I Accidentally Became A Superstar - Chapter 394 394: One Week (of Smiles)

The judges exchanged glances the moment Zeno’s overly polite compliments ended.

Gene PD raised a brow. Why the sudden flattery? His fingers tapped against the table, eyes tracking Zeno’s posture.

Janie J, however, smirked faintly, leaning back in her chair. “He’s not going to get us with that,” she murmured under her breath, amused but unmoved.

On stage, Zeno’s teammates knew exactly what had just happened.

‘What the hell is he doing?’ Phoenix thought, jaw tightening. Daniel’s mouth curled in a faint scoff, though his eyes glinted with fire. Billy rolled his shoulders, suppressing a sharp exhale, and Oska gave the faintest shake of his head.

None of them commented aloud, but inside, the reaction was unanimous.

Oh, so that’s how it is.

Zeno smirked to himself. Two birds, one stone—quest completed, and his team’s annoyance sharpened into focus. They would push harder, not to prove him wrong, but to make sure they proved themselves right. There has been an unspoken competition between them ever since this morning, and it intensified further.

It turned out exactly as he wanted.

Meanwhile, in the viewing room, the other contestants didn’t know what to expect from them.

Every other team had been seen rehearsing—some openly practicing in shared spaces, some fine-tuning lines in hallways—but Zeno’s team had kept their preparations sealed away, never once running the full number in front of anyone else. Rumors had floated around that they were a mess and that their teamwork was in shambles.

So, everyone was curious how their play would turn out.

“Do you know how it goes?” Risa asked Misha.

Misha shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Shin pursed his lips. “Zeno saw our production, but I haven’t seen theirs. I have a hunch that they fought. Zeno’s been too quiet these days.”

“Zeno’s always quiet,” Suho chuckled.

Shin also chuckled. “Well, quieter than usual.”

“I saw them fighting,” Hero revealed. “It was really tense. They didn’t even feel my presence! Zeno was scolding them, and I felt it straight to my heart.”

Risa bit her lip. “I wonder if they’re alright now.”

Well, they were going to find out.

The house lights dimmed.

The opening piano chords bounced out into the auditorium. A gentle brush of cymbals followed.

A single spotlight illuminated Monday, played by Oska, dressed in stained overalls and holding a battered toolbox. He wiped his hands on a rag and launched straight in.

“Cairo’s hot this time of year.

I was fixing a car when the phone rang.

Dad’s dying.

So I left the car.

And the client.

And the bill.

Because when you’re the oldest…

…you go.”

He stepped onto a moving walkway set piece, the “Home” sign glowing in the backdrop. His vocals were firm and confident.

“There’s a silence I haven’t heard in years…

And it sat with me on the flight.

Like oil under my fingernails.

Or the way he used to say,

‘Be a man, and don’t look back.'”

Then, he sighed and spoke, “But I’m looking now. At all of it.”

The spotlight shifted to Tuesday—Phoenix—lounging in a robe, mug in hand. He appeared more relaxed than Monday, leaning against the couch like he owned the home.

“He never made me leave.

Everyone else ran.

But I stayed.

Isn’t that love?

Isn’t that… worth something?

I cook. I fix the thermostat.

I say, ‘Dad, your pills.’

I let him call me a good boy.

Even now.”

A comedic shrug punctuated the verse, earning a few chuckles from the audience. His timing was easy, conversational, but his pitch was accurate.

“Phoenix is really quite good,” Janie muttered to herself.

“I know what they all think.

Lazy. Leech. Loser.

But I’m the one who stayed.

Doesn’t that count?”

The music swung into Wednesday’s entrance—Zeno in a suit and a briefcase in hand, pacing across the stage.

“He looks hot in a suit.”

That was Ian. Don’t mind him.

The musical actors were surprised by how he turned out on the screen. They were all handsome, don’t get them wrong. But there was something about Zeno that made him glow. However, that didn’t mean they were going to be easy on him.

In fact, they expected even more from his singing skills.

Zeno began to sing, his voice sounding fuller than the other two. The musical actors straightened in their seats because his enunciation and way of singing were the most similar to how they sang.

“The nurse said it’s days.

I said I’d move my meetings.

I didn’t.”

The piano shifted to minor, and he started walking slowly like he was stuck in a loop.

“I bought him the meds.

I sent him the money.

I never asked for ‘thanks.'”

He paused.

“But I thought I’d get one.”

“He kept the house because I paid for it.

He smiled at Tuesday because he was there.

He told Thursday he was proud.”

Although the music was light, the lyrics were sadder than they thought. “This writing,” Misha said. “He portrays it so well.”

“And me?

The responsible one?

The adult?

Just a bank account with legs.”

Then came Thursday—Daniel—emerging solemnly from stage left, rosary in hand, suitcase trailing. He was in a white vestment, making sure the camera got his good angle.

“I prayed when the plane took off.

Prayed harder when it landed.

And I prayed…

That this would be easy.”

Daniel was a decent singer, the weakest of all of them, but he held himself well. With the determination to beat Zeno, his voice became even stronger, and it didn’t lag behind compared to their previous practices.

“It never is.

God gives us family and says,

‘Now love them.’

But he doesn’t explain how.”

Finally, the spotlight went to Friday—Billy—in a hoodie, headphones, and a backpack on one of his shoulders. With only his demeanor, it could be seen that he was the youngest.

“I don’t know him like they do.

I was six when Mom died.

They say he changed.

They say he used to laugh.

That’s not the man I knew.

He just… sat.

And sometimes he’d hold me.

Sometimes not.

He forgot birthdays.

But not hers.

He’s not a bad guy, but I wonder why.

Why can’t I find love within him?”

All five brothers converged on the center stage, shooting each other subtle glares as they walked to the entrance of their childhood home.

“We are five.

We are broken.

We are tired.

We are back.”

They began singing together now, their voices contrasting with each other well. It was clear they were trying to outsing each other, but it actually fit the theme of the story.

“He called,

And we answered.

Not with joy.

But something close.”

They tried to smile, but it was clear they still hated each other.

“One week of smiles.

One week of masks.

Pretend we’re fine,

Don’t let it crack.”

Zeno’s voice stood out among them. It was the clearest out of all the voices, and it grounded the performance, balancing the chaos and annoyance they felt for each other.

“Swallow the grudge, the years, the weight.

It’s only seven days… we can lie that straight.”

“One week of silence, we will fill with noise.

One week to remember, we were once his boys.

Don’t fight. Don’t fall. Just try to stay kind…

For one week… for Dad… we rewind.”

The final pose froze—five cheesy grins plastered across their faces, spotlights flashing like camera shutters. Zeno turned his head, breaking the fourth wall with a perfectly timed deadpan.

“I give it one day before someone stabs another.”

The room erupted—some in laughter, some in startled murmurs.

Janie’s brows shot up. “Well, they’ve been practicing,” she said under her breath, noting their improved tone and range. Quite frankly, she didn’t expect it to be so good.

Bacon PD scribbled something on his notes. When he wrote this story, he had a vision for it. He couldn’t judge it straight away, but for this first number, it was exactly as how he envisioned it.

Gene PD’s eyes narrowed slightly—not in disapproval, but in recognition.

Mr. Kim, on the other hand, pursed his lips. So, it was true that Zeno was a good singer, too. He was even better live than what he heard over the television.

Meanwhile, the other contestants in the viewing room whispered to each other.

“Zeno’s voice is so clear,” Ian muttered.

“All of their voices are good,” Suho chimed. “I think that’s why Oska formed their team in the first place.

Oska, Daniel, Phoenix, Billy, and Zeno were still catching their breath, but the change in their expressions was clear. There was smoldering heat in their eyes. They had poured so much energy into the performance, but it increased their determination even more.

And under it all, there was something undeniable.

Gene PD’s gaze swept across the five of them.

“Hate is their theme, right?” he said quietly.

Then his eyes narrowed further.

“Why does it feel like they really hate each other?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com