One of the guys in the group, a blond dude sporting a hip-hop getup but known for his rock vocals during tryouts, was especially antsy.

Having been overlooked by the big-shot agencies, he was under the wing of a lesser-known outfit.

His spirits had taken a hit since the previous night.

Restless, he began to pace, his patience thinning by the second.

“Where on earth is she? Reckon she’s left us high and dry? If she’s given up on us, she could at least have the decency to tell us!” he exclaimed.

Tom Rivas couldn’t contain his exasperation any longer, slumping to the floor in defeat. He grumbled, “Joining her team was a mistake.

Even if I’d been kicked out during the auditions, it would have been better than this public embarrassment. The net’s buzzing with ridicule about us. Why are we even still here?”

Brucie Armstrong, sitting nearby, flexed his muscular arms beneath his sleeveless shirt.

spirits were palpable.

others at the auditions? How

the group’s spirits dampened, Woodrow tried to

Better to try and fail than not try at all. Giving up now means we’ve truly

derisive snort, looking at him with thinly veiled

barely face a

Woodrow struggled to respond. Tom’s disdain for the brothers was evident as he continued to mock, “Thinking of

Keep your ill-informed comments to yourself,” Franklin defended, quickly escalating the exchange into a

the midst of the heated debate, Brucie’s voice

We shouldn’t even be

palpable as Tom continued venting

I could’ve spent my time better sleeping. And last night, I looked up her company, this ‘Landon Media,‘ I’ve never heard of it! Probably just some dubious

perch on a nearby couch, a young man named Jim Woden, distinguishable by his weary eyes and single eyelids, had silently

when you secured your positions yesterday. What good does shouting do now?

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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