The stage lights of *Britain’s Got Talent* burned brighter than ever that night. The cameras panned across an audience ripe with anticipation, faces glowing in the electric buzz of live television.
> “Please welcome… **Aaron Marshall!**”
A lanky figure in black jeans and a vintage band tee strode onto the stage. His long hair framed pale eyes that flicked nervously toward the judges.
Simon Cowell leaned forward. Amanda Holden smiled warmly. “Hello, Aaron,” she said. “What are you performing for us tonight?”
Aaron’s voice came out calm, almost too calm. “A song everyone knows. A little something from *Frozen.*”
Amanda’s grin widened instantly. “*Let It Go!* Oh, I love that song!”
“Yes,” Aaron said softly. “But I’ll be doing… my own version.”
—
### The First Note
The familiar piano intro began, pure and glittering, echoing through the theatre.
Amanda closed her eyes, visibly pleased. The audience swayed gently, ready for the Disney nostalgia.
Then Aaron opened his mouth.
The sound that emerged wasn’t a note—it was a roar. A guttural, tearing growl that rolled through the theatre like a thunderclap.
“LET IT GOOOOOO!”
