Chapter 40: You have one minute
Fifteen Minutes Ago...
Inside the restroom, Anna felt her consciousness slipping, her body trembling as though the last of her strength was draining away. Her knees buckled, and for a moment she thought she might collapse right there on the cold tiles.
Then a voice echoed in her mind.
"Prove me wrong, Anna."
Wilsmith’s words from earlier replayed like a challenge, piercing through the fog in her head. They struck a nerve, reminding her of everything at stake. She had dreams to chase, a life she wanted to live on her own terms. And no matter how weak she felt, she would not—could not—lose this chance.
’Don’t give up, Anna. You can do this.’
Her lips trembled as she whispered the words to herself, a fragile encouragement that lit something inside her. With a shaky breath, she tightened her grip on the door handle, forcing her trembling body upright. Her lungs burned, her vision swam, but she braced herself.
She would not let this weakness define her. Not today.
Anna inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of strength she had left, and slammed her fist against the door.
"HELP! SOMEBODY—PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN HERE!"
Her voice cracked, but desperation gave it force. This time, her cry did not vanish into silence. A moment later, the metallic click of a lock turning rang out, and the door swung open.
Anna stumbled backward, nearly falling into the arms of a uniformed guard. His eyes widened in shock as he steadied her.
"Who locked you in here?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
Anna shook her head quickly, brushing off the question. "I don’t know... but thank you. I’m just glad you heard me."
She didn’t waste another second. Darting past him, she glanced at the time and her stomach dropped.
’No. I can’t be late.’
Gathering the last of her strength, she sprinted down the hallway, every step echoing her determination. By the time she reached the rehearsal hall, her chest was heaving again. Relief flickered in her eyes—only to be crushed in an instant.
A staff member stepped in her path, his expression firm.
"I’m sorry. You can’t go in. The auditions are over."
Anna gaped, her lips parting in disbelief. "I still have five minutes left," she insisted, her voice laced with urgency. But the staff member only shook his head, unmoved.
From the side, Fiona’s eyes widened as though she had seen a ghost. Shock quickly twisted into fury, her jaw tightening, her gaze burning holes into Anna.
’How did she get out?’
Her mind raced, but within seconds she masked her emotions with a well-practiced act. Tilting her head just enough for those nearby to hear, she muttered, "Strange... isn’t something going on here?"
The girls from earlier—the same ones who had stood in the audition line giggling about Ethan—turned toward her. Their curious glances soon landed on Anna, who was desperately pleading with the staff member.
"I think she’s late," Fiona continued smoothly, her tone calculated and deceptively innocent. "And now she wants to slip in after time’s up. But... don’t you think that’s unfair? We’ve all waited in line for hours. Why should she just walk in as she pleases?"
Her words struck exactly where she wanted. The two girls exchanged glances, their expressions hardening.
"That’s not fair," one of them said firmly. "We’ve stood here all this time. She can’t just go in now."
Fiona’s lips curled into the faintest smirk as she watched them take the bait, stepping forward like soldiers ready to block Anna’s path.
"Excuse me," one girl said, folding her arms. "You cannot go inside."
Anna turned, confused, staring at them with furrowed brows. "What do you mean? Why are you even stopping me?"
But then recognition struck. Her memory flickered back to the earlier scene—the same two girls swooning over Ethan like starstruck admirers.
’Of course. They’re fighting for their own chances... for their position.’
No wonder they wanted her out of the way.
Anna ignored the girls and turned back to the staff member, desperation written across her face.
"Please, I still have some time left," she pleaded, clinging to whatever hope she had left.
Before the man could respond, one of the girls grabbed Anna by the shoulder and yanked her back.
"How dare you ignore us!" she snapped, making Anna stumble on her feet.
"Yes! We’ve been standing here for hours, and you think you can just walk in without effort?" the other added, her voice sharp with contempt.
Their protest was like a spark. Within moments, others waiting nearby joined in, voices overlapping, their frustration boiling over.
"That’s not fair!"
"She can’t just cut in!"
"Don’t let her inside!"
A small crowd gathered, their complaints merging into a chorus of protest. Anna’s heart pounded. She had never imagined she’d be the center of such hostility. Yet, beneath the fear clawing at her chest, one thought burned stronger than all the rest—
I can’t let this chance slip.
"What’s going on here?" another staff member demanded, striding into the hallway. His sharp tone quieted some of the shouting as his eyes swept over the crowd.
Seizing the moment, Anna noticed the rehearsal hall door cracked open just slightly. Hope surged through her veins, and she tried to dart forward.
But the man blocked her with an outstretched arm. "Hey! Where do you think you’re going?"
Anna froze, fumbling for words. "Please—I’m Anna. I came for the audition. I know I’m late, but I still have a few minutes before it’s officially over."
The man’s expression shifted at her name. His brows furrowed, and his gaze lingered on her—her disheveled hair, sweat-slicked forehead, and the wild determination blazing in her eyes.
"You’re... Anna?" he muttered, almost to himself.
Hope lit her face. "Yes! Please, let me in!"
But before he could answer, the protests behind her grew louder, voices pressing against the air, demanding fairness. The man hesitated, caught in the middle. The crowd protested shaking his rational thoughts.
However Anna... made her choice. With a burst of boldness, she slipped past him, shoved the door open, and darted inside. Her fingers scrambled for the lock, slamming it shut before anyone could drag her back out.
"Hey! You can’t just—" the staff member’s voice was cut off by the heavy door.
Anna pressed her back against it, her chest heaving, relief flooding her for a heartbeat. But the relief was short-lived.
Because just then, Wilsmith’s voice rang out from the stage. "That concludes today’s auditions. Thank you, everyone."
Panic shot through her veins. No. She hadn’t fought this hard, hadn’t clawed her way out of that restroom, just to be dismissed.
Before doubt could silence her, she raised her voice, firm and unshaken.
"I am yet to finish my audition."
....
Present
Wilsmith’s eyes sharpened as he voiced, cold and firm, "You are late, Miss Anna. The audition is over."
The words struck her like a blow, leaving her momentarily shattered. But even as his dismissal rang in her ears, Wilsmith’s gaze lingered. He studied her disheveled hair, her flushed cheeks, the sweat dampening her forehead. She looked like someone who had sprinted her way here.
’Was she running?’ he wondered. For a fleeting second, doubt stirred. But he quickly pushed it aside. ’Excuses or not, she missed her chance. And nothing can change that.’
Anna lifted her chin, meeting his stare with steady eyes. Her voice trembled, but her resolve did not. "You... you still have a minute left." She pointed to the clock on the wall.
Wilsmith’s gaze flicked toward it, and for the briefest heartbeat, a flicker of emotion crossed his features. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
"You think a single minute is enough to prove yourself?" His voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding. "We’ve already wasted enough time waiting for you, Miss Anna. You lost the opportunity that was given to you."
His words were final, each syllable a verdict.
Anna’s throat tightened, but she refused to bow her head. "Just give me a chance. I didn’t miss the audition on purpose," she pleaded, her voice breaking slightly.
Wilsmith didn’t flinch. His expression remained carved from stone. "I’m sorry, Miss Anna. But you were late. And we will not waste another moment."
Failure loomed over her like a heavy shadow. Until another voice broke the silence.
"We still have time."
Ethan’s voice cut through the tension, calm yet firm. Anna’s head snapped toward him, her breath catching. She had been so focused on Wilsmith that she hadn’t even registered Ethan standing there.
"Ethan, you—"
"She said she didn’t come late on purpose," Ethan interrupted, his gaze fixed on Wilsmith. "Look at her. She didn’t stroll in unbothered—she ran here. She’s telling the truth."
His words carried quiet conviction, hinting at the unspoken. Ethan had seen her earlier; he knew she wasn’t lying.
The air grew heavy as silence settled again. Ethan and Wilsmith locked eyes, an invisible conversation passing between them. It was not argument, but something more—a silent weighing of judgment and trust.
Anna stood frozen between them, her pulse thundering in her ears, her eyes darting helplessly from one man to the other.
Finally, Wilsmith exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening before he gave his verdict.
"Fine." His voice was clipped but decisive. "You have one minute to perform your act."
Anna’s breath rushed out, relief flooding through her veins.
But Wilsmith’s gaze held hers, sharp and deliberate, as he added, "Make sure you prove me wrong, Anna."
Her chest tightened. She realized, with startling clarity, that this wasn’t just his challenge anymore.
It was hers.