The competition was held in the city's music hall. There were a few posters for the event plastered around the entrance, and many people were walking in and out as Tristan approached.
Some were clearly about to compete, some had badges of the staff, and others were there to watch.
Tristan kept his eyes on his surroundings, as always, watching for danger. But no one cared for him more or less than for any other contestant.
A staff member checked his ID, then gave him a paper brochure with the contest's timetable and pointed him toward the dressing rooms.
Tristan didn't know who came up with this, but placing dressing rooms on the second floor, reachable only via a wide staircase, was a stupid idea.
It was hard to ascend the stairs when you carried heavy bags with costumes or instruments. Tristan was strong enough to carry all his things without a problem and even had a free hand, but others weren't so lucky.
As he walked up, he saw a young woman struggle to keep the hem of her long dress from under her feet while carrying a clutch. Next to her, a man was struggling under the weight of a huge suitcase.
Tristan was passing the woman on the staircase when she finally tripped. With a shriek and a flail of her arms, she began falling backward, still gripping the clutch to her chest.
Moving on reflex, Tristan stepped up and caught the falling woman by the waist.
She gasped and breathed out a sign of relief. If she fell, she could've tumbled an entire meter down the stairs, and surely would've broken or sprained something!
The woman straightened up, still holding on her savior's arm. Her shining blue eyes, full of gratitude, met his...
Tristan's arm recoiled from the woman like it was burned!
She almost lost her balance on the staircase again, and Tristan had to make a step down the stairs to keep his own.
Only his high acting skill let him prevent shock and disdain from appearing on his face.
He didn't recognize her from the back, but Tristan could never forget the face of Jane Greenpawl, the former girlfriend that dumped him over the phone when he was at his lowest point in life!
She was beautiful, like a porcelain doll—perfect and artificial, definitely with some plastic surgeries done even at her youthful age. Wavy blond hair falling to her back, even bronze tan—Jane looked like she just stepped from the cover of a fashion magazine in her flowing blue mermaid dress.
Several people were sitting at the dressers, putting on and fixing their costumes, trying to calm down their nerves, or inspecting their instruments. Some glances were thrown toward Tristan, but then people resumed minding their business.
And there, Tristan's observation skill let him immediately notice another familiar face.
That was much less important, though. He didn't even remember the guy's name.
That young man acted so snobbishly back when he tried to take the position of the Good Lion Bar's pianist, but in the end, had to leave with his tail tucked.
Tristan didn't pay him any mind as he went toward the remaining free mirror and began unpacking his things. He had to tune his guitar, put on his full costume and make sure everything was smooth.
And he didn't even have a stylist for it...
For a while, Tristan fixed everything up in peace, until realizing that he didn't have enough free space.
Because the pianist guy spread his things so widely around that they encroached on Tristan's space.
Tristan pushed them away.
The pianist guy immediately swiveled in his seat, with his hairbrush raised in alarm.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
"Keep your things at your place, mister," Tristan said in his tried and tested 'do that or I will break your knees' tone. "Others need the space, too."
Recognition flashed in the pianist guy's eyes.
"Ha! It's you! You! I knew you were just some guitar guy. What do you even need the space for? All your image is just tussling hair like a crow's nest and painting bags under your eyes!
You can deal with leaving me more space, you know. It's not like you have even a chance to win!"
Tristan sneered.
That gnat didn't know whom he crossed.