Rewind With A Superstar System-Chapter 38: Replaceable

<🎧 Song Recommendation: You’re Somebody Else by flora cash>

...

Seven excruciating days went by for the contestants in the Star Mansion. They were handled like raw clay by Marco and forcefully molded to become near-perfect dancers.

There was no single day off, as they practiced every evening until they couldn’t walk anymore, just as Marco had promised. Although it was optional to attend the evening sessions, not a single one of them took it lightly.

For most of them, it was their shot at standing a chance in the next round. And for those who didn’t need the training, like Julian and the rest, it was still a chance for potential screen time.

Now, on the last day, Marco had gathered all of them after the first part of their final training. He paced back and forth, holding his clipboard like a weapon of war.

"Line up!" he barked.

The contestants scrambled into position, panting heavily from the strenuous session. Marco did a quick headcount and his eyes narrowed. These past days only had twenty-three of them coming back, but today they were twenty-four

It didn’t take rocket science to spot the imposter.

"Hey, you. You with the purple eyes."

Von looked up immediately. He had decided to attend this final session, just in case they briefed them on something important. He didn’t trust Julian and Max enough to listen in for him.

Marco stormed over, stopping inches from Von’s face.

"So you finally decided to attend?" Marco’s voice was low. "Who do you think you are? You think you own the place? You think you are too good to sweat with the rest of them!?"

Everyone was surprised by the sudden outburst. From the red, vein-popping face of Marco, it was clear he was being dead serious.

Von didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t exactly explain that he felt like it was of no use to him. So, he tried to maintain a straight face as the muscular man vibrated with rage.

"Are you trying to laugh!?" Marco screamed, misinterpreting Von’s neutral expression as mockery.

"No—" Von was about to object and explain it wasn’t how it seemed.

"GET OUT!" Marco interrupted him with a screech that echoed in the room. "Leave my class now! I do not train nincompoops! Get out!"

The man was genuinely furious, looking like he might actually throw a punch. Von, realizing this was a losing battle, nodded and calmly walk out without stressing him, ignoring the sympathetic glances and the confused stares of the others.

"That bastard. He isn’t going anywhere with this behavior," Marco was heaving and panting as he faced the group again. The contestants remained silent, terrified of becoming the next target.

***

After leaving the studio, Von walked down the hallway. With nothing to do and feeling energetic from the pill compared to others he left behind, he considered testing out a few chords in the music room.

But before he ascended the stairs, he saw a familiar face coming around the corner.

"Yo, you! What’s the name again?" Michael asked, flashing his wide smile. He was dressed casually in jeans and a blazer, looking far more relaxed than his stage persona.

"Von."

"Yeah, Von! That’s it." Michael pointed a finger gun at him. "Don’t you have Choreography classes right now? I was on my way there to check on the progress. Or are you not attending?"

Von saw where this was going and decided to reply honestly.

"Uh, I was just there. But the instructor kicked me out, so I’m about heading to the music room now."

Michael sighed and pat his shoulder. "Ah, shit. That must have sucked. But hey, good luck with the music!"

Von was surprised by how calmly Michael reacted. He was expecting annoyance, or perhaps a lecture on professionalism. But he got none of that.

"I appreciate you, Mr. Michael." Von gave him the mock two-finger salute he was used to receiving from him.

Michael laughed, returning the gesture before continuing down the hall toward the dance studio.

Von watched him go, then turned and headed up the stairs.

He reached the Music Room door, reaching into his pocket for his keycard. But as he handled his joggers, he realized they didn’t have pockets.

"Dammit."

He realized he had left his Keycard in the pocket of his bomber jacket. And he had taken his bomber jacket off in the Dance Studio right before they began.

"I can’t believe I have to go back in there."

He turned around and trudged back down the stairs. He hoped he could just slip in, grab the jacket from the bench near the door, and slip out without Marco noticing.

He reached the double doors of the Grand Dance Studio and pushed one open, expecting to see them still training. But the room was silent.

There was no music nor sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor.

Von pushed the door open wider.

The contestants were dismissed, he could see them gathering their bags on the far side of the room, whispering nervously.

In the center of the room, Marco was standing with his arms crossed. Michael stood opposite him.

The atmosphere was cold.

Von hesitated, then stepped in to grab his jacket from the bench. The movement caught Michael’s eye.

"Uh. I forgot my keycard."

He expected Marco to explode again. But Marco didn’t even look at him. The choreographer was staring at the floor, his face a mixture of red-hot anger and defeat.

Von grabbed his jacket. "Did... anything happen?"

Michael turned to Von. His face was no longer the cheerful Host’s face. It was cold and business-like.

"Marco will no longer be working with us," Michael said simply.

Von’s eyes widened. "What?"

He looked at Marco, who was aggressively stuffing his whistle and clipboard into a duffel bag.

"Is it because of me?" Von asked with a wry smile. He understood the pain of losing a job, and he didn’t want to be the reason for someone’s poss. "I can apologize. I shouldn’t have skipped the former classes... It was a minor disagreement—"

"It’s not about you, Von. Not entirely," Michael cut him off, and others listened in. "We’ve been reviewing the footage from the past week. The verbal abuse and the excessive physical strain."

Michael glanced at Marco. "We hired a professional to train stars, not a drill sergeant to break them. We can’t have liability issues. If a contestant gets injured because they were forced to hold a squat for an hour, that’s a lawsuit. If the audience sees a grown man bullying teenagers, that’s bad PR."

Marco zipped his bag shut with a violent zip.

"You want soft idols? Fine," Marco spat, looking at Michael with disrespect. "Enjoy your mediocrity."

Marco stormed past Von, shouldering him hard as he exited the room.

Von stood there in surprise, wondering how everything had changed so quickly.

"This industry is cruel, Von. But it’s also a business. Marco forgot that you guys are the product. You don’t damage the merchandise before it hits the shelf."

Michael clapped Von on the shoulder. It was a grounding pat.

"Take this as a lesson. Everyone is replaceable. Even the staff. Now, go get some rest. Starting tomorrow, you’re on your own. Team practice run for a week."