Part 13
Days turned into weeks, and the world moved on.
The stage incident became just another viral moment — replayed, remixed, forgotten.
But inside the industry, whispers lingered.
Some said it hadn't been an accident.
Some said Adrian's team was hiding something.
And some, quietly, said Ethan had been too close to the stage that night.
No one said it to his face.
They didn't have to.
He could feel it every time a conversation stopped when he walked into a room.
Adrian didn't rest either.
He'd asked his security team to investigate quietly, without media noise.
They found traces of tampering — wires that had been stripped, a timer off by seconds.
Enough to prove intent, but not enough to prove who.
Still, Adrian had his suspicions.
He'd seen the reflection, the same way you see lightning before thunder.
One evening, he walked into a rehearsal studio and found Ethan alone at the piano, his back turned.
The notes were soft, almost mournful.
For a moment, Adrian hesitated. Then he said quietly,
"Good performance that night."
Ethan froze. "Yeah," he said after a pause. "Good show for everyone."
Adrian stepped closer. "You were standing pretty close to the wings."
Ethan looked up slowly, a smile flickering that didn't reach his eyes.
"You think I tried to hurt you?"
Adrian didn't answer.
He just watched him — calm, unreadable, too silent.
Ethan's fingers tightened on the piano keys.
Then, with a forced laugh, he said,
"If I wanted to beat you, Adrian, I'd do it on stage. Not with wires."
"Then do it," Adrian replied softly. "Try beating me without lies."
For a second, neither of them moved.
The air between them buzzed like electricity.
Then Adrian turned and left, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Ethan sat there, staring at the door long after it closed.
He pressed his hands against his face.
The trembling wouldn't stop.
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Ethan's POV
That night, he drank alone.
His phone lit up with comments, interviews, praise — noise that used to thrill him.
Now it made him sick.
In the glass of the studio window, he saw his reflection — pale, hollow, eyes red from sleepless nights.
He whispered to it,
"Why can't he just lose?"
His reflection didn't answer.
But for a moment, it looked like it almost smiled.
He turned away quickly.
Too quickly.
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Meanwhile, Adrian stood on his balcony overlooking the city, his hair tousled by the wind.
Somewhere deep down, he knew Ethan wouldn't stop.
But this time, he wasn't going to hide.
Because Adrian had survived the lies, the hate, and the fire —
and if Ethan wanted a real fight,
he would meet him in the light.