Music Lines Novels & Stories

Before I could properly sit, someone grabbed a microphone. “Hey, everyone!” A few people cheered, others barely turned, but the person continued anyway. “Welcome to the pre-exam party! There’s enough to drink, music’s already on—so do whatever you want. Dance, chill…” He raised his bottle. “Just don’t get caught.” Laughter rippled through the room. “First things first—let the party begin!” Cheers erupted, louder this time, and just like that, everything dissolved into noise again. Drinks started going around. Someone shoved a bottle toward our table, and I watched as hands reached for it without hesitation.

"Annie's dead." Jessica kept talking. "Yeah, I heard she died of some stomach cancer the same day I had my surgery. Cancer definitely has something to do with genes. Her mom died of it, now she's dead too. How sad. But it works out for us, right? At least she's not in the way anymore…" I raised my hand, wanting to slap her just like before, but my transparent fingers passed right through her face. The next moment, there was a crisp slap. It was Zach.

I pulled out my phone, opened a blank message box to his number, and typed out the exact words currently glowing on my laptop screen. "You want noise, Eliot, use your words. " Then I hit send.

At six forty-five in the morning, the headquarters of Linéa Cosmetics stood like a polished monument against the Tokyo skyline,forty-two floors of glass and pale stone reflecting a city that never truly slept. Jerome Lin preferred it this way. Before the assistants arrived. Before the board members rehearsed their compliments. Before the building filled with perfume and ambition. The lobby doors parted at his approach. “Good morning, Mr. Lin,” the security director said immediately, bowing just enough to be respectful without appearing outdated.

As if it will help the d******d. Silently another tick appears on the d******d bar. It's better. He walks again. Slowly, closer, closer to 100% A strange moan came from my throat. "Come on!" Complain The d******d window disappears. Exhale. Sign off. Now! No. The mouse starts to move across the screen by itself. A program opens. I watch with bated breath. It feels like my heart has caught a sped wobble... Doc is in front of his computer!

There were only three lines in the script. [Script:] I remember. I remember. I remember. There was no title. No instructions. Just a single line, repeated three times. As the handsome senior stood stunned, the host suddenly announced, “There will be a twist this time. The preparation time will be shortened to two minutes, and the lines must be followed strictly. No improvisation. No additional lines. Time starts now!” The handsome senior was surprised by the sudden twist, but he couldn’t remain stunned for long. He had to decide what emotions and story he could convey using only those three lines.

𝙸 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙿𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼. "𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃?" 𝙸 𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝙴𝙴 𝙰 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙲𝚄𝙻𝙰𝚁 𝙵𝙸�

“If she comes for you tonight, let her. I’ll handle the fallout.” Her lips twitched. “Planning to play the knight, Mr. Cross?” He met her gaze, tone flat. “Planning to play partner.” Something in her chest tightened, not unpleasantly, just unexpected. “Then we’re on the same page,” she said, taking a champagne flute from a passing tray. For a while, they circulated the crowd like clockwork; flawless, coordinated, magnetic. The media loved the contrast: his precision against her quiet fire. When the speeches began, Clarisse made her move.

𝓤𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓝𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻: 𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓘’𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰… Then it shows typing and another line of message appears.

she said softly. Her voice felt like an anchor. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “Ava?” she asked gently. I swallowed. “I did it,” I said. Silence. Not the awkward kind. The listening kind. “And?” she asked quietly. I looked at the stick in my hand again. “Two lines,” I whispered. Her breath caught on the other end. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she said, “Are you okay?” The question was simple.