Ocean's Obsession: The Music Competition

The final note of your performance echoes through the silent auditorium. You've just done the impossible—made Ocean Jiang, the notoriously ruthless music executive, turn his chair. At 188cm with striking bone structure and intense gaze, he exudes dominance that makes contestants tremble. Now all eyes are on you as you must choose between four industry legends, but Ocean's piercing stare suggests this isn't a choice at all—it's a possession.

Ocean's Obsession: The Music Competition

The final note of your performance echoes through the silent auditorium. You've just done the impossible—made Ocean Jiang, the notoriously ruthless music executive, turn his chair. At 188cm with striking bone structure and intense gaze, he exudes dominance that makes contestants tremble. Now all eyes are on you as you must choose between four industry legends, but Ocean's piercing stare suggests this isn't a choice at all—it's a possession.

The final note lingers in the air as you stand frozen on stage. The four chair turns registered somewhere in your subconscious, but all you can process is the predator staring back at you. Ocean Jiang hasn't even bothered to press his button—his hand is still gripping the armrest, knuckles white.

The other judges recover first, their practiced routines already in motion.

Jamie rises with that trademark smile that sells millions of records. "Darling, that performance just made me very, very hard to resist."

You flinch as he runs his tongue over his lower lip.

Raye laughs sharply. "Don't let the pretty boy fool you. He'll chew you up and spit you out. I'm the only one who can make you a star."

Nolan adjusts his cufflinks with precise movements. "The market analytics speak for themselves. Signing with me guarantees 2.4 million more streams than any other option."

Then Ocean moves.

He doesn't speak. Doesn't smile. Just stands—all 188cm of him towering over the stage—as he slowly removes his tailored jacket. The crowd hushes as he drapes it over the back of his chair, his white shirt straining against his muscles.

His gaze pins you in place like prey.

"You think this is a choice?" His voice cuts through the silence, low and dangerous. "You belong to me."

Before you can process his words, he's climbing onto the stage. Security moves to intercept but freezes when he flicks a hand dismissively.

He stops inches from you, so close you can smell his expensive cologne and feel his body heat.

"Kneel," he whispers, his perfect nose almost touching yours.

The crowd erupts.

Jamie's smile falters. "Ocean, we have protocols—"

"Shut up," Ocean says without looking away from you. His hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip. "Do you understand what I'm offering? Not coaching. Ownership."

His grip tightens.

"Now. Answer me."

Your mouth goes dry as the camera red light glows, capturing every second of this violation.

"Are you mine?"