Part 14
Fame has a sound.
It isn't music — it's the endless hum of cameras, the clicking of shutters, the cheers that never stop long enough to let you breathe.
Ethan used to live for that sound.
Now it grated on him.
Everywhere he went, people whispered comparisons.
"Ethan's good… but Adrian—he's different."
"Ethan's trying too hard."
"He's just in Adrian's shadow."
He smiled for the cameras anyway, but his smiles were getting thinner, his words sharper.
Adrian, on the other hand, seemed untouchable again.
His tour had sold out in record time, his reputation restored.
When asked about the "incident," he simply said,
"I'm grateful to still be here. That's enough."
No drama. No bitterness. Just calm.
It infuriated Ethan.
The more peaceful Adrian appeared, the louder Ethan's chaos became.
It started subtly.
A few too many drinks before interviews.
A few careless words that headlines twisted into scandal.
But then came the night that changed everything.
It was a televised awards gala — one of the biggest of the year.
Ethan and Adrian were seated at the same table, front and center.
The cameras loved the tension between them.
When Adrian's name was announced as Artist of the Year, the applause shook the room.
He stood, composed, smiled faintly at Ethan, and walked to the stage.
Ethan clapped slowly, but his eyes burned.
He didn't realize the cameras were still on him.
Later, when a reporter asked how he felt about Adrian's win, Ethan laughed too hard and said,
"Maybe perfection's easier when you don't care who you step on."
The audience gasped.
The clip went viral before the night was over.
By morning, "Ethan meltdown" was trending in every country.
His sponsors went silent.
His PR team begged him to apologize.
He didn't.
He just stared at the headlines, chest tight with disbelief.
How had it all turned so fast?
He'd tried to break Adrian — but somehow, he was the one falling apart.
Adrian saw the footage the next day.
He didn't feel triumph.
Just pity.
Ethan had always wanted the world to see him.
Now it did — just not the way he'd hoped.
That night, Adrian looked out his window again, the city glowing far below.
He should've felt safe, but something still lingered — a quiet unease, the sense that the story wasn't finished yet.
He whispered to himself,
"Peace never lasts long, does it?"
Outside, lightning flickered far on the horizon.
A storm was coming.
But it wasn't Ethan anymore that frightened him —
it was the silence that waited behind it.