CHAPTER 387: CHAPTER 387 AUDITION (2)

Ruby smirked but didn’t answer. She could tell he was getting nervous again. His fingers were twitching at the hem of his robe.

At the end of the hallway, the receptionist opened a tall door and gestured them inside.

"This is the waiting room," she said in a clipped tone. "You’ll be called in when it’s your turn. Fill out your name on the form with Madam Yora over there."

Ruby and Karl stepped inside.

The room had a cozy but serious feel to it. Velvet-upholstered chairs were lined along the walls, their fabric faded in places. A low, wooden table stood at the center, cluttered with papers, few files, and thin parchment forms. A tall witch in layered gray robes—presumably Madam Yora was seated behind the table, scribbling something in a thick ledger with a practiced hand.

A large brass wall plate displayed hand-painted numbers, one at a time, like a marketplace raffle board. The number currently showing was thirteen, painted in red.

A few other ghosts and witches sat around the room, holding scripts with both excitement and dread on their faces. Some were whispering lines under their breath, others chewing their nails or staring blankly at the floor.

Karl sat beside Ruby slowly, hands resting stiffly on his knees.

"...Wife," he whispered nervously. "What if they laugh at me?"

Ruby turned to him, her tone calm but steady. "Then laugh with them... and try again."

Karl blinked at her. Her words sunk in slowly. Then he nodded—just once like someone preparing to walk into a storm.

He stood up and walked over to Madam Yora. She didn’t even look up as she spoke.

"Name?" she asked, quill poised.

"Karl," he said.

"Full name?"

"Umm... Karl. Ruby’s husband."

That made Madam Yora glance up at him sharply. Then her expression softened. "Ah. I see." She wrote something quickly in the ledger, tore off a small square of parchment, and handed it to him.

His number was Twenty one.

She then pulled out a folded sheet of paper from a woven basket beside her and handed it over.

"Short script," she said. "You’ll be called by number. Don’t lose it."

Karl nodded quickly, holding the paper with both hands like it was sacred.

He came back to Ruby and sat down again, his face pale but his eyes more focused now.

"What’s your number?" she asked gently.

He unfolded the parchment. "Twenty one."

Ruby smiled, brushing a piece of lint off his robe. "You’ll do fine."

Karl gave her a shy little grin. Then he looked at the script again and started mumbling the first line under his breath, completely unaware that his fingers were already acting out the character’s dramatic gestures.

Ruby leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and watching him.

Karl was fidgeting endlessly—his knees bouncing, fingers tapping the script, eyes scanning the same line for the tenth time. The paper in his hand was slightly crumpled now from his tight grip.

His lips were moving soundlessly, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. It was almost his turn—number 19 had just been called, which meant only one more before Karl’s number was up.

Without warning, Ruby snatched the script from his hands.

"Wife!!" he gasped, his voice cracking slightly as he turned to her with wide, anxious eyes. "I was reading that!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "A yes, I noticed. For the last twenty minutes. I think the paper’s memorised you at this point." She held the script just out of reach, her voice teasing but her expression serious.

"You need to breathe," she said, gently reaching for his wrist and placing her palm over his rapid pulse. "Feel that? You’re going to burn yourself out before you even get inside."

Karl swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I can’t help it, wife. I feel like I’m gonna throw up! What if I mess up? What if I forget everything?"

Ruby arched a brow. "And what if you don’t?"

He blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"What if you go in there," she said slowly, "and you say every line perfectly, and someone in that room looks at you and thinks—’That’s the one’?"

Karl bit his lip. The idea almost made him want to cry.

He looked around—there were others, yes. Some taller. Some more graceful. A particularly pretty ghost with long silver hair was practicing with soft, elegant gestures. He felt like he didn’t belong here.

His thoughts were spiraling again.

"Karl!" Ruby suddenly called firmly, grabbing his attention. Before he could react, she cupped his face between her hands, turning him toward her. His big blue eyes locked with her fierce red ones.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Stop looking around. Look at me."

He did. Slowly, his wild breathing settled.

"You love acting, right?" she asked softly.

He nodded, barely moving.

"Then don’t let fear steal it from you."

"But... what if they laugh at me?" he asked—the same question he had asked her before, once again.

"Then let them," Ruby replied with a small smile. "You’ve faced worse than laughter. You’ve faced kidnappers, poverty, even my wrath."

Karl gave a little choked laugh.

Ruby pressed her forehead to his for a moment, her voice quiet and calm. "You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be you. They’re not looking for perfection. They’re looking for someone real. Someone who feels. That’s you, Karl."

He sniffed, nodding slowly. "Wife?"

"Yes?"

"You’re going to wait for me after, right?"

"Of course I am," she said.

"Even if I run away crying?"

Ruby chuckled. "Then I’ll run after you. But I won’t let you run. You’re going to walk through that door and show them your light."

Karl took a deep breath, his hands still holding hers, and nodded.

His name was called.

He stood, shaky but with purpose now.

And just before stepping through the door, he turned back and gave her a shy, crooked smile. "I’ll do my best, wife."

"I know you will," Ruby said, pride shimmering in her eyes as she watched him walk toward the large black door nestled in the corner of the left wall. It looked intimidating and tall with an old silver handle that seemed to echo all the nervous touches of actors who had walked through it before.

To be continued... 🪄