Unconscious Husband: Meet Her Love In Silence by Ken Slaner

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.

low spirits were palpable. He remarked, “Unless a miracle

others at the auditions? How do we

the group’s spirits dampened, Woodrow tried

a stage meant just for us. We can’t lose hope now. Better to try and fail than not try at all. Giving up now

derisive snort, looking at him

a camera, and

“Thinking of winning,

got a clue about comedy? Keep your ill-informed comments to yourself,” Franklin defended,

heated debate, Brucie’s voice cut through the

point? We shouldn’t even be here. The blame is

the room was palpable as Tom

dawn and then vanished. I could’ve spent my time better sleeping. And last night, I looked up

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

a cold stare, he challenged, “You weren’t griping when you secured your positions