His Betrayal, My Beautiful Rebirth

, Kellen had barely acknowledged the ruined dress or the faint burn mark on my chest. He was too busy soo

stant companion since Kellen "accidentally" elbowed me during an argument about my increasingly frequent recording sessions.

out of Kellen' s shadow and reclaim my voice. I was wearing a new dress, a shimmering silve

es, usually so sharp with malice, seemed unusually vacant. She held

focused. "So, you think you can just sing yo

n my stomach. "Cherre

loves me, you know. Only me. You're just...

narrow ledge overlooking a maze of cables and lighting rigs. My hear

ck," I urged, my vo

eyond my shoulder. A manic glint flashed in h

ight colliding with mine. The champagne glass shattered against the wall. I lost my footing, t

n my stomach. My head hit something hard

ling was white, stark, unforgiving. My left wrist was encased

rse exclaimed, her

wn. He looked genuinely distraught. For a moment, a sliver of

oice thick with emotion. "Are

tears streaming down her face. "Kellen! Thank God you're

ing about?" I rasp

ir, her sobs echoing dramatically through the sterile room

concern, now darted to Cherrelle. The familiar conflict w

a careful warning. "Cherrelle's very dis

rd tasted like ash. "She pushed me, K

iar! You're trying to frame me! Kelle

ticking in his jaw. The silence

voice low, measured. "It looked like...

as doing it again. He w

ead! My music career is on the line

ere already distant, planning. "I'll make sure you get the best doctor

ut, was another of K

. Kellen hovered, attentive, almost solicitous. He brought me flowers, rea

a slippery thing

f the backstage area was "corrupted." My medical records, initially detailing a concussion and a fract

. "No need to cause a fuss. Think of the headlines. 'Political Aide's

on hitting me like a physical blow. "You bribed

us, Hayden. My career, our futur

Always t

audible. "You said y

emed to be reading from a script. "But not li

n and voiceless. I saw it all then, with chilling clarity. He hadn't just cover

ical event. My wrist was still in a brace, but I'd insisted

s by Kellen's side, basking in the spotlight.

s face grim. "Ms. Black, we've receive

ed with years of my deepest thoughts, my struggles, my pain. And my carefully documented e

ur... toxic relationship," the reporter continued, his voice echoing in the sudden hush

eling. "No! That's... that's my

manufactured shock. "Oh my God, Hayden! How could you? After e

of righteous indignation. "This is disgusting! She's making it all

yes, usually so controlled, blazed with an icy fury

cold, devoid of any warmth I'

ous fabrication. My sister, Cherrelle, has been struggling with severe mental health issues for years, stemmi

nto Kellen's arms. "I... I can't live like this, Kellen! The lies... the pressure... I jus

e of brotherly devotion, tragic heroism. "My sister is suicidal," he announced, his voice th

reputation shattered, my voice stolen, my heart a hollow, echoing chamber. He had chosen. He had always chosen. And I? I was nothing. I felt the last vestiges