From the first words, Tristan immediately knew that this song was personal to Nel.
Not all great songs were made from personal inspirations, but Tristan believed that the best art was made with passion, and passion was born because the artist cared about whatever he was describing.
This was an example of passion.
"Things fall apart in my hands,
As I keep grasping at straws.
Laugh, laugh, laugh y'all!
I'm the joke, the big buffoon!"
At this line, Nel suddenly spun in a circle, never stopping playing, and let out a breath of laughter.
"But why cry when you can play?
Dance on the edge of a big mistake.
The life's a theater, and I'm the clown
Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I'm owning it!"
Nel hit the strings again and began on the guitar solo, even more wild than the previous one. The man was sweating visibly from exertion and the heat from the spotlights, but playing like his life depended on it.
When the song was complete and Nel bowed to the audience, Tristan applauded with the rest of the audience hall.
He had to respect this man as an artist. If Jane competed with feminine wiles, Nel had pure talent.
The judges noticed it too.
"This young man... His style is very bold. Risky, but incredibly catching."
"This is the type of the diamond in the rough that talent agencies love to snatch."
"Yes, I'm sure he will get a few offers of work after today. But will he reach the next round of the competition?"
"He has good chances, I'd say..."
Tristan pressed his lips together.
"Forget it! Just get the hell out before you implicate us! And I don't care what you call yourselves. I pay you, so I can call you whatever I want!"
After one more pause, Tristan heard a sound of footsteps.
Carlos finished talking and was about to leave the room!
Tristan froze, looking around for cover. However, this was something he didn't think through—the hallway was going in a straight direction for a while.
The nearest corner and the nearest other door were too far to reach in time!
At that moment, Tristan dove for the only cover remaining and froze there, absolutely silent and unmoving.
Carlos pushed the door open with irritation and stomped outside. Still oblivious to anyone's presence, he went back toward the stage.
When his footsteps disappeared in the distance, Tristan let out a breath of relief and stepped from his cover.
[Ding!]
[Sneaking skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.]
[Ding!]
[Observation skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.]
That cover was just the other side of the door that Carlos had pushed open!
Out in the open, he was immediately assaulted by a pair of notifications, which Tristan habitually dismissed.
'That was fucking close... Did I get anything good from it, at least?'
Tristan checked his phone recording. Although his phone was cheap, the hallway was pretty quiet, and the voice carried. Besides, Tristan had it pressed right into the door.
To his relief, it was actually possible to discern Carlos' words, if barely.
Tristan smirked.
'Jane is so unsure of herself that she hires thugs to thin the competition? How pathetic.'
This wasn't hard evidence against Carlos and Jane that would work in court, but it was still a powerful tool in his hands!
However, Tristan didn't have the time to use it just yet.
He went toward the dressing rooms. By Tristan's estimate, his own performance was going to begin in half an hour or so. He didn't have all the time in the world to waste.