BIANCAI took another look at the stage name before the cringe spread across my face. “You're… sexual chocolate” I repeated, more of a question than a statement. “Yeah!” He answered with enthusiasm. I looked to Tiffany beside me, and she let her hair down so I wouldn't catch a glimpse of her face… or the laughter she was barely holding back. “What's your real name please?” I turned back to the guy on the stage. “Chester. Chester Drake.”How the fuck did he get sexual chocolate from that?!“Uh, please show us your performance.”“If you want it that bad” he answered. God, I hate this job. For the next three minutes, and the fifty seven minutes after him, I had to endure the heaviest weight of second-hand embarrassment. Quiet literally none of the auditions for Literature Con cut it. From the start, it seemed a hopeless venture. But, if I was being honest, half of the time, my mind wasn't even here. Every now and then, I'd glance at my phone, hoping a notification from Max woul
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