The air in the studio was thick with anticipation. The other contestants whispered to each other and glanced at Shiho as they waited. She had nailed the audition. Everyone knew it. Even the sound engineers had exchanged nods of approval as she delivered her lines.

But Shiho herself didn't feel triumphant. Her mind was blank, still trapped in the memory of the past few days. She barely heard the name of the winner when it was called.

Saki.

It wasn't her name.

A moment of silence. Then polite applause. Murmurs of surprise rippled through the room, but no one had the heart to question the decision out loud. Shiho moved mechanically and clapped with the others, although the sound of her own hands felt hollow. She hadn't even processed what had just happened.

When she snapped back to reality, the room was empty except for Saki who was standing at the recording booth, running her fingers over the script in her hands. Shiho exhaled slowly, forcing herself forward.

"Congratulations," she said with a faint smile, her voice lower than usual.

"Thank you." Saki looked up and replied flatly.

"I know you can do it. Do your best!" Shiho hesitated, but then gave a small nod, only to be met with a sharp, humorless laugh from Saki. "What the hell do you mean, 'do your best'?"

Shiho's smile faltered, surprised by the sudden change in tone. Saki took a step forward, her eyes narrowing. "You think you're more talented than me, don't you?"

Shiho shook her head, but before she could say anything, Saki sneered. "Always putting on the 'good girl' act and not saying anything." Her hand shot out and grabbed Shiho's shoulder, not painfully, but firmly enough to keep her from looking away. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?"

Shiho shook her head. "That's not..."

Saki didn't let her finish. "When the producer called you out?" she pressed, her voice dropping. "You ran away, didn't you?"

Shiho's body stiffened. The memory hit her like a bucket of cold water. His hand on her wrist, the suffocating air of the room, the slap that had echoed louder than she had expected.

Saki scoffed at Shiho's silence. "If you have so little resolve, don't you dare tell me to 'do your best'." She let go and stepped back as if the sight of Shiho disgusted her. "Get the hell out of here."

Shiho barely remembered the train ride home. As soon as she entered her cramped apartment, she dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the bed. The room was dark, except for the faint glow of her computer screen.

She hadn't cried at the studio. She hadn't cried on the way home. But now, in the silence of her own private domicile, the weight of it all pressed down on her. The warm emotions that had been bottled up for too long began to slide quietly down her cheeks.

A soft chime broke the silence as her phone screen lit up.

Incoming video call

Shiho stared at it, her reflection barely visible in the glass, her eyes red and tired. She remembered telling her parents about the audition, how hopeful she had sounded.

Swallowing hard, she wiped her face with her sleeves, inhaled sharply, and forced a faint smile. Then, with steady hands, she answered the call.

"Oh? You’re calling out of nowhere. What’s up?" Her voice was even. Almost cheerful.