Chapter 3

Bianca scoffed. "Stealing someone else's work is what you call hard work? We spend all our time together, Chase. I never saw you working on it."

"Julian, on the other hand—he brought his laptop to write music even during casual hangouts. People teased him for trying too hard, but he just rubbed his neck and said he had to hustle twice as hard because he started from nothing. You'll never hold a candle to someone with that kind of drive."

She took another step closer. "Chase, I know you have an ego, but plagiarism is shameful. Julian already agreed to drop it for my sake. All you have to do is give him a sincere apology."

I had spent every waking moment with her, never bringing up work because I wanted to be fully present.

I only worked late into the night after she fell asleep.

I wanted to surprise her.

I had spent an entire year preparing that surprise.

Yet the moment Julian entered the picture, she became a different person.

She brought up his name constantly.

She even used her official social media account to openly vote for Julian in competitions.

I couldn't fathom how things had derailed so fast.

Had I not treated her well enough?

When she craved a specific pastry, I baked it from scratch and drove eight hours to deliver it to her backstage.

Only to find her laughing and flirting with Julian.

On my birthday, fans tagged her under my posts, waiting for her greeting.

Instead, she attended Julian’s debut piano recital.

I kept lying to myself, making excuses that Bianca simply admired his talent.

Now I finally saw the truth: no matter how hard I tried, I would never measure up to Julian in her eyes.

Suddenly, Julian let out a weak cough. Bianca whipped around instantly, completely forgetting she was in stilettos.

I reached out to catch her as she tripped, but she shoved my hand away without even looking at me, rushing to Julian’s side to shower him with concern.

Julian stood up and walked over, putting on a show of playing peacemaker. "Chase, don't hold this against Bianca. You know how sacred pure music is to her. Let's just leave it at this. Please don't blame her—she's only doing what she thinks is right."

Tears welled in Bianca’s eyes as she looked at Julian.

"You're the only one who truly gets me. You respect the craft. You're the one who deserves the Composer of the Year award."

I swayed on my feet, swallowing the bitter taste rising in my throat.

Bianca... you knew how much music meant to me. You knew how hard I worked. Yet for Julian, you wiped out everything I had ever done.

"Did you ever love me?" I asked, my voice hollow.

As she brushed past me, Bianca murmured under her breath, "If you hadn't gotten in the way, Julian and I would have been together a long time ago."

"What did you just say?"

Before she could answer, the stage lights shifted. The ceremony was starting.

I sat in the center of the row directly behind the executive guests.

Even though I was far from the general audience, the furious chants of Julian’s fans still echoed clearly in my ears.

"Get the fraud out of the industry!"

"We demand real talent!"

"Keep trust-fund babies out of real music!"

My knuckles turned white around the presentation folder in my hands.

On stage, the presenter glanced awkwardly at the organizers, unsure whether to proceed.

Receiving a nod from the director, the host finally cleared his throat. "And the award for Composer of the Year goes to... Chase Vance!"

The hall went dead quiet. Every fan glowstick in the arena shut off in unison.

I stood up and looked out at the sea of black, turning to Bianca in search of some comfort.

All I saw was her holding Julian’s hand tightly, glaring up at me with pure fury.

Surrounded by jeers and booing, I walked toward the stage with heavy steps.

My original plan had been simple: after accepting the award, the screen would play a music video starring Bianca, and I would propose to her at the piano while singing *Loving Bianca*. None of that mattered now.

The stage coordinator, following the original run-sheet, handed Bianca a microphone.

Bianca’s outraged face filled the massive stadium screen. "I object to Chase Vance receiving the Composer of the Year award."

Thunderous applause broke out in the venue. "Hell yeah!"

She faced the audience with absolute righteousness. "Music should be pure. It shouldn't be tainted by privilege or corporate interests."

Turning toward me, her gaze was filled with theatrical disappointment. "Chase, you plagiarized Julian’s work. Instead of apologizing, you shamelessly took credit for his blood, sweat, and tears. I'm utterly disgusted with you."

I tightened my grip on the folder and the trophy, choking back the suffocating grief in my chest. Staring at the woman who had turned against me for another man, I spoke into the mic, my voice cold. "And what exactly do you want, Miss White?"

Bianca blinked, visibly caught off guard by my formal address. Julian squeezed her hand, giving her a reassuring nod.

She pulled Julian up beside her, her eyes brimming with tender emotion. "I watched Julian craft this melody note by note. Artists who create from the heart deserve a fair shot, regardless of their background."

She turned back to glare at me, her tone venomous. "And a thief like you belongs out of the music industry—permanently banned!"