Alone. Only Art from the Beginning

The Dome.

A humongous structure made with an insanely high budget that was the contribution of many anonymous celebrities who agreed that it would be beneficial for the youth and the public's entertainment to hold a yearly idol competition.

Where those all around the world could be motivated to participate, bringing together humanity weakly with a viewership, at its peak, rivaling the World Cup. This succeeded as the cutting-edge technology implemented in The Dome's build made it a tourist attraction and known across the globe to be 'The place dreams come true'.

'Star Maker' is what some have dubbed The Dome's competition.

There hasn't been a single winner of Star Maker who hasn't reached untouchable levels of fame and money. It is the place many die to hold major events, modeling shows, or perform at -- even the celebrities you would consider S-tier have to work hard to be granted access to The Dome.

When Art was abandoned by her parents at birth and then again sold by her orphanage at 16, she came to expect very little for her future. Nobody in this world would care whether she lived or died and with no power to protect herself, her soul had become intimate with the feeling of death that lurked the corner of every step in her life. 

Although, this turn of events was out of the ordinary for even her unpredictable and bleak world.

In a lavish room with multiple masked staff members running around her -- some worried about her outfits, another her hair and makeup… Art sat in a moment of disbelief. She had not uttered a word since she was taken into the back of a dark vehicle with blacked-out windows and then escorted through an underground parking lot into an all-white hallway that led to this exact room. 

Nothing was explained to her. Not like she had a choice anyway, but Art just went with everything she was gestured to do by the strangers. Putting her hands up as she was stripped, measured, dressed, matched for foundation, and had products blown into her jet-black hair. 

The room was now messier than when she entered with the couch behind her being full of bags and leftover material, makeup, and more. In front of her wasn't any better with the huge mirror lights burning into her face and eyes. The counter overflowed with expensive products. Even the chair she sat in felt extremely luxurious and unnatural.

In fact, the first time anybody even spoke to her was when a different staff member walked into her room with a clipboard. Art looked up at him to see his face wasn't completely covered by a hat, thick glasses, and mask. He actually wore a tag around his neck as well, an improvement from the NPCs that had been running around her like frantic rats for almost an hour now.

"Well hello there!" 

A cheery voice came out of the older man. His low-turned eyes emanated gentleness that was indescribable to Art and it for some reason made her want to cry. Holding back the lump in her throat, she looked down at her lap. Fingernails bloody around the edges with how much she was subconsciously picking into them.

When was the last time someone looked at me so kindly?

The depressing thought popped into her head but quickly passed.

The staff member, seemingly in his late 30s and with a great understanding of the younger girl's emotions, looked for a stool to sit on. So he and Art could be eye to eye. When he was finally settled to her right, the young girl's makeup was finished and her hair was getting a final comb through. The staff in the room had also lessened considerably with only two left; one packing to go and one working on the finishing touches on her head.

She seems to be the introvert type. The man inwardly sighed. She looked the most dead-eyed while being brought in. God knows what she's seen. After a quick scan of the profile he had pulled up on his clipboard, he looked back up.

Well, I guess this is what I am paid for.

The gradual calmness that entered the room now that it was only the two of them helped Art to better control her emotions. She took a breath and looked at the man who was waiting for her to calm herself. He flashed a charming smile as another greeting and waited for her to return it. 

Art replied with an extremely toothy, and awkward smile.

Alright…? The man thought at the girl's failed attempt to smile.

"You can call me Manager as I will mostly be the one in charge of you and the rest of the other candidates in Section A. And you?"

Of course, he already knew her name. The gentleman -- at least in Art's eyes -- knew everything about her that there was to know from the orphanage. The question was a useful tactic nonetheless to get comfortable with his candidates. 

"A-artyste…" Art's voice was shy and quiet.

One-word answers. It's to be expected with her type.

"How would you like me to pronounce that?" He asked in an attempt to get her to open up.

"However you want…"

Plus no sense of identity. As he jotted down notes on the clipboard, Art looked anxiously at him.

Is he taking notes on me? I've only talked twice and he's already written so much!

"O-or you can just call me art." She timidly added.

"Alright! Yeah, we can work with that!" Manager enthusiastically gave a thumbs up which made Art quite joyful.

Responds well to praise. Probably the people-pleaser type. Could be from abandonment issues in her upbringing…

Manager was thoroughly creating an analysis of Art just as he did with the rest. It didn't help she was so easy to read either.

"I'm sure you guessed already but I am here to explain to you what's happening and what the plan is moving forward."

He waited for a response and all Art did was nod.

Zero enthusiasm? She doesn't care? Or go with the flow type? Eh.

"In a matter of 10 minutes, you will be called into the hall which you will find with the help of the helper bots outside. I'm sure you were acquainted with them as you made your way in."

Robots? I was so anxious I barely noticed. Art tried to recall.

The interior was extremely high-tech with cameras and screens placed everywhere so it wasn't hard to believe robots were also helping within the facility.

The manager looked at his clipboard to recheck her origins. Seeing she came from severe poverty he was sure she had no idea what 'The Dome' was so he started to explain from the top...

—---

A delicate and distorted voice came through the intercoms which Art hadn't even noticed were in the corners of the room. It scared her out of her clothes as she was snooping around the corners of the space since Manager had left her alone some minutes ago.

<All 5 candidates make their way to main section hall. Walk in the direction screens on wall point and if lost helper bots are surveying area. Find one immediately. You have minutes>

Art stood before the mirror in front of her. Her outfit had a colorful and pastel pallet. Colorful clips stood out in her hair and there were many ruffles around the bottom of the dress and shoulders of the undershirt. It gave her a cheerful image with her pale skin and skinny limbs making her look as unthreatening as possible.

Kind of like a cute hamster.

Rechecking her collar, the number was now 5134.

Manager had put it on her without much difficulty before he left and at the time, it read 5135. She remembered because the number started in 5 and ended in 5.

Did it go down one? She wondered to herself but was quickly snapped back to reality with the commotion that began in the hallway.

Shit. I only have 5 minutes and there are 5100 kids?' She quickened her pace to the door and grabbed the handle. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath, readying her mind and body for the chaos outside.

Art was once again made to fend for herself after being thrown into a whole new world.