Zombie survivor

[47] Guy moment

The boys had been waiting in the dark, crammed into a narrow, musty room backstage. The murmurs and jeers of the crowd drifted through the thin walls, a reminder of what lay on the other side. Jean's heart hammered in his chest as he heard Joe's voice over the loudspeaker, calling him onto the stage.

Two guards shoved him forward, their hands rough as they dragged him up a few steps and out into the harsh lights of the auditorium. He blinked, momentarily blinded by the spotlight, before his vision adjusted, revealing the packed, leering crowd.

He stood stiffly on stage, dressed in a ratty shirt and worn-out jeans that had clearly been chosen to make him look rugged but unremarkable. Jean tried to steel himself, keeping his gaze fixed on the far wall, unwilling to meet the hungry eyes staring back at him.

Joe sauntered forward, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm as he addressed the crowd. "Alright, folks, up next we've got ourselves a bit of a tough one. Knows his way around a gun, decent endurance, and just a touch of that brooding hero look."

The crowd chuckled, some people muttering and sizing Jean up with a mixture of interest and indifference.

Joe glanced around, raising an eyebrow. "Starting bid is twenty liters of fuel, or equivalent goods. What do you say?"

The room was silent. A few people shifted in their seats, but no one raised a hand. Jean's heart sank as he stood there, feeling the weight of their indifference. He had tried to keep a brave face, but the lack of interest was somehow worse than any jeer or insult.

Joe's grin grew tight as he glanced back at Jean, irritation flickering across his face. "Maybe our friend here needs to show a little... enthusiasm. C'mon, kid, do something. Show them why you're worth the bid."

Jean hesitated, his mind racing. He had no idea what Joe expected him to do. He glanced at the audience, feeling a mixture of frustration and humiliation boiling in his chest. But under Joe's icy stare, he knew he couldn't afford to freeze up.

He cleared his throat, trying to project some confidence. "Uh... well, I'm trained in, like, survival tactics. I know a lot about weapons, strategy..." His voice trailed off as he realized the crowd's disinterest hadn't budged an inch.

Joe's smile grew colder, his patience clearly thinning. "Right, survival skills. How exciting. Starting bid reduced—ten liters."

The crowd murmured, but still, no one raised a hand. The silence felt heavy, a slap to Jean's pride that stung worse than he'd expected. His cheeks flushed, and he looked down, feeling exposed and humiliated under the judgmental gazes of the audience.

Joe clapped his hands, his forced smile barely hiding his frustration. "Guess we don't have any takers, then. Lead him off."

One of the guards grabbed Jean's arm, pulling him offstage before he had a chance to process what had happened. His stomach churned as he was led back into the darkness, the feeling of failure heavy on his shoulders. He glanced back at the stage, his fists clenched in silent anger and shame.

Back in the waiting area, the other boys watched Jean's return in tense silence, each of them painfully aware that they'd be facing the same ordeal. Jean sank against the wall, his face tight with frustration as he avoided their gazes.

Before anyone could speak, Joe's voice rang out over the loudspeaker again. "Up next, we've got a real treat for you! A young man with... a lot of energy. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Evan!"

Evan took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he stepped onto the stage, determined to make the most of his time in the spotlight. He'd always seen himself as a bit of a charmer, someone who knew how to get attention, and now, faced with a crowd, he slipped into his usual cringeworthy confidence.