The week flashed by in almost an instant, as Friday arrived.
7:00 AM
Liam stood by the familiar lamppost, bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for air. Sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking into the neckline of his t-shirt.
He straightened up, wiping his brow with his sleeve, a triumphant grin on his face.
"Nice," he panted. "I broke yesterday's record… it took me ten minutes of running before I gassed out." His voice filled with pride and exhaustion.
He leaned against the cold metal of the lamppost, letting the cool air relieve him.
"Ahh feels so nice," He said, with a happy expression as he cooled down.
"The progress has been steady," he muttered to himself, nodding in satisfaction.
A week ago, he could barely jog for five minutes without feeling like his lungs were about to burst.
Now, he could double that.
"Improvement, however small, is still an improvement."
After a few moments to catch his breath, he straightened and began the slow walk home.
His pace was leisurely, his legs sore but his spirits high. He glanced at his reflection in a shop window as he passed, catching sight of his haircut it was a neat, layered style.
He smirked. "Better than that emo mop I had before," he thought.
Back home, Liam tossed his sneakers near the door and made his way to the bathroom.
The hot shower was a nice quick relief, the steam easing the tension in his muscles from the running he had been doing for the past week.
"There's four hours left," he muttered, running a hand through his wet hair.
"I'll shower, dress into something nice, and make sure my hair doesn't look like a disaster." He paused, considering his plan.
"It's better to be early than late. I can rehearse there if I have time."
He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before heading to his bedroom.
The outfit he had picked out the night before, a crisp button-down shirt and tailored pants—was neatly folded on the chair.
He dressed with care, smoothing out wrinkles and checking the fit in the mirror.
"Looking good," he said, adjusting the collar. A faint smirk played on his lips as he leaned closer to inspect his reflection. His hair, freshly cut, was easy to style now. With a bit of gel, he combed it into place, the sleek look adding a polished touch.
7:30 AM
By the time he was fully ready, the clock on the wall read 7:30 AM.
He slung his bag over his shoulder, taking one last glance around the apartment to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
"It'll take me two hours to get there," he muttered, locking the door behind him. "Might as well leave now. Better to get there early and rehearse than risk running late."
The streets were beginning to stir with the usual morning activity, commuters, and delivery vans.
Liam flagged down a bus, tapping his phone against the fare scanner as he stepped aboard. He found a seat near the window and got comfortable, pulling out his phone to glance at the script one more time.
Occasionally, he glanced at his reflection in the window, his lips forming the words of Victor Callahan's tortured monologue.
"I never wanted this for you…" he murmured under his breath, barely audible over the hum of the engine.
This time, he nodded, satisfied. "Better," he whispered.
The new audition venue was in a sleek office building downtown, its glass facade gleaming in the morning light. Liam stepped off the bus, his gaze fixed on the entrance. His nerves bubbled beneath the surface, but he pushed them down.
Inside, the lobby was bustling. Aspirants like himself sat scattered across the room, some flipping through scripts, others murmuring lines under their breath. The tension was palpable, but it didn't faze Liam. He found a quiet corner near a large potted plant and set his bag down, pulling out the script for one last rehearsal.
Time ticked by as he worked through the lines, his focus unwavering. He didn't notice the occasional glances from others, some curious, others sizing him up.
For Liam, the world outside the script had faded away.
By the time the clock struck 10:00 AM, a voice called out from the reception desk. "Liam West, please proceed to the audition room."
He took a deep breath, standing up and fixing his shirt.
His heartbeat quickened, but a small smile formed on his lips.
"Showtime," he murmured, stepping toward the room.
The time slowly passed by, as Liam waited for it to hit 11:00.
10:59 am
11:01 am
The bright lights hit Liam as he stepped onto the stage, momentarily blinding him.
The stage was large, much larger than he had imagined, with an audience of fifty to eighty people seated.
At the far end of the stage sat the familiar judges with red buzzers in front of them.
The host, had a bright smile on his face as he extended a welcoming hand towards Liam.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice echoing across the room, "please give a warm welcome to our next participant, Liam West!"
The audience clapped politely, a few cheers and whistles breaking through the applause.
Liam's heart thudded in his chest as he walked to the centre of the stage, his steps calm despite the nerves.
He nodded politely at the judges, offering them a faint but respectful smile.
Grace was the first to speak.
"Welcome to the stage, Liam! How are you feeling today?"