Chapter: 1283
Although the morning had thrown her a curveball, Ariana wasn't one to crumble under pressure. She knew when she stepped into this contest there'd be hurdles, especially given her background.

So, she took a deep breath and steadied herself.

Blowing a gasket now wouldn't help anyone. What the team needed was a vocal coach who could elevate their act.

Pulling out her phone, Ariana pondered her next move. She thought about dialing Sarah. But with Sarah caught up in her concert series, she'd be free long after the contest wrapped up.

As she mulled over her options, a fresh post on her social media feed caught her eye, sparking an idea.

Meanwhile, back in the practice room, the six members of Ariana's ensemble were running their lines when they realized she was MIA.

With nothing else to do, they just hung around waiting.

Morning rolled into noon and yet, no Ariana.

Impatience brewing, the group decided to touch base with the show's crew about where Ariana might be. Their responses? Evasive at best, leaving the team more irked than before.

Tension climbed as the hours ticked away.

With the world watching and expecting them to stumble, every minute heightened their stress.

Feeling left in the lurch, their frustration mounted.

One of the guys in the group, a blond dude sporting a hip-hop getup but known for his rock vocals during tryouts, was especially antsy.

Having been overlooked by the big-shot agencies, he was under the wing of a lesser-known outfit.

His spirits had taken a hit since the previous night.

Restless, he began to pace, his patience thinning by the second.

“Where on earth is she? Reckon she's left us high and dry? If she's given up on us, she could at least have the decency to tell us!" he exclaimed.

Tom Rivas couldn't contain his exasperation any longer, slumping to the floor in defeat. He grumbled, “Joining her team was a mistake.

Even if I'd been kicked out during the auditions, it would have been better than this public embarrassment. The net's buzzing with ridicule about us. Why are we even still here?"

Brucie Armstrong, sitting nearby, flexed his muscular arms beneath his sleeveless shirt.
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