“Windchime Group–that legendary international agency every performer kills to work with–is holding their first–ever singing competition.” Grace tapped the trending hashtag. “Twitter’s about to crash from the traffic.”
Olivia stared a moment longer before handing the phone back, the spark in her eyes dying as quickly as it appeared.
Grace didn’t need it spelled out. “You’re worried that old scandal will get you banned from competing?”
After countless rejections from local competitions, Olivia had resigned herself to bar gigs. Some mistakes, it seemed, clung like ink stains.
Olivia stared at her hands. “You know that feeling when you get your hopes up, only to have them crushed?” Her voice trembled. “It hurts too much. What if… what if it happens again?”
“Not this time,” Grace said with conviction. She reached for Olivia’s hands, her eyes shining with determination. “I’d bet my entire love life on it. One last try, okay?
“Our worst enemy isn’t the world out there. It’s that voice in your head telling you ‘you can’t.‘ Don’t you want to share your music? To have people really understand your songs?”
Olivia felt her resistance crumbling. After a long pause, she whispered, “Just… give me a little time to think.”
At precisely ten PM, Olivia stepped onto the small stage at Halfway Bar.
This upscale bar was popular with Pisloe’s wealthy crowd, their expensive watches sparkling in the low light.
Olivia, famously known as Neil’s girlfriend and blessed with an amazing voice, always turned heads in the bar.
Olivia’s fingers danced across the piano keys, her honeyed voice weaving through the smoky bar air.
The melody wrapped around the room like a warm embrace, piano notes and vocals blending seamlessly.
As the final chord faded, scattered applause broke out before the usual murmur of conversations and clinking glasses resumed.
“Thought she’d be a wreck after breaking up with Neil,” someone whispered behind her drink. “Looks perfectly fine to me.”
Her companion snorted. “Since when do women need to fall apart over men? The world doesn’t revolve around them.”
A neon sign buzzed to life near the bar as the sound system pinged. “VIP Room 306 just dropped thirty thousand!”
It wasn’t the biggest tip she’d ever gotten, but it was solid for a bar gig.
Halfway Bar had one ironclad rule: if someone dropped over three grand, the singer had to go toast them personally.
The bar owner walked over and pressed a cocktail into Olivia’s hand. “Room 306,” he said, nudging her toward the hallway. “Don’t keep them waiting.”
Olivia knew what to do. She grabbed the glass and replied, “On it.”
The hallway felt familiar under her feet as she made her way to VIP Room 306.
A quick knock, a muffled “Come in,” and she pushed the door open.
“I” The words died in her throat as she saw the figure sitting in the corner.
Neil wore a white shirt with the collar undone, looking just as naturally attractive as she remembered.
1/3
45%
Chapter 24
White had always suited him, ever since that first day they’d met. Whether it was the crisp fabric or just the way he wore it, the sight had seared itself into her memory long ago.
Tendrils of cigarette smoke curled upward from between his fingers, obscuring his face.
“Well, look who it is!” a voice cut through the quiet.
“Olivia, it’s been ages! We’re throwing our friend a welcome–back bash,” another chimed in.
Someone else teased, “Neil’s right over there. You two haven’t caught up in weeks, right? Don’t be shy.”
“That drink you’re holding…” another added with a grin. “Perfect for making a toast to Neil.”
The room burst into cheers and whistles, glasses clinking together in a loud, happy mess.
Olivia saw right through them. The whole room was holding its breath, waiting for her to stumble–to prove she wasn’t really over Neil. They wanted a show, some sign she still cared.
She drew a steadying breath and raised her glass, but the door burst open before she could speak.
“Sorry, I’m late.” A vision in red swept past Olivia, making a beeline for Neil.
Olivia’s fingers tightened around her glass. She’d recognize that girl anywhere–the same one from the apartment yesterday.
A murmur ran through the crowd as someone called out, “Jessica, you’re finally here.”
“Well, this just got interesting,” another voice purred.
Every eye in the room darted to Olivia, anticipation thick in the air. They were waiting for a catfight–Olivia versus Neil’s shiny new girlfriend.
Jessica had already draped herself over Neil, her arms looping around his neck with practiced ease.
Olivia averted her gaze, surprised by how raw the pain still felt. A dull throb spread through her chest, intensifying wire
The entire room had gone quiet, all eyes fixed on her, waiting for her reaction.
Neil’s friends had seen how devoted she was to him–they were practically drooling for some drama.
every heartbeat.
But Olivia wouldn’t give them the show they wanted. She stayed completely still, face blank, watching the couple like they
movie.
Neil had been pulling away from Jessica just moments before, but Olivia’s icy composure ignited something in him.
were
extras in some boring
He yanked Jessica closer, tilting her chin up with exaggerated affection. “Late?” he purred, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “Then I’ll have to make sure you’re properly disciplined tonight.”
Jessica giggled. “Neil, you’re so bad.”
Their flirty exchange sent a charge through the room. Someone started clapping, and soon the whole group took up the chant. “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” they shouted.
The ache in Olivia’s chest tightened. Sh
- go.
turned away just enough to steady her breath, swallowing back everything she couldn’t say as she prepared to
With one last bitter smile, she raised her glass. “To Mr. Hartley’s flawless career… and his flawless new love story.”
