The big rehearsal hall beside the grand theatre was buzzing with life.
Students cluttered every corner, some hunched over scripts, muttering lines, others humming warm-ups, while a few loudly criticized or mocked their classmates' practice runs. The air was thick with nerves and tension, a mix of hairspray, paper rustling, and whispered gossip.
An Ran sat at the farthest corner, her back pressed against the cool wall, script open on her lap. She adjusted her glasses and quietly went over her chosen piece again. Her heart was racing so fast it almost drowned out the voices around her.
Calm down… just focus… just breathe…
The rules were simple: each participant would act out a scene from a literary work of their choice. Then the scouts would assign them another role on the spot. That second test was what terrified most of the students, it was unpredictable, merciless.
Her eyes drifted to the other corner of the hall.
Qin Mo sat there, hood up as always, head bowed, still and silent. But he looked different today. His posture slumped, his hands dug into his pockets like he was holding himself together. His skin was pale under the harsh fluorescent lights, and the shadows under his eyes were darker than ever. Insomnia, she thought. He's been having those nightmares again…
An Ran sighed softly. She wanted to go over and ask if he was alright, maybe slip him one of the snacks she always brought for him during their library sessions. She had just pushed herself up when she bumped into someone.
"Ah..!" She staggered, almost dropping her script, but a warm hand steadied her.
"Careful!"
She blinked up into the round, cheerful face of a girl with big eyes and a smile that lit up her features. The girl was slightly chubby, but her energy was so bright it made her look glowing.
"I'm Jiang Yueran," the girl chirped, straightening her uniform skirt before giving a friendly nod. She gestured to the tall, elegant girl beside her. "This is my classmate, Li Shiqing. We're from Grade 12B."
Li Shiqing was the opposite of her companion, slim, graceful, with long, neat braids draped over her shoulders. Her face was beautiful, almost intimidating, though her polite smile seemed a little stiff, the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes.
An Ran adjusted her glasses nervously. "I… I'm An Ran. From 12C."
"Nice to meet you!" Jiang Yueran said brightly. Her eyes scanned An Ran's script curiously. "So, what book did you choose?"
An Ran hesitated, then said softly, "The Queen."
Both girls gasped.
"The Queen?" Yueran's voice jumped. "Are you serious? That book is tragic! The heroine is practically crying her way through the entire story. You need… you need, like, motivation and life experience to pull it off."
Li Shiqing tilted her head, lips curving faintly. Her tone was smooth, but the sharpness beneath it wasn't lost on An Ran. "I really admire you. You sure know how to pick…" A pause, then a soft laugh. "Though whether you can handle it, that's another question."
An Ran's cheeks warmed, but Yueran elbowed Shiqing lightly. "Don't scare her! An Ran, right? I think it's brave. Tragic roles show raw emotion, it'll make you stand out." She winked playfully. "And trust me, I like standing out, so I respect it when someone else dares too."
They settled near An Ran, chatting. Yueran was nervous, fidgeting with her pen, then blurting: "I'm really nervous. What if I forget my lines?"
Shiqing rolled her eyes. "You're bluffing. You've done smaller plays before, haven't you? Are you just saying this so I'll reassure you in front of An Ran?"
"I'm not bluffing!" Yueran huffed, though her grin gave her away. "I just… I admire professionals." She suddenly straightened, her eyes sparkling as she spotted movement across the hall. "Oh my God. Look, look, it's Chen Mian!"
An Ran followed her gaze.
A group of people had entered, their presence alone was enough to make the entire hall hush. At the center was a woman in her late twenties, slim, dressed in a crisp black suit. Her hair was tied neatly, her gaze sharp and calculating as it scanned the students one by one.
"That's Chen Mian," Yueran whispered reverently. "She's the talent scout from Star Entertainment. She's scouted dozens of idols and actors. I heard she has an eye for hidden gems, like she can see through your soul with one look!"
Shiqing chuckled, filing her nails lazily. "Stop exaggerating. She's just another scout. Don't get carried away."
Yueran ignored her. She sprang up, dragging An Ran and Shiqing by the wrist. "Come on, let's get a closer look before the auditions start!"
"Hey, easy!" Shiqing protested, but followed reluctantly.
An Ran smiled faintly as she saved Yueran's number on her phone. For the first time in so long, warmth bloomed in her chest. She had made a friend. Maybe even two. She made a mental note: I'll tell Qin Mo later…
Her gaze wandered back to his corner.
Qin Mo was sweating, his hood slipping slightly to reveal the damp hair clinging to his forehead. His hands were clenched tightly on his knees, his shoulders shaking faintly. His chest rose and fell too quickly.
Is he sick? Should I bring him something?
She took a hesitant step toward him. His head jerked up suddenly, as if sensing her. His eyes met hers, bloodshot, wide, and strangely helpless. For a second, he looked like a little boy lost in the dark.
Then it happened.
A loud, shrill siren blasted from a careless student's phone speaker. The sound tore through the hall, bouncing off the high walls.
Qin Mo flinched violently. His eyes widened in terror. His lips trembled.
"An Ran…" he whispered, barely audible. He tried to stand, but his knees buckled.
He collapsed.
"No!" An Ran gasped, rushing forward.
He clutched his chest, gasping, his breathing ragged. "Stop… stop…" His voice broke as he covered his ears, curling into himself, trembling like he was being torn apart from the inside.
"Is he, is he having a panic attack?" someone shouted.
"Someone call an ambulance!"
"Where are the teachers?!"
A crowd formed instantly, voices overlapping in panic.
"Does anyone have an inhaler?!"
An Ran dropped to her knees beside him, her hands shaking. "Qin Mo ....please, it's me,it's okay...it's okay... " But he didn't hear her. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, drowning in memories she couldn't see.
Teachers finally rushed in. "Move aside! Give him space!"
One knelt, trying to pry his hands away from his ears. "Remove his sweater, we need to check him!"
The fabric was pulled back... gasps erupted around the room.
Scars. Thin lines on his wrists. Faint burns along his stomach. Old wounds. New ones. His fragile body was a map of silent suffering no one had ever noticed.
An Ran's breath caught. Her heart twisted painfully.
"God…" someone whispered. "What happened to him?"
"Those scars..."
"Is he… is he being abused?"
Qin Mo convulsed, his body trembling violently. A girl screamed, covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. It looked like he was dying.
Jiang Cheng shoved through the crowd like a storm, his tall frame radiating authority. "Back off!" he barked. His voice cut through the chaos. "Don't crowd him!" He turned to the teachers. "Call the medical team... now!"
They tried everything.cool cloths, soft words, steady hands...but Qin Mo's breathing only grew shallower, his lips turning pale. His eyes rolled back slightly, and An Ran felt her entire body go cold.
"Stay with us," a teacher pleaded, holding the oxygen mask ready.
The medical team arrived in a rush, swiftly placing the mask over Qin Mo's face. His chest heaved once, twice... then steadied slightly under the hiss of oxygen.
"Clear the way!" they ordered, strapping him onto the stretcher.
The hall was silent, the kind of silence that follows a scream. Students stood frozen, some with tears in their eyes, others pale with shock.
An Ran's knees felt weak. She clutched her script to her chest, heart pounding, her mind blank except for one thought...
I... It's … its all my fault.
Qin Mo's limp hand slid off the stretcher as they wheeled him away. She reached out instinctively, but stopped short, her fingers curling in the empty air.