He wasn't as wound up as Tom, but his low spirits were palpable. He remarked, "Unless a miracle occurs, we're likely the first ones out.

Did you see the others at the auditions? How do we even stand a chance?"

As the group's spirits dampened, Woodrow tried to interject some optimism.

"There might still be a stage meant just for us. We can't lose hope now. Better to try and fail than not try at all. Giving up now means we've truly lost everything."

Tom gave a derisive snort, looking at him with thinly veiled contempt.

"Really? You two can barely face a camera, and now you're giving pep talks?"

Caught off-guard, Woodrow struggled to respond. Tom's disdain for the brothers was evident as he continued to mock, “Thinking of winning, are you? On what grounds? Your shrieking voices? Or those clumsy dance steps that look like a chicken's?"

“Have you even got a clue about comedy? Keep your ill-informed comments to yourself," Franklin defended, quickly escalating the exchange into a full-blown argument between him, Woodrow, and Tom.

In the midst of the heated debate, Brucie's voice cut through the noise, his irritation evident.

"Enough with the shouting! What's the point? We shouldn't even be here. The blame is on whoever picked us."

The tension in the room was palpable as Tom continued venting his frustrations.

Agitated, he exclaimed, "She dragged us here at the crack of dawn and then vanished. I could've spent my time better sleeping. And last night, I looked up her company, this ‘Landon Media,‘ I've never heard of it! Probably just some dubious front using us as a facade."

From his perch on a nearby couch, a young man named Jim Woden, distinguishable by his weary eyes and single eyelids, had silently observed the escalating dispute. Finally, he couldn't hold back.

Offering a cold stare, he challenged, "You weren't griping when you secured your positions yesterday. What good does shouting do now? If you're so discontented, just leave."

Tom's ire was now directed at Jim. Hurling his script aside, he charged towards the exit, eyes blazing.

“You know what? I will!"

But as he reached for the door handle, it swung open from the other side.

A breathless Ariana entered, immediately apologizing.

"I'm so sorry for the delay. The vocal coach the program arranged had an emergency, so I had to find a suitable replacement."

Before she could elaborate further, a man stepped into the room behind her, leaving everyone in a state of shock.