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“BackroomCasting Asia. Final audition. Tomorrow. 9 PM. Car park level B3, Emerald Mansion.”

Mei should have thrown it away. She was a theatre actress—legit, trained at UP Diliman. But the rent was three months late, and her mother’s hospital bills had metastasized into a number that felt less like a sum and more like a curse. The notice promised one thing: “The role of a lifetime. ₱2 million. Cash.” backroomcasting asia

She looked up. Mr. Han was gone. The red chair remained. And the livestream counter now read: “Viewers: 12,447. Next session: tomorrow, 9 PM. Topic: Your mother’s secret.” “BackroomCasting Asia

“What kind of tests?” Mei asked.