She ignored the spectators enjoying the show or giving her odd looks and directed her gaze to Mia, who was smugly basking in the attention on the field.
She couldn't help but sneer inwardly: This girl is really overflowing with confidence; she hasn't even started dancing but already has the posture of a victor.
"You'll soon find out whether I can dance. Just watch closely; don't get so angry that your nose gets twisted."
Luna Sutton's lips curled with thick sarcasm. She wasn't anxious to step onto the stage; instead, she stood there with her arms crossed.
Seeing Mia standing on the field, her complexion twisted and contorted in anger, her gaze fiery as she glared at her, Luna wasn't bothered in the slightest.
She lifted her eyelids and rather impatiently urged, "If you're going to dance, hurry up. Quit dragging your feet. Could it be that you're getting cold feet at the last moment and don't dare to dance?"
