<🎧 Song Recommendation: Bridge Over Troubled Water (Cover by Eva Cassidy). To be sung in the chapter.>
...
(Miami Convention Center - 7:00 AM)
It was a zoo.
That was the only way Von could describe the scene before him.
The sun hadn't even fully risen over the Miami skyline, but the concrete plaza outside the Convention Center was already packed to the brim.
There were thousands of people; dreamers, weirdos, and desperate souls, all clamoring for a shot at stardom.
Von had just received his number from the registration booth and currently stood in a queue that seemed infinite. Holding his guitar tightly, he felt odd, almost underdressed, even in his plain black t-shirt and jeans.
Why?
Because standing directly to his left was a man dressed as a life-sized banana.
And to his right was a girl in a full Gothic Lolita maid outfit, holding a stuffed cat that she was actively having a conversation with.
"Everyone be doing too much," Von couldn't help but mutter.
Cameras were flashing everywhere. Crew members from Project Star were weaving through the lines, filming B-roll footage for the show. Because of that, everyone wanted to be noticed.
Some of them weren't even interested in the actual auditions; they just wanted to get on TV. That was why they wore the costumes. If you looked ridiculous enough, you might get five seconds of screen time in the "Bloopers Montage."
Von looked down at the sticker on his chest.
#1029
Even though he had arrived as early as 6:30 AM, he was still beaten by over a thousand people. And to think that some from neighboring cities had traveled to Miami just for this.
Von sighed. At least it wasn't as bad as his past life. Back then, his turn never came even after waiting until they closed the doors at 7 PM. He had been forced to come back the next day and wait all over again, only to be rejected in seconds.
He looked at the banana man, who was already sweating.
'I pity all of those putting on costumes,' Von thought. 'They'll feel it when the sun rises.'
(Five Hours Later)
The sun was high now, baking the pavement and the excitement in the air had naturally curdled into exhaustion.
Makeup was melting. The banana man had taken off his peel headpiece and was fanning himself with it, looking like a half-peeled, sweaty mess.
Many others that were singing loudly earlier had long since stopped and were now sitting on folding chairs, complaining about their hips and dehydration.
But Von was still standing. He didn't even feel tired.
Thanks to his better Physique, standing for five hours was merely a warm-up. What he felt above anything was boredom, so he had taken the time to observe the competition.
[Name: Unknown]
[Vocals: F]
[Skill: None]
[Name: Unknown]
[Vocals: E-]
[Skill: None]
Most of the people he saw were average. Although he saw some people who had slightly better stats than him, none of them stood out.
Until he looked at the girl sitting on the curb a few feet away.
[Name: Unknown]
[Vocals: B+]
[Skill: Tidal Hymn]
● Description: The user's music mimics the restorative flow of the ocean, projecting raw emotion that heals the soul.
Von was speechless.
He had scanned hundreds, if not thousands, of people today. The highest grade he had seen was a base C. But here was someone four levels above that!
The girl was dressed in a simple, flowy sundress. She oddly had blue hair with purple highlights that looked natural. She was sitting quietly on the curb, reading a thick book and completely ignoring the chaos around her.
She had a certain presence to her. It was like she wasn't just avoiding the noise, but the noise was actively avoiding her. There was a bubble of calm around her that Von could almost feel.
'Talent is everywhere,' Von realized with a wry smile. 'My D-plus vocals are nothing compared to that.'
But he had skills. Something that none of them except her had. So Von hoped that would be enough.
Finally, a staff member with a megaphone walked down the line.
"Group 102! Follow me! Have your ID and registration number ready!"
Von adjusted his guitar strap and smiled. "It's showtime."
***
They were led inside the building, down a maze of hallways until they reached the audition room.
It wasn't the glamorous TV set Von had seen on screen. It was a large, partitioned conference room that didn't look well-polished at all.
The room was divided into ten "lanes" by flimsy curtains. At the end of the room, facing the lanes, sat a Producer with a grumpy and tired face that screamed "underpaid worker."
The Producer drank from the styrofoam cup on his desk, scribbled something on a large notebook, and looked up with dead eyes.
"Okay, listen up. You have only thirty seconds to impress me. I don't want to hear your introductions. Just sing. Understood?"
Everyone nodded from their respective lanes.
"Lane 1, go."
Lane 1 held a man dressed up as an elf. He didn't hold an instrument. He just approached the microphone stand and began.
"Is this real life, baby!"
"Can you—"
"Stop," the Producer said. He didn't even look up as he wrote in his notebook. "Next."
The man tried to plead, opening his mouth to argue, but the Producer just pointed at the exit. The Elf humbled himself quickly and left, dragging his feet.
Von sighed in pity as he looked at the man's watery eyes. He remembered back then he had tried to fight with the guards and had embarrassed himself after earning a "second chance" that he blew.
'At least the dude respected himself,' Von thought.
"Lane 2," the judge called out.
The person in Lane 2 was the blue-haired girl Von had met outside. The one with B+ Vocals. Von paid close attention; he was genuinely curious to hear what such a talent sounded like.
The girl stepped forward. She didn't look nervous. She reached into her bag and brought out a silver flute Von hadn't known she had.
Shocking everyone, she began playing.
🎼 Fweeee... da-da-dum... 🎼
The sound wasn't shrill. It was deep, breathy, and flowed with an undeniable frequency. It felt like cool water washing over the stuffy room.
Even though the tune the flute produced was soft and melodic, the judge frowned. He opened his mouth, about to remind her that this was a singing audition.
But before he could speak, she lowered the flute and let her voice take over the frequency seamlessly.
🎤 ♪
When you're weary... feeling small...
When tears are in your eyes...
I will dry them all...
🎤 ♪
Her voice was even clearer than the flute. For the few seconds she sang, everyone in the room froze. It wasn't powerful, but it carried a softness that gave them goosebumps. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off their shoulders.
She brought the flute back to her lips.
🎼 Fweeee... da-da-dum... 🎼
The judge didn't stop her. He stared at her, entranced, his pen hovering over the paper. He didn't realize she had reached the time limit until the flute stopped echoing.
He shook his head, clearing the trance.
"Next. Lane 3."
The girl bowed slightly and left quietly, blending into the shadows.
The next few people went by in a blur. None of the other contestants were allowed to use their whole thirty seconds.
"Stop. Next."
"Stop. Next."
"Next, Lane 9."
Von didn't need to be told twice. He stepped forward and with his Title equipped, he felt the familiarity of the stage settle over him.
He immediately began plucking the strings of his guitar with elegance.
🎸 ♪ 🎸 ♪
The only time I sat and waited for the sunrise
Was when I saw the fear of leaving in your brown eyes
🎸 ♪
Seeing that the man wasn't interrupting him, Von continued to the next verse.
[Resonance active]
The effect was subtle but immediate. He could see it in the Judge's expression. The tiredness in the man's eyes seemed to fade slightly, replaced by focus.
The other contestants in the waiting area stopped fidgeting and looked at him.
That gave Von more confidence.
🎸 ♪
This is just separation, babe, it's all fine
Making quiet calculations on the long drive
🎸 ♪
Von closed his eyes, leaning into the melody.
"Stop."
The Judge snapped out of it, realizing he had let Von play for nearly forty-five seconds. He smacked his forehead lightly, annoyed at himself for getting distracted.
He wrote something down quickly.
"Next."
Von bowed with a proud smile. He slung his guitar over his shoulder and walked out of the lane.
"Nailed it," he whispered to himself as he exited the room. "Now all I gotta do is wait for the email and see if I make it to the second audition rounds."