Chapter 2

2 Grandfather had used his own lifelong connections to secure Kendra her position as lead producer at the Grand Arts Center.

He had cherished her like his own granddaughter, even preparing our family's prized antique jewelry set as an engagement gift for her.

In the end, all we did was raise a venomous viper.

I wandered aimlessly down the wet streets when the massive billboard across the plaza caught my eye.

The screen was broadcasting Colton's post-show interview on repeat.

He stood dressed in a sparkling black stage outfit, with the very stage I had dreamed of standing on glowing behind him.

When asked about the canceled classical act he had replaced, he gave a smug, dismissive smirk.

"What was it called again? 'Tempest' something? Come on, what century are we living in? That obsolete junk had no business being on a national stage."

"I want to give special thanks to our brilliant producer, Kendra. If she hadn't cleared out the dead weight in time, our crew wouldn't have taken home the trophy tonight."

I could not bear to listen to another word.

My umbrella slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the wet asphalt.

So that was her so-called valid reason.

I let out a soft breath, and in that single moment, every lingering attachment withered away.

A heart this cold was never worth keeping.

When the rain began to taper off, I hailed a cab straight to the Grand Arts Center.

The masterwork instrument Grandfather left behind was still stored backstage, and I needed to retrieve it.

That acoustic instrument was the only surviving masterwork crafted entirely by hand by my great-grandfather, carrying immense cultural value.

It had already been scheduled for permanent acquisition by the National Museum after the gala.

I worried that careless stagehands might bump into it and damage the fragile woodwork.

Yet when I pushed open the backstage lounge doors, Kendra and Colton were in the middle of a rowdy celebration.

They were grinding against each other to the thumping bass, their bodies tangled in an intimate embrace.

"Caleb could never measure up to you, Colton! He spends all day clutching his dusty pieces of scrap wood. And he actually thought he belonged on your stage? What a joke!"

Her mocking words triggered a wave of laughter from the boyband members.

I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white.

The image of Grandfather on his deathbed and my mother's tear-streaked face flashed before my eyes.

I stormed across the room, but the sight before me made my blood run cold.

My ancestral instrument was buried under messy takeout containers and stage props, with a knocked-over can of soda resting beside it.

Dark, sticky liquid was slowly dripping across the antique soundboard.

Panic seized me, and I shoved Colton backward with all my might. "Get the hell away from it!"

Handcrafted century-old wood was notoriously delicate, and acidic soda would permanently dissolve the rare lacquer.

I dropped to my knees, throwing the trash aside and desperately using my coat sleeves to wipe the soda from the strings and board.

Before I could inspect the cracks, Kendra shoved me violently from behind.