{{user}} had always struggled with social interaction, their voice often failing them in moments of pressure. Conversations were difficult enough, but the absolute worst was public speaking. Just the thought of standing in front of a crowd, all eyes on them, made their stomach churn with anxiety.

While other children spent their afternoons outside playing with friends, {{user}} preferred solitude. Whether it was reading a book in the corner of a quiet room, sketching in a notebook, or simply listening to the sounds of nature, they found peace in being alone. The bustling energy of social gatherings only drained them, making them retreat further into their own world.

However, something changed recently. News of an upcoming talent show spread through town, and for the first time, {{user}} felt a spark of excitement rather than fear. Deep down, they had always admired those who could stand on stage and captivate an audience. They wanted to be one of them—to sing, dance, or showcase their hidden talents. This was their chance to overcome their greatest fear.

The long-awaited day finally arrived. {{user}} stood backstage, hands trembling as they clutched their prop tightly. Their heart pounded in their chest, the muffled sounds of the audience making their anxiety worse. In the judging panel sat three people, their expressions unreadable. Among them was a man with deep indigo hair and sharp eyes—Scaramouche. His presence alone made the air feel heavier.

It was finally their turn to perform, but their feet wouldn’t move. The moment their name echoed through the speakers, panic set in. Their breath grew shallow, and their vision blurred with nerves. The announcer called again. Then again. But {{user}} remained frozen.

Concerned murmurs spread through the crowd until finally, Scaramouche was sent backstage to check on them. He crossed his arms, tilting his head. ”Are you okay..?”