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She felt much better as soon as the jacket was on, covering thankfully mostly everything since Milo was taller then she was. She rolled up the sleeves a bit, as to not ruin them and then looked at him...then back to the ground.

"Well...Miss Cee pushed me off the stage to come get you?" Noemi hesitated before holding her hand out, "Do you want to come with me up there? Or...Or I can stay here until they call my name again...Maybe if they do..." She looked over at the judges, "I don't think I am doing so well because there is much better girls." Also it was amazing to see all the talent up there, when all she had done was flounder uselessly.

She even had time to catch Peyton's dance and was extremely counsice that she couldn't do those things. "She's very good!" She blinked again. She didn't miss Cee's motion and just waved at the woman because that's what she assumed Cee was doing.

"Aaa, okay." And still oblivious to the ebony haired girl's intentions really, because it just seemed innocent enough to him to send their mutual little friend out. "I can go with ya, no problem." Milo was already half way out of his seat, partly due to removing his jacket anyways. Going down didn't seem like a terrible idea really, he'd be able to cheer his friends on at a better vantage point anyways.

"I can be your muscle," he joked. "Anyone gives ya trouble, got your back." (Though, it seemed like Noemi herself was her biggest adversary right now, shame really).

(Okay, that time he did hear Cee but it did sound like she was simply cheering on other people).

"She is, yeah." The brunet replied, giving the smaller Hunter a slight push so they could start their way back down to the stage. "But you're doing amazin' too, Noemi-chan." He told her, full of enthusiasm, "dude, I'm so proud of you. You got on stage to begin with!" First steps to being more self confident, right?

There were few things Marcus felt he was good at that could be made into anything like a performance. And the skill he did have after a few months of doing so on his own wasn't exactly a performance for anyone who well... wasn't into that sort of thing. But he'd chosen it. He'd known it would be what he needed to do. It was why he'd signed up and why he'd come wearing the full suit. And had a bucket of water set aside.

I have been waiting for such a day for far, far too long.

Walking onto the stage fully dressed, the first comment came from what he considered peanut gallery.
"I like everything except you." The comment was fair enough given the fact he wasn't undressed in the slightest.
"Yeah well give me a minute to start-"
"WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE POKEMON."
"It's Arcanine now if you'll allow me-" coat folded neatly and set at the front of the stage, "-to begin."

There wasn't any musical accompaniment to his act, just the fact he was alone, on stage, an in a suit.
Which he began to strip off of himself at a casual, leisurely pace. While the trainee also had a stripping act, Marcus's was less vegas and more... whatever the hell it was. Taking off a tailored suit. He knew what women liked, (his wife and a few men who told him what women liked), and apparently that was a man in a well dressed suit. And what would be hotter then than a man stripping off the suit?

Shoes slipped off reveling oddly colorful clownfish socks, he kept them on as he moved to pull off his tie.
It was all very drawn out and was made only slightly awkward because his eye contact might have been at the distance yet it was passing right by Leon.
Sorry Leon.
But not that sorry.

Vest, shirt belt in that order. Moment taken to flex and stretch out his muscles. White undershirt remained where it was as he folded each item and tossed them into a semi-neat pile. After that came the pants... and the reviel that yes, he still had gone and taken time to put his swimsuit on under it all.

Done stripping, he walked over to his bucket of water, walked back to the middle of the stage-

-and dumped it over himself, soaking the shirt so it would become translucent and stick to his skin. Bucket tossed off the stage, he stood, streched and flexed for a bit then slicked his hair back.
"......You're welcome."

Eye contact with the judges Zoe was the one who offered her thoughts.
"I like everything except you."

"Yeah well I like everything but me as well so whatever. I still have the balls to be here." Picking up his pile of clothes, Marcus walked off the stage.

He'd faced his fear now he was going to sit down in a chair and drip dry.

Chel sunk further in her seat, only having one more message to send.



She turned to Finn and said, "Tell your boyfriend he's a d**k when you see him."

To top it all off, Stormy was now on stage. Ugh. Come to think of it, where was Nevada? A silly contest like this seemed like something she'd enter with a friend, particularly if Stormy was doing it. "Hey Evan, you see Nevada anywhere?" she asked him, sitting up slightly in her chair. Come to think of it, Chel hadn't seen her around much at all.

Chel immediately recoiled a bit from Evan, but for the wrong reasons. "Never pegged you for a touchy feely guy, Evan. No big though- we broke up a while ago. Super over feeling sorry about it."

She leaned back in her chair and added, "Where's she gone?"

Chel's casual expression slowly diminished into something much more lackluster. Not quite sadness, just a sort of strange diminished neutral.

"How long ago?" she said. It was odd, because she wasn't feeling overcome with emotions. Wasn't she supposed to be really upset or crying or something? Why didn't she feel sad?

She was trying to keep her voice down, since there WAS a pageant going on. "And who says "gone on ahead" you ******** nerd."

Finn had a headache, and it had all started the moment Ian came rolling over with his cotton candy haired and much too cheerful personal aid in tow. He hadn't liked being played with, propositioned, and promised something that was anything but what the other person actually intended. Cold feet or not, still carrying a torch for his ex-whatever or not, it was annoying as ********, and the little jabs and insults to his character and personality were definitely only exasperating these indignant feelings further. Normally, Finn would respond with cutting jabs of his own, teases and innuendos.

But he remained almost eerily silent, letting the words roll over him, offering little more then cold smiles and slight nods of his head in response to most everyone's contributions. Oliver was texting with somebody, his skittish behavior not going unnoticed, and Finn's own phone was vibrating away in his pocket, though a quick glance was all he needed before he pocketed the phone, eye drifting over the crowd and towards his giant friend who was seated, of course, as far away from the crowd as he could get.

The competition had started, but it was in that boring stage of Q&A that Finn barely listened to, his attention on so many other things but seemingly on nothing at all, as he watched the interactions of those around him. Studying, judging, and ignoring.

But something brought everything back into sharp focus. Ripley's arrival, along with words that earned him a sharp look and a smirk that lifted the edge of his mouth. "Yes. I believe I do. After the show. Unless you're offering to go fetch one for me now." He shifted in his seat, head tilting back and forth as he stretched his neck, as though just waking from a nap. Oliver ran away, and Finn didn't bother complaining or trying to stop him, though he would be sure to let the other man know what a shitty date he was later. Patting the now vacated seat beside him, he raised an eyebrow at Ripley, a silent urging for him to sit and enjoy the show, or whatever was left of it. Finn could now see that they had moved on to the much more exciting bikini contest phase of the competition, but even that, now, wasn't enough to ease his rankled, yet carefully hidden, nerves.

When Chel spoke to him, Finn dropped his gaze from Ripley's and turned towards her, "Which boyfriend, Darling?" Though he barely had to guess, considering who he was talking to and the one man they were mutually friends with.

He'd totally overheard the Nevada comment, however, and bit his tongue against interrupting and saying anything.

Averting his gaze from that train wreck about to happen, Finn looked towards Shiloh and smiled at him, in as pleasant a manner he could manage. "You know, I don't think we've ever really spent any time together, cotton-puff. How about a spar in the near future?"

Ian was, for the most part, ignored at this point. Finn would get over it, eventually, but for right now, it was better to just not.

"Sorry, I figured you knew," Evan replied with a helpless shrug. "I knew and I wasn't even around when it happened. It's not all that big of an island, you didn't think it was weird when she just stopped showing up?" Then again, Chel. "You don't have to be choked up," he assured her. "Maybe you're just in shock, or something. Take some time, let it process, and tell me if there's anything I can do to help."