Imdiately upon walking backstage, a wave of light hit Von so hard he had to shield his eyes.
Opening them, he saw Michael Ray step out from behind a partition with a caraman trailing closely behind him. The host was grinning like a shark who slled blood; or in this case, good television.
"Look at that face!" Michael shouted, shoving a microphone toward Von. "The cara doesn’t lie! Is that what I think it is?"
Von blinked, snapping into performance mode. He held up the shimring gold card, letting the hallway lights catch the foil print.
"Yeah, I got it," Von said coolly. "I’m going to Hollywood."
"Woohoo!" Michael pumped his fists into the air, celebrating like he was the one who had just won the lottery.
"It was a spectacular audition from you back there, and despite your initial tension with Rex Sterling, you still managed to earn a yes from him! Tell us about it. Did he make you nervous?"
Von responded instantly with a laugh. "Nervous? Hell, nah. I think he did try to eat alive with his eyes, but I gave him indigestion." He smirked as he added.
Michael laughed, delighted. "Such confidence! I love you already! So now you’ve made it this far, do you have anyone that you owe gratitude to?"
Von nodded and his expression softened.
"First and foremost, I’d like to thank myself for being brave enough to co here and giving my best. And I’ll also like to thank my roommate, Zack. He might be a bit of a control freak, but he helped a lot."
He paused, looking directly into the lens.
"And last but not least, the greatest thanks goes to my sis. I wouldn’t be here without her." He smiled. "Thank you, Nana."
"Shoutout to Nana!" Michael yelled into the mic. "So before you leave, any promise to the viewers?"
Von went into thought for a split second before answering. "All I have to say is... I’m ready to go all the way!"
Michael turned to the cara. "Alright, folks. You heard him. Watch out for Von Varley! We’ll see you in Los Angeles."
"Thank you," Von replied as the cara light dimd. He shook hands with Michael, where the host told him congratulations once more before rushing off to prep for the next exit.
"Varley!"
A woman with a clipboard and a headset waved him over to a folding table set up near the exit. She looked exhausted, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. This was Sarah, one of the Senior Producers.
"Congratulations," she said quickly, handing him a heavy red folder. "Inside this are your flight itineraries, hotel brochures, and a contract that you need to sign."
She tapped the folder with a pen. "We’ve booked you on a flight to depart for Los Angeles on February 24th. That’s in about two weeks."
Von absorbed the information, clutching the folder.
"Pack for a month long stay at least," Sarah continued. "Once you land, the production team covers your hotel and basic feeding. Be at the airport at 6:00 AM sharp. Don’t be late, or we fly without you."
Von nodded, his mind already racing through a checklist. "Okay. I’ll be ready."
(Lincoln Road Mall — February 22nd)
"Why did you decide to follow to the mall again?" Von asked, adjusting his sunglasses as he stepped out of the Uber.
Zack stepped out behind him, looking entirely out of place amidst the palm trees and high-end fashion tourists. He was dressed in his usual "library chic", a faded gray hoodie, cargo pants, and worn-out sneakers. He rolled his eyes at Von.
"Nothing," Zack deadpanned. "I just decided to abandon the three textbooks I planned to read today to personally escort you to the mall. I am simply a benevolent servant."
"Mtchew," Von hissed, suppressing a smile. "Be serious."
Zack sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I also wanted to buy so stuff. There’s a new release from Patrick Anderson, and the bookstore here is doing a signed copy event. I can’t miss it."
"And I might buy so non-perishable food stuff while I’m at it. Since you’ll be traveling, I might as well start cooking now."
Von humd. "How interesting. You’re already planning your life without ."
"It will be a peaceful life," Zack retorted, though there was no heat in it.
They walked past the outdoor cafes and fountains until they reached the intersection where the large bookstore stood opposite a massive departnt store.
"Alright," Zack said, pointing toward the books. "My destiny lies that way. Good luck with your... transformation."
"We’ll et at the food court when we’re done," Von said.
"Don’t spend all your money in one place, Rockstar," Zack called out over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
Von took a deep breath and turned toward the clothing store.
His flight was in just two days, and looking at his closet that morning, he had realized a painful truth: he had nothing to wear. His old clothes were either threadbare or, thanks to his recent physical changes awkwardly tight around the shoulders and chest.
He had saved up $900 from his recent busking sessions and selling those electronics.
His plan now was to spend at most $600. It was a large sum for a student, but considering he was about to be on national television, it was an investnt.
He needed to look like he belonged in Hollywood.
Von entered the store, the blast of cool air conditioning hitting him. He bypassed the luxury section, since he wasn’t crazy, and headed for the mid-range streetwear.
He moved thodically. He wasn’t looking for flash; he was looking for versatility.
He picked out a distressed denim jacket that fit his new fra perfectly, accentuating his broader shoulders.
He grabbed two pairs of black slim-fit jeans, three plain fitted t-shirts in white, charcoal, and maroon, and a pair of sleek black sneakers for $50 that looked expensive but were surprisingly comfortable.
His biggest expense was a sturdy, leather-trimd travel bag that cost $110. It was practical, but it looked professional.
As Von was carrying his pile of clothes toward the fitting rooms, movent near the accessories aisle caught his eye.
Through the glass display of the high-end watch section, he saw soone familiar.
It was a boy about his age, maybe a year older. He was striking; light-skinned with a mop of perfectly defined, coily caral-colored hair.
He was wearing a linen shirt that probably cost more than Von’s entire tuition, but he wore it casually with its sleeves rolled up.
Von recognized him imdiately. He was Number 27. The guy who had gone in right before him.
Von still rembered what he saw that day.
[Na: Unknown]
[Vocals: B]
[Skill: Harmonic Charisma]
● Description: A vocalist born with a golden charm. His presence naturally draws admiration from those around him.
Aside from the blue-haired girl he had seen in the preliminary auditions, this guy was the only other person in the entire audition process with stats this monstrous.
Von smiled wryly as he watched Julian inspect a pair of sunglasses. ’I bet he qualified easily. Now he’s doing his ’LA Prep’ shopping too. Small world.’
Suddenly, Julian turned his head and their eyes t through the glass.
’Oh, fuck. He saw staring.’
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