Chapter 4

Three days before the gala, I sought Lena out in the studio. "I want to revoke the authorization statement."

Her hand froze halfway toward a document. "Julian."

I stood before her. "You can't keep giving Liam credit for Lost in the Fog."

She looked up at me, her expression calm, as though this were nothing more than a minor deviation from her plans.

"Don't start. That statement was supposed to save the tour." Lena set down her pen. "You signed it yourself."

My breath caught.

"If you bring this up now, no one will be able to clean up the mess." Her voice remained perfectly even.

Everyone involved would suffer. That was what her tone implied. I'd become an accomplice, and somehow, telling the truth would make me the one responsible for hurting everyone else.

Lena rose and walked past me.

"Julian, if you leave, you won't have much of a track record to fall back on in this industry." She picked up her coat. "I don't want things to turn ugly between us."

She spoke as casually as if she were discussing the weather.

I watched her walk out the door. So she'd known all along. She knew that statement had trapped me. She knew I wouldn't get far if I left.

…

On the day of the gala, Liam emerged backstage in a custom-made performance suit and stopped in front of the sound console.

"Julian, you'll keep an eye on my in-ear monitors tonight, right?" He tilted his head to show off the earpiece engraved with his name. "I feel at ease when you're around."

I glanced at the worn patch of skin beside his ear. "Sure."

…

Fifteen minutes before the show, Lena approached the console. She glanced at the monitoring screen and reached out to adjust a setting.

I looked up.

"Raise your backing vocals another two decibels during the second chorus," she instructed.

"Can't he handle it himself?" I asked.

Her fingers paused. "We can't afford any mistakes onstage."

I stared at her hand. "So you're using my voice to cover for him."

Lena fell silent. As she withdrew her hand from the slider, her fingers brushed mine.

She hesitated, and the back of her hand tensed. A moment later, she turned and walked away.

The stage lights dimmed.

Lena stood at center stage, her voice echoing through my monitoring system. "The next song is one I've never performed publicly before."

The audience erupted into screams.

"I wrote it for one person, but tonight, I'm singing it for everyone."

The spotlight came on. Liam emerged from the wings and took his place beside her.

The instant the first note rang out, my fingertips went cold. It was the melody I'd composed three years ago, back when I sat in my rented apartment with my guitar in my arms.

That night, Lena had sat on the floor and listened in silence for a long time.

"Julian, this is the best thing you've ever given me," she had claimed.

And now, she was sharing that precious gift with Liam before tens of thousands of people.

The chorus began.

Sure enough, Liam's sustained note wavered.

My backing vocal track automatically rose in the mix. Through the speakers, my voice intertwined with Lena's.

Comments flooded the screen.

[Liam's backing vocals are incredible!]

[They're made for each other!]

[This has to be Lena and Liam's love song!]

I sat behind the sound console, my eyes dry.

…

When the song ended, Lena took Liam's hand and led him to the front of the stage. Then she pulled a small box from her pocket.

The audience screamed so loudly that the noise nearly blew out my headphones.

"This song was where our love story began," she said. "Liam, thank you for staying with me from the very first note until today."

She opened the box to reveal a pair of musical note cufflinks. A single word was engraved on them: Fog. The same word from the title of my song, Lost in the Fog.

Liam's eyes reddened, and he turned his face away.

Lena fastened the cufflinks for him as thunderous applause swept through the venue.

I filtered out the unnecessary noise from the monitoring feed, but the cheers still rang in my ears.

…

After the gala ended, backstage grew lively again.

I switched off the sliders one by one.

At some point, Lena appeared beside me. "Julian."

I didn't look up.

She placed a small box on the sound console. "This is for you."

I opened it. Inside lay another pair of matching musical note cufflinks, but their surfaces were blank, without a single character engraved on them.

Lena lowered her voice. "I haven't decided what to engrave on yours yet. I'll have it done later."

I stared at the blank musical notes.

Liam's cufflinks bore the name of my song, a gift she'd presented to him before tens of thousands of witnesses. Yet when it came to mine, she couldn't even spare a single word without postponing it until some unspecified day.

I pushed the box back toward her. "Keep them."

Lena's fingers stiffened.

I removed my headphones and placed them on the sound console. Then I unclipped my staff badge and set it beside them. "Lena, today is my last day."

Her expression shifted slightly. "Julian, think this through."

I took a step back. "You've told me three times that I'm safer behind the scenes."

Backstage was deafening, but my voice remained quiet.

"I'm done staying behind the scenes." I turned and headed for the exit.

Lena rushed forward and seized my arm, her grip painfully tight. "Where are you going?"

She pulled so hard that I stumbled, and the back of my hand struck the metal edge of the sound console.

Pain shot through my hand. A thin line of blood immediately appeared.

The in-ear monitor case slipped out of my bag and hit the floor. Its lid sprang open. It was empty.

Lena froze. Her grip loosened, and her hand fell away from my arm, her fingertips trembling.

I bent down and picked up my bag.

I didn't look at her. Behind me, the melody of "Lost in the Fog" continued to play on a loop.

The backstage door closed behind me.