and shot Elliana a sheepish glance. “Sorry you had to witness that, Rosa.”
Elliana let out a soft laugh. “It’s alright.” She brushed it off, but inside, she was cracking up. When she’d dropped that video, she hadn’t anticipated it would trigger this level of chaos. It was absurd and absolutely hilarious.
Even the judges looked stunned, their faces flushed. This was, without a doubt, the most chaotic day of their professional lives.
The host stood frozen, clearly at a loss on how to steer the finals back on track.
Thankfully, Clement stepped forward to take the reins. He surveyed the wreckage of the hall and then forced a smile that barely masked his nerves. “Alright, everyone, let’s take a breath. A couple of idiots tried to steal the spotlight, sure—but with Rosa here, this is still the brightest competition we’ve ever had. Please, take your seats.” His voice was steady, soothing—like a breeze that cut through the lingering tension. Slowly, the crowd settled. People exchanged sheepish glances, as if waking from a shared delirium.
One brave soul sat down. Then another. Before long, the hall had mostly returned to order.
With the chaos behind them, it was finally time to get back on track—to name the champion and runner-up.
ρα ? ν
Clement took the mic again, now assuming full hosting duties. He turned toward the judges. “Shall we proceed with selecting the winners?”
The judges gathered briefly before Luca stepped forward as their spokesperson. “Rosa’s oil painting skills are frankly beyond us.
Evaluating her work feels almost out of place in this competition…” Luca paused, glancing at Elliana, clearly deferring to her decision.
Elliana spoke up without hesitation. “I never intended to compete. I only entered to expose Luciano’s fraud. I’m withdrawing Lonely Sunset from the running. Let the contest play out as it should.” The judges let out a collective sigh of relief. A visible wave of relief passed through the judges.
Clement gave a respectful nod. “Rosa, do you have any advice for the competition?”
Elliana’s gaze shifted to Riding the Waves, credited to Paige. Her voice was calm but pointed. “The brushwork is unmistakably Ethan’s. He’s been through a lot. Art should be something that helps him heal.” The judges exchanged thoughtful looks and nodded in agreement.
“Don’t worry, Rosa. Even with Paige disqualified, Riding the Waves stays in the running and will be judged fairly. I’ll personally verify the true artist and make sure the prize money ends up in the right hands,” Clement assured her.
Elliana gave a small nod. “Thanks, Clement.”
He waved it off with a modest smile. “Just doing my job. Come on, Rosa—join us in the VIP seats for the rest of the show.”
Elliana wasn’t particularly eager to stay. But with Lonely Sunset still on display, walking out felt like abandonment. So, she accepted his invitation and took her seat beside him in the VIP section. With Lonely Sunset officially withdrawn, the rest of the competition progressed without a hitch.
After thorough deliberation, the panel unanimously awarded Riding the Waves the top honor at the Starry Oil Painting Competition. Brick Bridge by Bentlee, which had originally placed third, was elevated to runner-up.
The reshuffle nudged Hailee’s piece from sixth to fifth place. That boost came with a thirty-thousand-dollar bump in prize money—raising her winnings from two hundred to two hundred thirty grand.
To Hailee, it felt like manna from heaven. Still dazed from the revelation that Elliana was actually Rosa, the unexpected windfall only added to her mental whiplash.
But her quiet meltdown went unnoticed—overshadowed by the bigger headline.
Just as the final applause settled, someone from the audience stood and shouted, “Rosa, I’ll give thirty million for Lonely Sunset! Will you sell it?”
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