Within the backstage, a mix of hostile and alarming gazes wasn't spared at all, and they were very wary of his presence. Even their murmurs spoke volumes as they never spared sharing their thought processes.
Their talks continue to litter like trash on the floor, but he paid no mind to it as he needed to focus on one thing.
'These people came from different walks of life and hierarchy, and I don't know what they're thinking at all.'
"Mr. Millard, your station is over here with the garments handpicked for your rehearsal." The man gestured his arms, bowing a tad bit, as he pointed to his area.
Upon coming in, a few attendants would come for his aid, but that wasn't his concern as his eyes particularly caught the garment that popped insight.
"So it shall be this garment, then." Elliot somehow raised the white satiny fabric that draped with elegance. Even grazing his fingertips against it pulsed a great sense of magic power.
