oliver "number fifty two, seventy one, twenty six and forty three," the high pitched voice causes me to release my lower lip from my teeth and i stop bobbing my legs up and down. i stare at the number "43" stamped onto the portfolio in my hand and i get up from the waiting area, gulping harshly before following the short guy with purple hair in front of me. "congratulations, you have all been selected," the blonde girl smiles once we gather around her and i can hear sighs of relief around me, but my breath is still stuck in my throat. i did an irrelevant amount of research and i know that until and unless our producers like us and our work, we can't get through this. i clutch the strap of my bag nervously and my fingers grip the folder in my hand tightly, to the point where my knuckles are turning white as i stare at my shoes. "you can go inside, and mr. adler can take your audition," she adjusts the bluetooth attached to her ear. "be confident alright? all the best!" she gives us a toothy smile and ushers us into the dark room. i am the last one to walk in, following the oddly muscular guy in front of me and i feel intimidated from the surroundings alone. the lights are extremely dim, and i can barely see anything with my slightly blurry vision, as we walk further and further, through a carpeted hallway and towards a giant room with an open door. there are four people already inside, one of them is sitting in a chair with his back facing us and two are standing up, talking to him. they are all in front of what looks like a recording studio, and it has brighter lighting, a variety of instruments and a few mics attached. the last one is a small woman who walks upto us, with a crooked smile, her short hair is messy and framing her chubby face. she has horn rimmed glasses on, and has a little bit of a grandma like vibe to her as she adjusts her glasses and opens her folder. "alfie deyes?" she speaks, her voice slightly croaky, and i watch one of the men with dark short hair and a messy stubble stepping forward, a confident smile on his face. "that would be me," he smiles and the lady nods before speaking again. "the line up is, alfie deyes, tyler oakely, hazel grace and oliver finely," my heart literally skips out of my chest when i hear my name last. i hated the fact that i'm going last, because that will only trigger my anxiety, and waver my non existent confidence. "mr. adler will be judging you, and one of you is going to be selected to work with him. it's a big opportunity, so do your best alright?" she raises her eyebrows and i nod hesitantly along with the others. i watch as alfie walks inside the glass booth, and gives a slight nod before walking towards the drumset, taking out his own drumsticks from his bag and tapping them together at the count of three before slamming them down with full force. and the way his voice is dominating and powerful, i don't think i have any chance against any of the people here.

oliver "bullshit! what the hell was that?" i watch the man scream for the third time as the guy with purple hair gulps audibly. he adjusts his glasses and from here i can see his lip quivering as he exits the booth, patting my shoulder awkwardly as he takes a seat next to hazel. i can feel my hands shaking as i take a deep breath trying to calm myself down. the people who just performed were actually really good and i would never consider myself somewhere even close to their talent. none of them played the piano so i was slightly hesitant, as i clutched my bag pack tightly, waiting for my name to be called. "oliver finely," the deep voice booms and i quickly fix my fringe, insecurely walking towards the booth. i keep my head down as i slowly step inside, sighing out loud before dropping my bag and folder on the floor. i look up, through the glass and i can finally see the face of the man who has been yelling constantly. he has dark hair, fawning over his forehead in a perfect fringe and his skin is pale, too pale. his lips are abnormally pink and i can clearly see the frustration behind his icy blue eyes, as he shoots me a glare and mutters something under his breath. "what the hell are you waiting for?" his voice is slightly annoyed and i snap out of my trance, making my way towards the keyboard set in the corner, almost tripping over a wire in the process. i can feel judgemental glares burning into my skin, as i gulp, sliding the headphones over my ears and taking a seat on the almost worn out leather bench. i take another breath, closing my eyes for a brief moment and before i know my fingers glide over the black and white porcelain keys, and my mouth begins moving. i can feel my heart loudly pulsating in my chest as i continue, my throat feeling like it could explode any moment and my vocal chords feel threatened from the pressure. i need to get this right. everything i have been wishing for flashes behind my eyelids as my voice gets louder, the pitch scaling towards the end of my song. my mouth is dry as i try hitting the notes, legs shaking as my hands press down on the slippery keys. my body is constantly telling me that i've fucked up as i reach the very end of the tune, ending it with a loud note and an impressive playback. i keep my head down, staring mindlessly at the instrument, biting my lip harshly and i refuse to look at the rude critic. i could actually cry if he insults me right now, which is what i am expecting as i take off my headphones, running my fingers through my slightly sweaty hair and i try to steady my breathing, ignoring the deafening pounding in my chest. "we will need to work on him but i guess he is the best out of the horrible collection,"

oliver "oliver finely, you can meet mr. adler in the back room," the aged lady points her finger at me and i frantically get up from the cold metal chair, almost stumbling down in the process. "the rest of you can go, we'll contact you for further details," i gulp and watch as frustrated sighs leave their lips, alfie giving me a cold look before getting up and harshly grabbing his bag, exiting the room. the shorter guy, with purple hair gives me a small smile, mouthing a 'congratulations' and i smile back at him, thanking him quietly. the lady leads me to another room with a white polished door, and i watch as she adjusts her glasses before slightly tapping against the wood. "come in," a deep voice booms from inside and i can feel my heart pounding in my chest as the door opens to reveal a messy looking office, the blue eyed man settled on one of the large bean bags casually, his eyes fixed on the ipad in his hands. "this is oliver finely, the one you liked the best out of-" the lady begins in her croaky voice but the man just raises his hand up in the air to stop her from speaking. "yeah, yeah, i'll take care of him, you can go," he dismissively speaks, and the poor lady eyes him warily before leaving me alone with him. "oliver finely," his eyes flicker to me and i can feel my breath hitching in my throat as i look away from him, my fingers clutching my folder tightly. "close the door," he instructs, and it takes me a moment to register his words before i quickly turn around, pushing the door until it clicks shut. "you've got a nice ass," he says casually and i feel my cheeks heat before i quickly turn back around to face him, pulling at the hem of my shirt to cover myself. "um, w-what?" i stutter slightly and he smirks, putting his device to the side and getting up from his bean bag. he wiggles his hips slightly, pulling his jeans up and walks towards me, eyes raking across my frame not-so-subtly. "let's talk about work, shall we?" his hand travels up to my face, and he pushes a strand of hair away from my forehead as he raises one of his eyebrows, in an attractive gesture. unable to respond, i just gulp, nodding slightly as i follow him towards the cherry wood table in the other corner of the room, hoping that this is not how uncomfortable i'll be feeling everytime i talk to this guy.