Chapter 167 167: Crabs and Narcissists
- Zeno is still awfully quiet.
- We need to make him more famous.
- How can we make him more famous when he doesn't even show himself to us?
- After they announced the cast of 'The Forsaken Prince,' I thought we would have more content, but this is just too much. There's nothing!
- Even the company is not uploading anything!
Risa, who was studying her script, stopped for a while to scroll through her Sigmoid account for any updates regarding Zeno. As expected, there weren't any.
She could imagine it was worse for other fans because they couldn't even catch a glimpse of Zeno. She, on the other hand, was going to be acting alongside him as his lover.
The thought made her cheeks warm up; however, she quickly slapped herself.
She does not feel that way about her idol!
Yeah. She thought of him as his son.
She added to the conversation.
- Let's wait for Zeno a little bit and enjoy his not-too-famous era. Once 'The Forsaken Prince' airs, he's going to be so famous.
- I agree. I've been here since he had 100 followers.
- I just wish he's taking a good rest before their filming starts!
- Yes, with all the hate regarding the casting, I wish him nothing but a stress-free break!
"I'm so stressed," Zeno muttered as they went through a last-minute practice of their short play.
The title of their play, Xeno A.I., was definitely named after him, and it wasn't going as expected.
Zeno was still wearing a mask because, in their words, he was their 'secret weapon,' and he needed a grand reveal to induce a shock factor from the audience and judges.
The auditorium at the basement of the building was filled to the brim, with people from their neighborhood, especially the housewives and unemployed men, hanging around like it was a party. They ate nuts, boiled eggs, and fresh fruits as snacks as they waited for the program to start.
There were ten performers in total, and fortunately, they were the last performers, so they could still get some much-needed practice. It felt like their week-long preparation wasn't enough as they waited for their turn.
"It's Jim's fault," they pushed, and Zeno couldn't help but agree. Despite having some experience with acting, he was the most nervous out of all of them, stuttering and forgetting the lines.
"I'm sorry," Jim muttered. "It's just been so long since I've acted."
Doha pursed his lips. "You're also the main character. We can't afford you to mess up even if Zeno is with us."
Just then, the first act, which was the team of the crab restaurant on the first floor of the building, bowed as they finished their play.
It was about a woman who worked in a crab restaurant and contracted even without sexual intercourse. It centered around how they solved the mystery of how she got it.
Zeno didn't know whether the people in this building were crazy, but it seemed they found the plot quite normal. He shook his head as their landlord, a man with shining gold jewelry and a rich aura, tapped his chin.
"Crabs team, I'm afraid it didn't meet my expectations," he started off, already sounding professional.
"While the premise had a bite, the execution was undercooked. The vocal projection was uneven—lines meant to shock barely reached the third row. Emotional beats felt shallow, with collapses of despair looking more like lazy lunges. Supporting actors lacked grounding, delivering reactions to two scenes too late. The interpretive crab dance climax, though ambitious, suffered from muddled intentions and spatial confusion. Pacing dragged like a molting crustacean, and the stakes never quite boiled. At its core, the show needed stronger objectives, cleaner blocking, and actors who knew where the fourth wall was, let alone how to break it," he commented, and Zeno was left with an agape mouth.
He turned to the gym bros. "Who is that guy?"
"Mr. Goldie," Doha cheerfully answered.
"Why is he so technical?"
"Oh, he was an actor before. But, in plays. He said he was really hot back then."
Zeno pursed his lips and massaged the bridge of his nose. It felt like the stakes had increased all of a sudden! They were going to perform in front of a literal professional.
"Don't worry, though. Mr. Goldie is kind," Doha added.
"I don't think so," Zeno said, pointing to their scores. It was a whopping 3.3 crabs out of ten, and that was because Mr. Goldie had given them merely 0.1 points, bringing down the general average from the five judges.
Because of the low score of the first performer, Jim became even more nervous.
"Oh goodness. I don't think I can do this," he muttered, pacing back and forth.
Just then, they heard a chuckle from behind them. Zeno turned around and saw the barber boys with bare upper bodies. He pursed his lips. What an unpleasant site.
"You're still with them?" Kong asked, nudging Zeno's shoulder.
Zeno remained silent.
"You're not much of a talker, are you?" he continued to tease. "How are you going to act later? Oh, and are you going to wear that mask on stage?"
The barber boys chuckled, causing Zeno to sigh.
He ignored them and continued to give pointers to the gym bros.
"Hey, we're still talking," Kong said, about to hold onto Zeno's shoulder.
However, Jim held onto his wrist before he could do so, pushing him away.
Kong raised both hands in surrender.
"My bad," he muttered sarcastically. "I didn't think you would be this confident when you can't even utter a single line."
Jim froze in frustration. Meanwhile, Kong fixed the bowtie around his neck—just a bowtie, as their shop name was called.
"Barberinos, you're up next!" Mr. Goldie exclaimed.
They smirked as they headed up the stage. The room was filled with squeals the moment they emerged. It seemed the shirtless agenda was working for them.
"You may start," Mr. Goldie said, and they wasted no time getting into their scene, bursting with confidence.
"What do you do when you're so handsome?" Kong asked, sounding sorrowful.
The others began comforting him, and it seemed their play was centered around a narcissist surrounded by other narcissists.
The plot was a fucking joke.
However, what made Zeno more conflicted wasn't the plot.
It was their acting.
Why were they quite decent? Did their barbershop conduct acting classes, too?
What do you think?
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