SuperStar!

The iconic Wiltern Theatre in Los Angeles was abuzz with activity, even though the audience wouldn't arrive for several more hours. With its rich Art Deco design and seating capacity of just over 5,000, the venue offered an intimate yet grand setting—perfect for Ethan Jones' first live show. The stage was being meticulously set up by a crew of sound engineers, lighting technicians, and stagehands, their movements choreographed in a symphony of professionalism.

Ethan, standing in the middle of it all, took a deep breath. The weight of the moment pressed on him. He had performed in front of a camera countless times, but this—this was real. Live. No second takes. His fingers nervously adjusted the strap of his acoustic guitar as his eyes scanned the empty seats.

"All right, Ethan, ready for round two?" a cheerful voice called out. It was Kim, the dance instructor who had been brought in to help Ethan polish his stage presence. Despite his undeniable charisma, Ethan's movements often betrayed his inexperience, and Kim's job was to make sure he didn't just stand still like a tree during the up-tempo songs.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Ethan said, a hint of doubt in his voice. "Let's do this."

Kim clapped her hands, signaling the start of their session. "Okay, we're going to focus on transitions today. Remember, the key is to look natural. You don't have to be a professional dancer, but you do need to move with confidence."

Ethan groaned inwardly. Confidence was easy when he was holding a guitar and singing, but coordinated movement? That was a different beast entirely. Kim walked him through a sequence, demonstrating a simple step-slide combination to match the rhythm of one of his upbeat tracks. Ethan gave it a try, his movements stiff and robotic.

"Loosen up, Ethan! You're not auditioning for a robot musical," Kim teased, her tone lighthearted.

Ethan laughed despite himself. "I'm trying, okay? Dancing is not my thing."

"It doesn't have to be," Kim reassured him. "Just connect with the music. Feel it. And if all else fails, smile. A good smile can save anything."

By the end of the session, Ethan wasn't exactly gliding across the stage, but there was definite improvement. Kim gave him a thumbs-up. "See? Not bad. Keep practicing, and you'll get there."

Next, it was time to rehearse with the band. Ethan made his way backstage, where the group was waiting in the green room. The band members had been handpicked by Universal's music team—a mix of seasoned professionals and rising talent. There was Sarah on keyboards, Mike on drums, Carlos on bass, and Leo, the lead guitarist, who had an energy that matched Ethan's own.

"Hey, man," Leo greeted Ethan, handing him a bottle of water. "Ready to make some magic?"

Ethan smiled. "Always."

The band rehearsals had been a highlight of Ethan's preparation for the show. Despite their diverse backgrounds, the group had clicked almost instantly. They shared a camaraderie that made the long hours of practice feel less like work and more like a jam session among friends. Today, they focused on perfecting the transitions between songs, ensuring the setlist flowed seamlessly.

"Let's run through 'Blinding ligths' again," Sarah suggested, adjusting her sheet music. "The bridge needs to be tighter."

Ethan nodded, stepping up to the microphone as Mike counted them in. As the band played, Ethan's nerves melted away. This was his comfort zone—the music, the lyrics, the connection. By the time they finished the song, even Sarah was nodding in approval.

"That's the one," she said. "If we can bring that energy tonight, we're golden."

After several hours of rehearsals, Ethan was finally given a break. He retreated to the showroom, a quiet space near the main hall where he could rest. The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of distant activity providing a soothing backdrop. Ethan sank into a plush armchair, his body aching from the day's exertions.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through messages of encouragement from friends and family. A video call notification from his sister popped up, and he answered with a tired smile.

"How's my rockstar brother doing?" she teased.

"Exhausted but good," Ethan replied. "Just trying not to mess this up."

"You're going to be amazing," she assured him. "Just be yourself. That's why people love you."

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Bill, Ethan's manager, stepped inside, his ever-present clipboard in hand.

"Sorry to interrupt," Bill said, his voice gentle but firm. "Ethan, it's time."

Ethan ended the call and stood, stretching. "Time for what?"

"The show starts in a few hours. I need you to do a final sound check, and then we'll go over the schedule one last time," Bill explained. "You ready?"

Ethan took a deep breath, his nerves bubbling up again. But as he looked at Bill, he nodded. "Yeah. Let's do this."

As they walked out of the room and toward the stage, Ethan couldn't help but glance back at the empty seats one last time. In just a few hours, they'd be filled with people—fans who believed in him, who had supported him from the beginning. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"This is it," Ethan thought to himself, gripping the neck of his guitar a little tighter. "This is where it all begins."