Richie stretched, yawning and squinting as he fiddled with the pencils on the table.
The judge on the other side of the one-way glass breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Richie had woken up.
The other two judges, both loyal to Old Swan, exchanged glances when they saw Richie wake up, inwardly crying out in dismay.
One of them quickly came up with a malicious plan.
He warmly invited the judge who wanted to help Richie to have some tea.
Ten minutes later, Richie finished composing.
There were still five minutes before they drew lots for the performance order, and Richie looked thoroughly satisfied.
Outside the one-way glass, the judge who had drunk the tea suddenly developed a stomachache and urgently needed the bathroom.
The two remaining judges loyal to Old Swan smiled and urged their colleague to hurry along. There were only five minutes left anyway, and they would keep a close watch to make sure nothing happened.
Once that judge left, the other two smiled in triumph.
When the hour was up, a staff member led Richie out.
The notes on the sheet music atop the piano were still dancing, before finally vanishing into endless darkness.
"The most exciting moment has arrived! Our three finalists have now finished composing. Next, they'll draw lots to decide the order of their performances."
The host was a pretty young woman, and a single sentence from her set the whole audience buzzing.
Richie stood at center stage with the other two children, a spotlight shining on each of them.
Richie had never felt anything like this before, with every eye on him. Though the audience below was hidden in darkness, their cheers were deafening, as if they might blow the roof off.
He would carry his father's hopes with him and