Allen woke up to the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand. He groaned, stretched, and then rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering sleepiness. The weak morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft lines across his room. With a grunt, he grabbed his phone and glanced at the screen. He had expected more notifications about his viral video from last night, but this was something different.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw who had sent the message: Brightest Star.
He shot up in bed, staring at the screen. Brightest Star was one of the biggest singing competitions on television, the kind of show that could take a nobody and turn them into a household name. The winner got a contract with a major record label, but even the contestants who didn't win often landed big opportunities.
Allen's hands trembled slightly as he opened the message.
"Hi Allen, we saw your recent viral performance and are interested in speaking with you about joining the next season of Brightest Star. The season starts in one month, and we think you'd be a great fit! If you're interested, we'd love to set up a call to discuss the details."
For a moment, he just stared at his phone, unable to process what he had just read. His viral video from the night before had actually caught the attention of Brightest Star? He'd spent years watching the show, imagining himself on that stage, but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, it felt almost surreal.
Could he actually do this? Was he ready for something this big?
Shaking off the nerves, Allen started typing a response. This was no time to hesitate.
"Hi, thanks for reaching out! I'm definitely interested in learning more about the opportunity. Let me know when would be a good time for the call."
He hit send, then set the phone down and let out a long breath. The message hung in the air like a door opening to a new world. Everything was about to change.
His phone buzzed again. This time it was Benji, his old friend from back in high school.
"Dude! Have you seen this? You're all over the internet!" the message read.
Allen smiled, shaking his head. Leave it to Benji to be the first to notice. He quickly pulled up his browser and typed his name into the search bar. Sure enough, several blogs had already written articles about him. Headlines like "Busker Goes Viral: The Next Big Thing?" and "Allen Rice, From the Streets to Stardom?" filled his screen.
He clicked on one article and skimmed through it. The writer had linked his viral video, calling his performance raw, emotional, and authentic. The views on the video had skyrocketed overnight, now well into the hundreds of thousands. Allen leaned back on his bed, feeling both excited and overwhelmed.
"Holy crap," he muttered. His busking days were finally paying off.
His phone buzzed again. Another message from Benji.
"Sooo… when are you getting a mansion and a private jet?"
Allen laughed out loud. "I wish, man," he texted back. "Let's start with an actual apartment that doesn't smell like ramen and guitar strings."
Setting his phone aside, Allen stood up and stretched. The small, cluttered apartment felt even tinier now that his world was expanding so rapidly. Piles of sheet music, random guitar picks, and empty coffee cups covered the floor. He glanced over at his guitar, leaning against the wall. It was battered, worn from years of playing on street corners and small gigs, but it was still his most prized possession.
The familiar interface of the system appeared in his mind. With 1,750 showbiz points left, Allen knew he needed to make some important decisions. The Brightest Star competition was just a month away, and he needed every advantage he could get. He had already upgraded his vocal talent from 3/10 to 4/10, but there was still so much more he could work on.
He pulled up his stats:
Vocal Talent: 4/10
Guitar: 3/10
Songwriting: 2/10
Charisma: 3/10
Appearance: 4/10
Intelligence: 5/10
He rubbed his chin, thinking through his options. Charisma was going to be huge if he wanted to win over the judges and the audience. On top of that, songwriting was crucial. Contestants who performed original music on the show always stood out, and he couldn't just rely on covers if he wanted to make an impression.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Let's do this."
Upgrading his songwriting from 2/10 to 3/10 would cost 100 showbiz points. He knew it wasn't a huge jump, but it was better than nothing. He mentally confirmed the upgrade, watching as the points deducted and his songwriting stat increased.
Now down to 1,650 points, Allen turned his attention to charisma. He needed to be likable on camera. This wasn't just about singing—this was about becoming someone people wanted to root for. It would take 1,000 points to upgrade his charisma from 3/10 to 4/10, but it was a worthwhile investment.
He made the upgrade, leaving him with 650 showbiz points. Not enough to make any big changes, but he decided to hold onto them for now. He might need them for last-minute improvements later.
His phone buzzed again, pulling him out of the system interface. It was another message from the Brightest Star team.
"Great! We can set up a call tomorrow at 3 PM. Let us know if that works for you."
Allen's stomach fluttered. This was it. The door was opening, and now it was up to him to step through. He quickly typed back, "3 PM works for me. Looking forward to it."
He tossed his phone onto the bed and ran a hand through his messy hair. The excitement was starting to build again, but so was the pressure. Brightest Star wasn't just some local talent show. This was national. The whole country would be watching, judging every note, every movement, every expression.
Pacing his small apartment, Allen let the reality of it sink in. The viral video had given him a taste of what it felt like to be seen by thousands, but Brightest Star would be a different level altogether. Millions would be watching. There'd be critics, trolls, and people looking for reasons to tear him down. But there would also be fans—people who believed in him and wanted to see him succeed.
He grabbed his guitar, strumming a few chords to calm his nerves. The familiar sound filled the room, grounding him. Music had always been his escape, his way of dealing with everything life threw at him. Now, it was his ticket out of this tiny apartment and into a future he could barely imagine.
But could he really do it? Could he handle the pressure of national television, competing against some of the best singers in the country?
He strummed again, the notes lingering in the air. He had no choice but to try. This was the chance he'd been waiting for, and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Allen spent hours working on new songs, tweaking old ones, and mentally preparing for the call with the Brightest Star producers. He ran through scenarios in his head, imagining what questions they might ask and how he would answer. He needed to come across as confident but humble, talented but not arrogant. The balance was tricky, but he knew how important first impressions were.
That night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced with possibilities, with dreams of what could come next. Just a month ago, he was another struggling musician with no clear path forward. Now, he had a viral video, a potential spot on the biggest singing competition in the country, and thousands of people watching his every move.
As exhaustion finally pulled him under, one thought kept repeating in his mind: This is your shot. Don't blow it.
The next morning, Allen woke to the sound of his phone buzzing again. His heart skipped a beat as he grabbed it, half expecting more messages from Brightest Star. But instead, it was Benji.
"Yo, you ready for your big call today? Don't forget to wear pants. They can still see you through the phone."
Allen laughed, grateful for the bit of humor to cut through his nerves. He replied, "Thanks for the reminder. I'll make sure I don't accidentally show up in boxers."
Benji texted back immediately, "Good. Also, break a leg. You got this, man."
Allen smiled, setting the phone down. He still had a few hours before the call, but the nerves were already setting in. Today could be the start of everything he had ever wanted. All he had to do was show up, be himself, and not let the pressure get to him.
Easier said than done.