The black checks marked down each day like a death sentence. Kwan sighed, wiping his forehead as he changed out of his sweaty clothes. It was Tuesday, yet the hamper in his room was already full with shorts, sweatpants, and an abominable number of socks.

“Hey man, back from the gym again? How much have you been practicing today?” His roommate Alex struggled to understand the determination bubbling beneath his skin. He was already eighteen. Any more failed auditions and he’d be forced to give up. Even still, he had neglected to mention the audition to his parents. To them, it was foolish childhood ambition that should deflate in college.

At this Kwan scoffed. He couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else. This willpower was precisely why Kwan had visited the gym’s dance practice room during every break between his three classes today.

“I have to get in,” he finally replied. “It’s my last chance.”

“I guess. You’ll be fine.” Alex understood his ambition about as much as his parents did. It was impossible, unreasonable, and a waste of time and money. But to Kwan, this was tangible. He was going to pass this audition.

At dinner, Kwan searched over the sea of faces to find his friends in the commons. He carried a small bowl of salad, a glass of water in the other hand. Alex and his friend Leah scooted over, making room for him at the round table.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Leah looked to him with concern, placing a gentle hand on his elbow. He sighed and picked at the lettuce with a fork, displeasure on his face.

“Yeah…I have to eat right and get this audition.” She offered a sympathetic look, giving him a final pat on the arm.

“You’ll be fine! This time you’ll get called back for sure.” His friends exchanged words of support, a few patting him on the back as they grabbed chairs from another table.

“Hey, you want to come up tonight? We got new games.” Kwan shook his head, smiling politely at his other friends.

“I wish I could. I need to practice though.” They sighed.

“You’ve been practicing for weeks. Just for a little while?” He hesitated, wavering between the options. “All you do is practice! Come on! Besides, you don’t want to be tired tomorrow when you have to actually do it!” Smiling, Kwan nodded his head.

“Okay, fine. It might be nice to take a break.”

That evening he sat in his friend’s bedroom, watching them laugh and play games together. Leah sat down next to him, scooting closer with a gentle smile. Aside from Alex, she was the person to whom Kwan found himself growing closest. She was understanding and smart, and was one of the few people he felt comfortable showing the raps he had written.

“Stop looking so concerned,” she said, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You’re going to be fine!” He sighed, smiling at her expression.

“It’s just nerve-wracking. This is the fifth audition and I feel like it’s my last chance.” She looked at him with an unreadable expression, but eventually smiled back.

“I think worrying about it isn’t going to do you any favors. Just have fun today!” He appreciated her positivity. Taking her advice, he laughed loudly with his friends into the late evening. Leah smiled. For the first time in a month, Kwan was finally acting as he had when they first met, nerves no longer eating away at his personality.

The next morning his casual happiness had vanished like the spell that created Cinderella’s temporary treasures. Wordlessly he dressed himself, taking extra care to tightly knot the laces on his lucky sneakers. He offered a soft laugh while tying them. What luck had they brought so far?

Alex offered him a supportive smack on the back before he left for class. Smiling back at him, Kwan gave a content nod. He exhaled slowly.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve done this before. I can do it.” Leah laughed as she walked by the door, hearing him talk reassuringly to himself.

“That’s right. No freaking out.” He blushed faintly at being heard, but greeted his friend warmly at the door. “Seriously, you’ll get it this time.” Outstretching her arms, Leah pulled him into a tight hug before he left. “I’m rooting for you!” He smiled again.

“I’ll see you later.” They waved and Kwan turned to leave, letting out another nervous breath of air.

The center was surprisingly packed with other hopefuls, at least a hundred performers from the nearby states all flocking together in hopes of being one of the few chosen as trainees. His eyes grew wide as they took in the crowd of people. The group was nearly double what he had faced last time, and he realized that the chances of anyone making it into the spots were at least a hundred to one.

After collecting his packet, submitting the disc and forms, he sat in a line of chairs and waited nervously for his turn.

“Kwan Choi?” He stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair to the floor. A girl next to him snickered, and another nervous blush blossomed on his cheeks. The room was large, a few representatives for the company sitting at a small table at the far end.

“Mr. Choi?” He nodded, walking toward them cautiously. “Do you speak Korean?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, stumbling slightly over his words. His Korean wasn’t perfect, but enough to understand and communicate the necessary phrases.

“You’re going to perform for us vocally first, is that alright?” He nodded, clearing his throat. An assistant played his CD, and he began to sing. The lyrics were predominantly rap, allowing Kwan to showcase his most prominent abilities. The representatives offered neither reactions nor feedback to his performance, but motioned for the assistant to begin his dance track.

He took a deep breath before moving, trying to clear himself mentally and focus on the moves. As he danced to the thumping music, the intimidating table faded away. His arms and legs moved of their own accord, the motion memorized in his very being. When he finished his breath had nearly vanished, and he gasped slightly to refocus his mind.

“Alright. You will receive a call tomorrow if we decide to accept you for training. Thank you.” Kwan nodded, making his way back to the door. He was fortunate to be auditioning on the last day, essentially cutting his wait time to the bare minute. That meant, of course, that his performance was already being compared to the early favorites.

“Thank you.” The representatives nodded, and he let out an exhausted sigh upon leaving the room. They would be comparing notes, reviewing his forms, and watching the audition video he had been asked to submit in addition to the performance he had just given.

Kwan walked down the hall a moment before going to the bus stop, his mind a flurry of doubts and concerns. There had been mistakes in his vocals, and the dance wasn’t as perfect as he had hoped. What if they didn’t like his look? And the mistakes he made when speaking Korean would only serve to count against his chance.

He rode the bus with slumped shoulders, convinced his last chance had faded out of reach.

“How did you do?” asked Alex, opening the door for his tired roommate.

“I don’t know,” he replied, falling sleepily to his mattress. “I don’t think I made it.” Alex laughed, returning to his computer.

“I bet it was fine.”

It was four in the morning before Kwan managed to sleep. He awoke to the sound of his roommate leaving and hurried to his phone in hopes of seeing a voice message from the company.

“Did you get called yet?” Leah smiled in class, a sunny cheerfulness in her bright eyes. Kwan shook his head and focused his attention on the threads of his sweater, picking slightly at the thin yarn. “Don’t give up yet. The day isn’t over!” He thought he saw a touch of satisfaction in her eyes, but if he had it faded like lightening.

“Why haven’t they called yet?” He was frustrated after anticipating the call for hours, answering his phone grumpily when the excited ringing had revealed itself to be his parents.  Kwan sat again with his friends in their bedroom, trying to force the doubt from his twisting thoughts. Leah sighed, patting him on his broad shoulders.

“Maybe it’s better this way? After all, you’d be moving away.” Kwan glared at her light eyes, hurt by her unintentional lack of sensitivity.

“I can’t do anything else.” She looked upset by his angry reply.

“You could stay here.” He sighed, sorry for snapping a response.

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to stay here though.” Nervously, she reached up with her left hand to shift the collar of his sweater.

“But…what about me?” There was a pause as he hesitated to respond, in which a cell phone began to ring. The memory would replay in his mind for weeks. Alex turned around, holding a black phone in his hand.