<🎧 Song Recommendation: Outro by M83>
...
(February 24th — Miami International Airport)
Project Star wasn't taking any chances with logistics. The production team had booked out fifty seats on a commercial flight for all the Miami qualifiers, effectively turning a section of the aircraft into a chaotic field trip for aspiring superstars.
They had been informed of the strict schedule days in advance, so by 9:00 AM, the terminal was buzzing with contestants.
Von stood near the drop-off curb, his new leather travel bag slung over one shoulder. He looked up at the massive glass façade of the terminal, feeling a strange flutter in his stomach.
This would be the first time he would ever leave Miami, or even step foot on an aircraft. The concept of flying felt surreal to him, and it was a luxury he had only ever seen in movies or watched from the ground.
"Well," Zack said, leaning against the passenger door of his beat-up sedan. He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight and clearly hating the noise and the crowd. "This is it."
"This is it," Von repeated. He adjusted his sunglasses, hiding the slight wideness of his eyes as he took in the scene.
"Try not to get eliminated in the first week," Zack deadpanned. "I already rented out your side of the room to a guy named Steve. He has a pet iguana..."
"You're a terrible liar, Zack."
"Just... don't do anything stupid," Zack muttered. He hesitated for a moment as the silence stretched out, before he awkwardly punched Von in the shoulder. "Go be a star, idiot."
"Watch me," Von grinned, returning the punch with equal weight.
"I'll be watching," Zack said quietly.
With a final wave, Von turned his back on the curb and walked toward the check-in counters.
As he moved through the automatic doors, a sudden wave of emotion hit him. Over these past few weeks, his relationship with Zack had shifted.
He had been there when Von was at his lowest, making him regret taking him for granted in his former life. He no longer felt like just a roommate, or even just a friend. He felt like the brother Von never had.
Von swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on the mission ahead.
He navigated security and found his gate. Boarding was a blur of scanning passes and shuffling down the narrow aisle.
"Sir, please put your phone in airplane mode and fasten your seatbelt," a flight attendant said with a smile as she walked past his row.
"Right, got it," Von said.
His internal monologue about his future was cut short as the engines roared to life. He quickly followed the procedure, his hands gripping the armrests tightly as the plane began to taxi.
***
The flight from Miami to Los Angeles took nearly six hours.
Von had hoped to sit next to another contestant to maybe gauge the competition or make an alliance, but luck wasn't on his side.
He was wedged between an elderly woman knitting a scarf and a businessman who fell asleep before the wheels even left the tarmac.
It was mostly boring. Von spent the time staring out the window at the clouds, listening to music, and mentally reviewing the lyrics to every song in his repertoire.
He dozed off somewhere over Texas and woke up just as the captain announced their descent into LAX.
When they landed, the production team was waiting. They were herded like cattle onto chartered buses and shuttled through the gridlocked LA traffic to a massive hotel in downtown Los Angeles.
However, they didn't check in immediately. Instead, the staff directed them into a large banquet hall on the ground floor.
"Please wait here! Do not wander off!" a producer shouted over the din.
Von found a seat near the back. The room filled up progressively, the noise level rising as contestants from other cities arrived. It was a mix of warm-ups, nervous laughter, and aggressive networking.
After about fifteen minutes, the doors were closed and the room was packed.
A woman in a sharp navy suit walked onto the small stage at the front of the room. She tapped the microphone, and the feedback screech silenced the crowd instantly.
"Welcome to Los Angeles," she said, her voice professional but welcoming. "And congratulations to each and every one of you for making it this far."
A ripple of applause went through the room.
"I know you must all be exhausted from your flights," she continued, raising a hand to settle them down. "We will keep this brief. We just need to take a few minutes to confirm your registration and sign the final housing agreements. After that, you will be given your keys and allowed to go to your rooms to rest."
She paused, scanning the room. "Regarding housing: for this stage of the competition, you have the freedom to choose your own roommate. Each room must consist of two persons of the same gender. Once you have found a partner, approach the registration desk together."
The room immediately erupted into chaos as people scrambled to find friends they had met at auditions or people who looked normal enough to live with.
Von stood up, scanning the crowd. He was about to approach a random guy standing near the water cooler when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He turned around to see a familiar face. A head of coily caramel hair and a charming, relieved smile.
"Hey, you... Julian," Von said, surprised.
Julian smiled, adjusting his designer backpack. "Yep, it's me. I've been looking for you for a while."
"I could swear I didn't see you at the airport in Miami," Von said, raising an eyebrow. "Let me guess. You flew private?"
Julian looked a bit embarrassed to admit it, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah... I did. My dad insisted. Anyway, you got a partner yet? Wanna be roommates?"
Von didn't see any negatives in the suggestion. Julian was clean, polite, and undeniably one of the top dogs in this competition. Being close to him helped a lot on the long run.
"Sure, why not?" Von nodded. "Let's go get a key before the line gets too long."
They made their way to the front, signed the papers, and were handed two plastic key cards.
"Room 452," the registrar said. "Third floor."
They took the elevator up and navigated the hallway until they found the door. Von swiped the card, and the light turned green.
The room was... standard. It had two normal sized beds with white linens, a single wooden reading table with one chair, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a small ensuite bathroom. It was clean and functional, but it certainly wasn't the Ritz.
Julian walked in, dropped his expensive bag on the bed, and looked around with wide eyes.
"Wow," Julian said, bouncing slightly on the mattress. "I love it. It's so cozy."
Von closed the door, locking it behind them. He raised an eyebrow at Julian's enthusiasm. "Better than the room in your mansion?"
Julian's smile faltered slightly, his voice dropping to a softer, more earnest tone. "It's simple. That's why I like it. Just... normal."
Von watched him for a second, realizing the guy wasn't being sarcastic. He actually craved normalcy.
Von chuckled, patting Julian on the shoulder as he walked past him. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts, bruh. Cause we'll be moving to the Star Mansion when we pass Hollywood Week."
The format of the show was common knowledge. The Top 24 survivors of this week would move into a luxury villa in the Hollywood Hills, where they would live together while filming the live shows, complete with 24/7 streaming cameras and drama.
Julian sat on the edge of the bed with a distant look in his eyes. "Hopefully we make it," he whispered, clasping his hands together. "God willing."
His humble words made Von smile wryly. Their stats were like day and night, yet he was the less worried one.
But Von still wasn't nervous. He knew the mechanics of the world. The show meant cameras. Cameras meant fans. And fans equaled EXP. That was the stage he was waiting for.
"Yeah. Let's hope," Von said, waving a hand dismissively as he grabbed a towel from his bag. "I'm gonna take a shower first."
They had to be downstairs in two hours, so he decided not to waste time.
___
[A/N]
Alright, you have a deal.
For every 50 Power Stones, there'll be 1 Bonus Chapter. 😉
...make me regret this. ;)