The Guest Room is not haunted

Chapter 11 – Lingering Echoes

Lillian Cho leans back in her chair, pen still poised above her clipboard, unmoving. The last time she felt like this after an audition was… well, never.

Darren Holt clears his throat. The skeptical, unimpressed judge for once has no sarcastic remark. He shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers against the table. Unusual.

Professor Grant exhales through his nose, his fingers steepled under his chin. His expression is unreadable—thoughtful, but tense.

Finally, Darren lets out a slow breath. "That was…" He hesitates, searching for the right word, and settles on, "Different."

Lillian finally moves, tapping her clipboard as if trying to ground herself back in reality. "Not just different," she murmurs. "That was something else."

Grant rubs his chin. "He wasn't just reciting lines. He was inside them. The way he delivered them, the presence he carried—it felt natural, but also…" He hesitates, his gaze distant.

"Wrong?" Lillian supplies.

Darren scoffs, but it lacks his usual bite. "Oh, come on. The kid gave a good performance. Creepy? Sure. But that's the role, isn't it?"

Lillian turns to him, studying his face. "You didn't feel that?"

Darren opens his mouth—pauses. His shoulders shift uncomfortably. Instead of answering, he flips to a new page in his notes.

Professor Grant lets out a slow exhale. "Acting is about transformation. But that… that didn't feel like transformation." He folds his hands on the table. "It felt like possession."

The word hangs in the air.

Darren scoffs, louder this time, as if trying to dispel the thought. "Oh, come on. Now you're making it weird."

But no one laughs.

Lillian crosses her arms. "You have to admit, something was off."

Darren rolls his eyes. "Fine. Maybe it was a little too convincing. Maybe the kid's better than we thought. Maybe we're all just overanalyzing because we're tired."

Silence.

Then, softly, Grant murmurs, "Did you hear that?"

Lillian blinks. "Hear what?"

Grant shakes his head. "I could've sworn…" He trails off, his eyes scanning the dimly lit auditorium. For just a second, he looks… uneasy. But he doesn't finish his sentence.

Darren shifts again in his seat. "Okay, can we just move on? We still have more auditions to sit through."

Lillian exhales through her nose. "Right." She glances at her notes—only to realize she never wrote anything down for Sam.

The space next to his name is blank.

That almost never happens.

She frowns, twirling her pen before finally writing:

Memorable. Too much?

Professor Grant, still deep in thought, finally mutters, "I want to see what he does in rehearsals."

Darren shrugs. "Yeah. If nothing else, it'll be fun watching him freak people out."

Lillian doesn't respond.

Because for some reason, she has the strange, creeping feeling—

Sam wasn't the only one on that stage.

Sam stepped off the stage, his breath still uneven. His skin felt too tight, his limbs heavier than they should have been, like he had exerted something more than just effort.

The moment he rejoined his friends, Ethan clapped him on the back, his grin wide. "That was insane, man. Where did that come from?"

Sam let out a breathy laugh, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the weight clinging to them. "Guess I just… got in the zone."

Ethan chuckled. "If that was you in the zone, I'm terrified of what happens when you go all in."

Sam smirked, but Alex didn't laugh.

He was watching Sam carefully, his brow slightly furrowed. His usual easygoing demeanor was gone, replaced by something quieter. Studious.

"Dude, relax," Sam said, forcing another laugh. "It's just acting."

Alex didn't immediately respond. He just nodded, though the look didn't quite leave his face.

Before they could talk further, the next audition began, and they were ushered off to the side.

The waiting area buzzed with conversation. Students murmured about their performances, speculating about who would get a callback. Some were confident, others less so.

Lucas leaned against the wall, arms crossed, wearing his usual unimpressed expression. "I think we all know who's making the list," he said with an easy shrug. "Victoria had the strongest presence."

Victoria tilted her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh? You sure about that?" She turned toward Sam, eyes sharp with curiosity. "I think our friend here gave us all a run for our money."

Sam scratched the back of his neck. "I wouldn't go that far."

Victoria hummed, unconvinced. "It was different. Unexpected."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "It was intense, sure. But a role like that? It's about consistency, not just one good scene."

Sam didn't argue. He wasn't even sure what had happened back there.

As the conversation shifted, he noticed Alex standing a little apart from the group, arms folded. Every now and then, his eyes flicked toward Sam, like he was waiting for something.

Sam frowned. "Dude, seriously, what's up?"

Alex hesitated before shaking his head. "Nothing. Just thinking."

The longer they waited, the more the fatigue settled in. Sam found himself zoning out, his gaze drifting toward the dim corner of the auditorium.

And then he saw it.

A figure. Just barely outside the reach of the lights.

It wasn't moving. Just standing there. Watching.

A cold prickle crawled up his spine. His fingers curled against his knee, his breath slowing.

Then—

He blinked.

Gone.

The space was empty. Just shadows.

His jaw tensed. He forced himself to exhale and looked away. Stress. That's all it was. He was still coming down from the adrenaline of performing.

But the weight in his limbs didn't fade.

The judges returned. Lillian Cho stepped forward, reading from a list.

"Victoria Langley."

Victoria nodded, unsurprised.

"Lucas Myers."

Another predictable pick.

Lillian continued, listing off a few more names before—

"Samuel Lin."

For a second, Sam wasn't sure he'd heard right.

Ethan grinned and clapped him on the back. "Knew it."

Sam nodded slowly, absorbing it. He wasn't sure why, but the announcement didn't bring excitement. Only a strange, creeping unease.

His gaze flicked toward the judges. Lillian's expression was unreadable, but for just a second—only a second—her eyes lingered on him.

Then she looked away.

As they gathered their things to leave, Sam passed by one of the auditorium windows.

And that was when he saw it.

His reflection.

For a heartbeat, it wasn't quite right.

His posture was the same, his movements mirrored perfectly—but the face looking back at him wasn't his.

Not exactly.

The expression was different. Sharper. A sliver of amusement that he wasn't feeling.

The corner of its mouth curled.

Sam's breath caught.

Then, in the next blink, it was normal again. Just his own tired face staring back at him.

He swallowed hard, turning away.

Maybe he was just seeing things.

Maybe.

---END.