NCCnovel Chapter 242 Reality
Chapter 242 Reality
The last note's trailing melody was slowly stretched out by the reverb, eventually fading into nothingness.
The stadium lights came on.
Four girls stood on the stage, their chests heaving. Sweat soaked through their shirts and jackets. Yami put down her guitar, led her teammates to the front of the stage, and bowed deeply.
There was still no applause from the audience. The judges kept their heads down, continuing to review the materials in their hands.
"Number 16, leave the stage." The assistant's voice came through the headset.
I walked through the dimly lit passage and returned to my private lounge. The heavy walnut door closed behind me.
Yuki tossed the drumsticks onto the coffee table and collapsed onto the leather sofa, utterly exhausted. She gasped for breath, her chest heaving. "It's so hot… my wrists are about to break."
Rie leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down until she landed on the carpet. Her hands were tightly wrapped around her knees, her fingertips still trembling slightly, but her eyes shone with an astonishing light. "I...I didn't play it wrong. Yami, I followed the whole second half."
"You did a great job, Rie." Ayami carefully placed the guitar back into its pouch and zipped it up. She walked to the coffee table, unscrewed a bottle of mineral water, and took a big gulp. The cool liquid slid down her throat, suppressing the burning sensation in her vocal cords.
Maki took off her baseball cap and casually tousled her short hair, which was damp with sweat. She silently squatted in the corner and began to tidy up her effects pedal cables, one loop at a time.
The adrenaline quickly dissipates within minutes of the performance ending. This is followed by muscle soreness and immense fatigue.
The lounge fell silent. Only the clock on the wall ticked monotonously.
Ten minutes. Half an hour. An hour. No one knocked on the door. Nor did any of the dreamlike scenes of a talent scout walking in and signing a contract on the spot unfold.
Occasionally, the heavy footsteps of other bands echoed down the corridor, along with faint cheers or frustrated curses. The torment brought by the unknown was like a dull saw, slowly eroding the girls' will.
"Why haven't they notified us yet..." Yuki sat up from the sofa, scratching her hair in frustration. "Can't you just give me a straight answer?"
Rie held the lukewarm water bottle, her face turning pale again. "Was it... that we didn't perform well? Did the judges not even notice us?"
Yami sat on the edge of the sofa, her gaze calmly fixed on the monitor that was still playing a silent video.
"Be patient." Her voice remained gentle, yet firm. "The judges need to evaluate all the options before making a decision. All we can do is wait."
I waited for almost two hours.
"Click".
The sound of the door lock turning was extremely jarring in the deathly silent lounge.
The door was slowly pushed open. A male assistant with an SA Entertainment name tag around his neck stood in the doorway. He was wearing a well-tailored dark suit, his hands clasped in front of him.
"Excuse me. I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting." The assistant smiled and bowed with perfect poise. "Please take your belongings and follow me."
After saying that, he took half a step back, turned to the side, and made a "please" gesture.
The four of them stood up abruptly. Yuki and Rie exchanged a glance, then quickly grabbed their instrument bags, their movements even appearing somewhat flustered.
Yes, right? The fact that they didn't say "go back and wait for further notice" means there's a high chance of success!
Yamei slung her guitar bag over her shoulder and straightened the collar of her trench coat.
"Let's go."
……
Second floor, third conference room.
The assistant pushed open the glass door to the conference room. Yami walked in first, followed by Yuki, Rie, and Maki.
The conference room on the second floor was extremely spacious, with a strong blast of air conditioning. Ya Mei walked to the long, lacquered glass table opposite her, pulled out a black leather chair, and calmly sat down.
Rie stared at the cold, reflective tabletop, then hesitantly pulled out a chair. The chair legs scraped against the floor with a dull thud. Yuki and Maki sat down on either side of her.
Sato, the producer from the planning department, sat at the head of the long table. He wore a well-tailored dark suit, and the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses gleamed under the overhead light. Seeing the four of them sit down, he stopped twirling his pen and closed the heavy file in front of him, the one with the photo of "Blue Echo" affixed to the top.
"Everyone, thank you for your hard work." Sato placed his hands on the file, a perfectly measured business smile playing on his lips, his tone gentle. "The performance just now was fantastic. To be able to quickly adjust to the high-pressure environment of the finals and deliver that level of teamwork is truly impressive. Please have some water and rest for a bit."
He gestured towards the bottled water on the table. Then, the smile on Sato's face vanished instantly. He leaned forward slightly, adjusted his glasses, and his gaze swept over the four girls' faces in turn.
"Based on the judges' scores," Sato's tone softened, "your technique is above average, your stage presence is excellent, and your physical attributes show great potential. After comprehensive evaluation, SA Entertainment believes you possess extremely high commercial development potential."
He tapped his index finger lightly twice on the edge of the file. "The company can provide you with a customized new employee contract."
Upon hearing the word "contract," Yuki almost jumped up with excitement, and Rie also covered her mouth in excitement.
Sato raised a finger, interrupting their joy. "Don't be so happy yet. Listen to the company's terms."
He pushed a letter of intent with a red cover across the smooth glass tabletop in front of Yami.
"Your technique and charisma are impeccable." Sato said calmly, his hands clasped together. "But as you saw in the waiting area, the fifteenth band's technique is equally solid. The current Japanese rock scene is filled with long-haired, technically hardcore male bands. In that sea of sweat and grime, it's extremely difficult for newcomers to stand out."
He extended his index finger and pointed to the group photo of the four people at the top of the file.
"SA won't waste resources on a saturated market. Compared to technology, the company values the scarcity of all of you women, and this... visual contrast." Sato leaned forward slightly, his gaze sweeping over the four of them. "The company's plan is to give you all custom-made uniforms and put you on prime-time variety shows on major TV stations."
The air in the conference room seemed to freeze instantly. Yuki and Rie's eyes widened slightly.
"Use that raw, explosive rock energy you just displayed to crush those traditional idol groups who only lip-sync. At the same time, leverage the approachability of young girls to attract ordinary audiences who don't even listen to underground rock." Sato's eyes became extremely aggressive. "Rock fans' money, and idol otaku's money. SA wants it all."
He tapped the cover of the letter of intent twice, making a soft "tap, tap" sound.
"Abandon your basement-dwelling high and mighty attitude. Accept the commercial positioning of 'female idol band.'" Sato looked at Masami and issued his ultimatum. "This is the bottom line the company is pushing you to achieve with all its resources."
Yuki froze, her excitement gone. "An idol...?" She looked down at the calluses on her hands from holding drumsticks for so long. "Wearing a skirt...acting cute on TV?"
Rie bit her lip hard, a hint of resistance flashing in her eyes.
This runs counter to their pride in sweating it out in the basement and pursuing independent music.
Maki lowered the brim of her hat and crossed her arms over her chest.
She scoffed, "Idol music is too superficial." Maki's voice was flat. "Wearing those flowy dresses while playing the piano goes against the soul of rock. I refuse."
Sato was not angered by Maki's resistance. He simply sat there quietly, waiting for the young people to make their final decision.
In the face of capital, any so-called "soul" must be measured by price.
Moreover, he had done his research. That lead singer must know the weight of capital.
Yamei remained seated quietly. She extended her right hand and pulled the red-covered letter of intent in front of her. She opened it, her gaze quickly sweeping over the densely packed clauses.
The rustling sound of papers turning echoed in the cold conference room.
After looking at the contract for a full ten minutes to make sure there were no problems, Yamei finally raised her head and glanced at her companions beside her.
"Yuki." Yami spoke slowly and softly. "You still haven't paid your rent for next month's apartment, have you? If you can't pay this month, the landlord is going to throw your drum set out into the street."
Yuki froze. "Then...then I can work a couple more night shifts at the convenience store..."
"Rie." Yami ignored Yuki's explanation and shifted her gaze to the bassist. "Your night shift at the convenience store has been keeping you up all night for a week. Those cheap stomach medicines you brought were all gone yesterday."
Rie clutched the hem of her clothes tightly, her eyes slightly red.
Yami's gaze finally landed on Maki, who was crossing her arms and pretending to be aloof.
"Maki." Masami's tone was calm, conveying a sense of older sisterly understanding. "You borrowed 20,000 yen from me last month to buy that used distorted pedal, and you still haven't paid it back."
Maki's facial muscles twitched slightly, and the fingers of her arms tightened unconsciously.
Yami held the edge of the letter of intent and tapped the paper lightly with her fingers twice.
"We did sell out 300 tickets for our solo show last month. We've gained some fame in the underground scene." Yami looked at them. "But after deducting the venue rental and equipment depreciation, the money we get isn't even enough to buy a decent set of strings. We rely on this kind of barely breaking even fame, working in poorly ventilated basements until our fingers are stiff, and then eating discounted convenience store bento boxes after the show."
She paused slightly.
"Do you all think this is what it means to pursue your dreams?"
She pushed the letter of intent to the center of the coffee table.
"Wearing their custom-made stage outfits. Standing in a stadium with tens of thousands of people. Using those top-of-the-line speakers, playing our own songs." Yami's voice remained gentle, yet carried an undeniable power. "As long as we live, as long as we still hold our instruments, we can still convey our voices to all of Japan. That's what we truly want, right?"
"By the way," Yami slowly turned the page to the last, her gaze lingering on Maki's tense face, "the producer made a promise in the additional terms. As long as you sign, the company will equip the band with a complete set of custom-made retro amps tomorrow, as well as the rare, out-of-print effects pedal matrix that you've always been eyeing."
Maki's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.
Yami shifted her gaze to Yuki and Rie, who were swallowing hard beside her. "Everyone won't have to work anymore. The company will provide a base salary of 300,000 yen. In addition, the A5 grade Wagyu beef set meal (specially supplied from Hokkaido farms) in the company cafeteria will be provided free of charge to contracted artists all day long."
A deathly silence fell over the meeting room for a full second.
Maki suddenly looked up and snatched the black pen from the table. She uncapped it.
"Rock and roll is dead."
Maki uttered four words expressionlessly. She pressed her wrist down and, without hesitation, signed her name in the "Party B" section of the letter of intent.
After signing, she turned her head and looked at Producer Sato, who was holding a teacup across from her.
"Do you have any black stage outfits?" Maki asked seriously. "If all else fails, I can dye my soul pink right now. As long as that rare effects matrix can be delivered to the rehearsal room tomorrow."
Yuki and Rie exchanged a glance. The grand stage that Ayami had just described gave them a real glimpse of hope for their dreams to continue. And Maki's lightning-fast defection completely shattered the last shred of their awkward pride about being an "underground band."
The two quickly snatched the pen from Maki's hand. The pen tip scratched across the paper, making a soft, rustling sound. The blank spaces on the letter of intent were quickly filled with the girls' names.
The dream has become reality.