The Spotlight

Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I decided to keep the same judges Tulisa, Nicole, and Louis with Gary returning back to the show a few years later. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

As I stand backstage, my heart races with a potent mix of nerves and anticipation. The energy in the air is electric—a palpable buzz that seems to permeate every fiber of my being. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the butterflies in my stomach refuse to be tamed.

Suddenly, a familiar face appears before me. It's Dermot, the charismatic host of the show, with his warm smile radiating a sense of reassurance and support. "Are you ready?" he asks. "You've got this. Remember, just be yourself," his voice laced with genuine kindness.

His words wash over me like a soothing balm, easing the tension that has coiled itself around my heart. I nod, feeling a flicker of gratitude amidst the swirling emotions.

"Alright, the judges are ready; you can head onto the stage," Dermot adds, giving my shoulder a supportive pat. It's a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—a silent gesture to be strong for the challenge that lies ahead.

With a deep breath, I gather my courage and step onto the stage, the bright lights immediately engulfing me in their intense glare. The nerves that had momentarily subsided come rushing back with a vengeance, threatening to overwhelm me as I face the scrutiny of the judges.

But amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces in the audience, one stands out, catching my eye with an unmistakable warmth. It's Louis' friendly demeanor that is a beacon of comfort in this daunting moment. "Hello there!" he greets me, his Irish lilt infusing his words with a disarming charm. "What's your name, and how old are you?"

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice amidst the nerves that threaten to steal it away. "I'm Riley Scott, and I'm 29 years old," I manage to say, my words sounding small and uncertain even to my ears.

As Louis continues with his casual questions, I find my gaze drawn to another figure on the panel. It's Gary; his presence is commanding and magnetic, even from a distance. He's wearing a dark blue polo that seems to accentuate the strength of his frame, and under the stage lights, his skin radiates with a captivating glow.

For a moment, I'm lost in the sight of him, my mind struggling to reconcile the larger-than-life persona with the man sitting before me. But Louis's voice cuts through my reverie, bringing me back to the present with a jolt.

"So, Riley, what do you do for a living?" He asks, his tone friendly yet probing. "And do you have any support with you here today?"

The questions catch me off guard, and I feel a lump forming in my throat as I grapple with the sudden shift in the conversation. "I... I work at a pub," I stammer, my voice wavering despite my best efforts to keep it steady. "And no, I don't have much family support. It's just me here today."

I can feel the weight of their gazes upon me, the unspoken curiosity, and perhaps even the pity that lingers in the air. The vulnerability of the moment threatens to unravel me, and I find myself struggling to maintain my composure.

"Oh, and why is that?" Louis asks, trying to delve deeper into my personal life. A knot is forming in the pit of my stomach. The topic of my family is a sensitive one—a wound that hasn't quite healed. The absence of a support system weighs heavily on my mind, but I'm not ready to share the details of my solitary existence with millions of viewers. The vulnerability of the moment threatens to overwhelm me, and I struggle to maintain my composure under the scrutiny of the judges and the audience. I know I need to respond, but the words seem to stick in my throat, my voice threatening to betray the emotions I'm desperately trying to conceal.