Chapter 3

At the gala planning meeting, I was assigned a seat in the farthest corner of the room.

Danson projected the setlist onto the screen.

[Lost in the Fog. Written by Liam Parker. Performed by Lena Mitchell and Liam Parker.]

My knuckles pressed against the edge of my chair.

Danson began. "The brand wants to present this as a testament to Lena and Liam's three-year love story."

Vincent Foster nodded. "The story behind their signature love song makes for a compelling narrative."

Liam chuckled softly. "I'm not sure I can pull off my part."

Lena glanced at him. "We have Julian."

Everyone turned toward me.

Danson fixed his gaze on me. "Julian, you'll be responsible for the entire backing vocal arrangement."

My throat tightened. "This song…"

The conference room fell silent for a brief moment.

Lena looked up. "What about it?"

I stared at the songwriting credits on the screen. "Nothing."

…

After the meeting, I stopped Lena in the hallway. "Can't we use a different song instead of Lost in the Fog?"

She stopped in her tracks. "Why?"

"You said you'd save that song for us," I replied.

Lena looked at me, her expression unchanged. "It's just a song."

Her unwavering gaze seemed to weigh on my shoulders.

"Who I sing with onstage doesn't mean anything," she claimed.

"Then what does?" I asked.

She didn't answer. After two seconds, she looked away. "The contract's already signed. You're working behind the scenes, and no one's giving you a hard time."

This was the third time it had happened. She had shut me out again without raising her voice, yet the pain cut straight to the bone.

…

That evening, Liam shared a photo on his social media account for the entire team to see.

It was a selfie of him with a pair of black in-ear monitors. I recognized them instantly.

The name Julian Payne had once been engraved on the right earpiece. Now, only Liam remained.

The caption read: [Lena told me these were the original in-ear monitors from the early days. She had my name engraved on them and gave them to me. After three years, I finally have my own name in her music.]

I zoomed in on the photo. Faint abrasion marks were visible beneath the engraving. My name had been ground away.

When my phone screen went dark, my reflection stared back at me, pale and almost sickly green.

…

The next day, Liam had a one-on-one interview.

The topic was "From Behind the Scenes to the Spotlight: Liam Parker's Creative Journey."

I handed him the interview materials.

He flipped through two pages before suddenly looking up. "Julian, thank goodness you helped us back then."

My hand froze.

"Otherwise, Lena and I would've been finished." His tone remained calm.

I looked at him. There were no tears in his eyes. He merely gave me a solemn nod. "You're the person I trust most."

He glanced back at the materials.

"Page three of the interview brief has the timeline for the songwriting process." He smiled and patted my shoulder. "I'll definitely do Lost in the Fog justice this time."

Then he lowered his voice. "I won't let your work go to waste."

The word "waste" rolled off his tongue so casually.

I turned away slightly. "Recording starts in 10 minutes."

…

On the day of the rehearsal, I sat behind the monitoring console. With my old in-ear monitors in place, Liam sang the chorus of Lost in the Fog. Halfway through a sustained note, his breath faltered.

Vincent frowned.

Lena's voice came through the intercom. "Give the third line more breath support."

Liam sighed softly into the microphone. "I've tried, but this key is just too difficult for me."

Lena paused for a moment. "Do it the way you did before. A little lower, a little steadier."

She didn't explicitly say, "Sing like Julian," but I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to imitate my singing style.

I closed my eyes. Everything from my song and my voice to my in-ear monitors and even my public statement had found its way onto that stage, yet Liam received all the credit.

…

After rehearsal, I passed the dressing room.

The door was ajar, and Liam was on the phone.

"Yeah, after the gala, this song goes straight onto my list of works." He chuckled. "The authorization's already signed. He signed it himself last year."

He paused briefly. "It's all there in black and white. No one can dispute it. Julian won't say anything."

The person on the other end said something.

Liam's voice remained perfectly even. "Why blame him? I owe him one. I'll make it up to him eventually."

I stood outside the door, the strap of my equipment bag digging into my palm.

Someone inside called out, "Liam, come get your makeup touched up."

I turned and walked away.

…

Late that night, I returned to my workstation.

The recording studio was completely empty.

I opened the encrypted folder. Inside were all the original recordings. The timestamp on the original demo of Lost in the Fog predated every single one of Liam's works.

I opened my email and deleted the words [I'll think about it] from my previous reply. Then I typed a new message: [Could you tell me how long the recording period would last? I need to confirm my departure date.]

I clicked Send.

A confirmation appeared on the screen.

I pulled open the drawer and took out the empty in-ear monitor case. It felt light in my hand.

I slipped it into my bag.

The light above my workstation flickered once.

Inside the drawer, an empty, dark square remained.