The night before our new song was supposed to drop, I disappeared, taking the final lyric sheet with me. Ron blew up my phone—nine hundred and ninety-nine missed calls. “We were supposed to get married after this song was released,” his last voicemail raged. “What the hell are you doing, Celine?” “Someone saw our lyrics posted on a European forum. Are you trying to dump me?” He didn’t know. He didn’t know that I’d accidentally killed a man while trying to save someone, and that I was in prison. He didn’t know that my eardrums had been punctured, that I was deaf. I used sign language to beg a guard to send a text for me. I’m tired of you dragging me down. I’m going solo. 1 The next time I saw Ron, he was the hotshot CEO of a record label. It was just after the holidays, and the temple was swarming with worshippers praying for a prosperous new year. A VIP had arrived to make a donation, and I quickly threw on my yellow volunteer vest to help out. I’d been out of prison for two months. No one would hire an ex-convict. The temple’s abbot had taken pity on me, offering me a volunteer position—room, board, and a small stipend of five hundred dollars a month. If I saved up, I could afford a better cochlear implant. I looked up and saw him. Ron. He hadn't changed. He looked exactly like the man I had loved so deeply, a perfect overlay of memory and reality. “This place is so smoky and gross. Let’s just donate the money and leave,” the girl beside him complained, waving a hand in front of her nose. “Didn’t you say you wanted your new album to be a hit?” Ron tapped her nose affectionately. “These are the rules of the business, a little superstition for good luck. Don’t blame bad timing later.” His voice was patient, gentle. His eyes were practically glued to her. “Fine,” she huffed. “Then let’s just get this over with.” She turned to me. “We need three incense sticks… Hey, are you listening to me? Are you deaf?” It wasn’t until her voice rose in irritation that I noticed the anger in her eyes. I quickly grabbed the incense sticks, lit them, and handed them over. Ron never even glanced in my direction. Was it because I looked so different now that he didn’t recognize me? Or was it because he wanted nothing to do with the woman who had betrayed him? “Ah!” A sharp scream, followed by a stinging slap across my face that sent me stumbling to the ground. “Are you trying to burn me?” the girl cried, clutching the back of her hand, her eyes red. I scrambled to pick up my old, battered cochlear implant and put it back on, bowing repeatedly in apology. “It hurts,” she whimpered, leaning into Ron’s arms. “I have a photoshoot tomorrow. What if it leaves a scar?” Ron’s face was etched with concern. He held her hand, gently blowing on the red mark. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll put my special scar cream on it when we get home. And if it really does scar, we’ll get a tattoo to cover it up. I’ll get one with you.” He rolled up his sleeve and patted his forearm. The spot where my name, "Celine," had once been tattooed was now a blank canvas. I remembered the time I’d cut my arm on a piece of glass. The doctor said the wound was deep and might scar. Ron, knowing how much I loved wearing sleeveless tops in the summer, had researched ancient remedies and concocted his own scar-healing paste. Even with him applying it every night, a faint scar remained. To make me feel better, he’d had my name tattooed on his arm, and I’d had his, "Ron," tattooed on mine. Now, the last trace of me was gone. The special treatment that had once been mine alone now belonged to someone else. I clutched the singed sleeve of my vest, trying to hide my own tattoo. The implant seemed to be malfunctioning again. I could see their lips moving, but the sound was muffled and distant. I kept tapping it, trying to get it to work. “I’m talking to you!” The girl shoved me hard. “You think a simple ‘sorry’ is enough? What kind of volunteer listens to music on their headphones during work?” Ron shot me a look—cold, unfamiliar. The abbot rushed over to intervene, but I stopped him. “I’m sorry,” I said, bowing deeply again. “If it will make you feel better, you can burn me back.” I held out my bare arm, the one without the tattoo, and stood tall. “Forget it,” Ron said, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “No need to waste time on insignificant people. It wouldn’t be good if the press saw this.” He whispered something in her ear, and she immediately blushed, her tears turning into a smile. “Okay, I’ll wait for you in the car.” Her glare at me had softened considerably. Ron pulled out his checkbook. “Abbot, you know that Starfire Entertainment is your most generous donor each year.” “I hope you’ll be more careful when selecting volunteers in the future. We can’t have people who don’t take their jobs seriously slacking off here, understand?” The abbot looked at me, conflicted, but finally nodded. I finally understood the look in Ron’s eyes. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even hate. It was a deep, unforgivable disgust. This was the same Ron who, if he tripped and fell, would just brush himself off and say he was fine. He hated me this much. And wasn’t that exactly what I had hoped for when I made my decision five years ago? Celine, you’re just a deaf ex-convict. What are you still hoping for? 2 The kind abbot let me stay in the dorm until a new volunteer arrived. I started packing my things. Two blocks from the dorm was the dark alley where my life had changed forever five years ago. It all started when I met Ron. We met in a bar, kindred spirits with guitars on our backs, chasing a dream in the big city. He played keyboard and composed; I played guitar and wrote lyrics. After countless rejections from record labels and failed music competitions, we spent a year polishing a song that we knew was a masterpiece. A producer friend told us it had massive potential. Ron promised me that no matter how the song did, we would get married the day it was released. That night, I was heading back to our studio with the final lyric sheet. As I passed the alley, I heard a faint cry for help. I recognized it immediately—it was the unique way Ron’s sister, Cora, who had autism, expressed distress. I grabbed an iron rod from a nearby construction site and rushed in. “Let her go! Or I’m calling the police!” Cora’s clothes were torn. She looked at me with pleading eyes. “Well, look what we have here,” one of the two burly men sneered. “One for each of us.” I was outnumbered. I could only shield Cora with my body. As they lunged at me, I swung the iron rod wildly. Suddenly, a scream. One of the men had slipped on the wet pavement. The iron rod pierced his chest. Blood gushed out. Seeing their friend dying, the other man fled. Cora, exhausted, collapsed. Her mother, alerted by a panic button on Cora’s phone, arrived before the police. She knelt before me. “Celine, I know you’re a good girl.” “Cora’s life is already so difficult with her autism. If her reputation is ruined by this, she’s finished.” “I’ll take her away. When the police come, please, don’t mention she was here.” Ron and Cora had lost their father when they were young, raised by their mother alone. She was right. Cora’s emotional state was too fragile for a trial. At the time, I didn't think much of it. I had acted in self-defense. The man had slipped. I never imagined the man I’d accidentally killed was the son of a powerful city tycoon. His family used their influence to send me to prison. On the first day, they paid other inmates to puncture my eardrums. When I woke up in the prison infirmary, a guard handed me my phone. 326 missed calls from Ron. A flood of messages. One was a voicemail from his mother. “Celine, I’m so sorry. I can’t let Cora testify. We can’t afford to cross that family. I hope you can forgive me.” “As for Ron, I told him a lie to protect him.” “If he knew the truth, with his personality, he’d blow this whole thing up. I hope you’ll be the one to break up with him.” “If you want compensation, I’ll sell everything I have to pay you back… I just want my children to live happy, peaceful lives.” I touched the bandages on my ears. The doctor said the damage was severe, my hearing reduced to just 5%. I would need to wear a cochlear implant for the rest of my life. The beautiful sounds of the world were lost to me forever. How could a person like me chase a music dream with Ron? So, I asked the guard to send that text. I became the betrayer, the villain in his story, and disappeared from his life. After that, I served my time quietly. I heard Ron left the city not long after. Five years later, he was back. He was the CEO of a record label. I was a pariah. I never expected to see him again at a production company. A company had finally expressed interest in my lyrics. I went for an interview with my portfolio. After a long wait in the reception area, the door opened. A familiar face. It was Evan, a friend who had chased the same dream with us back in the day. “Well, well, if it isn’t the famous plagiarist, Celine. Did you steal this new set of lyrics from some other poor sucker?” He smirked. “Ron, you’re just in time. Come give me your expert opinion.” 3 “Evan, who’s here?” A couple walked out of the recording studio, arm in arm. When Ron saw me, he froze. “Aren’t you the girl from the temple…?” The new girl, whose name I learned was Wendy, frowned. Evan smiled at me. “Let me introduce you. This is Wendy, Starfire Entertainment’s newest rising star, and also Ron’s current girlfriend.” “As for this one…” he said with a meaningful look, “this is Ron’s old partner, the notoriously shameless plagiarist, Celine.” Plagiarist. The word hit me like a sledgehammer. I looked up and saw the mocking smile on Ron’s face. “So it was you.” Wendy scoffed. “So you’re the reason Ron was in such a slump… If I’d known, I would have slapped you a few more times at the temple!” “The temple?” Evan sneered. “Have you had a change of heart, Celine? Thinking of becoming a nun to atone for your sins?” “No, I was just volunteering there…” Before I could finish, Wendy’s hand flew towards my face. Ron grabbed her wrist, a flicker of alarm in his eyes. “Don’t stop me! I’m going to teach her a lesson for you!” She was furious. As I bent down to pick up my dropped implant, she brought her foot down on it. “Still listening to music? Is it that song you stole?” Wendy lifted her foot and ground my last shred of dignity into the floor. The implant shattered into pieces under her heel. Ron watched with detached amusement, not saying a word to stop her. Then, he suddenly bent down and took Wendy’s foot in his hands. “Does it hurt?” he asked, brushing the plastic shards away with disgust. “Why get so worked up over someone like this? She’s not worth it.” Someone like this. Yes. I was a plagiarist, an ex-convict, and deaf. My implant was destroyed, but I didn’t need my ears to hear the overflowing affection in Ron’s voice. After five years of being deaf, I had learned to read lips. “It doesn’t hurt… It’s just a shame about the shoes. You had them custom-made for me overseas…” Wendy pouted. “It’s fine. I’ll just order you another pair.” Ron picked up the broken heel and tossed it into the trash can. He swept Wendy up into his arms and walked away without a backward glance. I stared at the trash can. I wondered how many cochlear implants that one pair of shoes could buy. Evan threw my portfolio at my feet. “A small studio like ours can’t afford to work with a big-shot plagiarist like you. Take your things and get out. And stop showing your face around Ron.” I bent down and gathered the scattered pieces of my pride. The implant was broken beyond repair, just like my place in Ron’s heart. He hated me that much. With a soft sigh and a bitter smile, I stepped into the elevator. A hand shot out and blocked the doors. Ron cornered me, his eyes sharp and cold. “Can’t take it already?” I turned my face away. “I thought you were so tough,” he sneered. “Taking our love song and running to your sugar daddy… Did he not take good care of you? Why are you out here looking for work?” “Yeah, he got tired of me and threw me out,” I said, lifting my chin and forcing a smile. “So I’m very broke right now. Are you satisfied with that answer, Mr. Hayes?” Ron’s lips thinned, his gaze darkening. “How about you give me some money? Consider it payment for the three years I spent chasing your dream with you… I’ll do whatever you want. Including my body…” I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my chest. He snatched it back as if he’d been burned. “Shameless!” His breathing was ragged. He turned his face away, his hand trembling. “I wouldn’t touch a body that dirty.” “Tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. The Barley Bar. We need a guitarist for the new song launch party. Five thousand for the night. Are you in?” “I’m in.” 4 I arrived at The Barley Bar at 7:30, half an hour early. The decor was exactly the same as the place where Ron and I had first met. From the neon sign outside to the banner hanging over the stage. Starfire Entertainment - Wendy’s New Song Launch Party. My implant was still broken, but I put the pieces in my ear anyway, hoping for the best. They handed me a guitar. Wendy sang all eight songs from her new album. In the audience, Ron watched her, his eyes filled with a soft, lingering affection. Finally, we reached the last page of the songbook. I was exhausted. I just wanted this nightmare to be over so I could get my five thousand dollars and buy a new implant. Every breath I took in this place reminded me of the time I had spent with Ron. Every night at 8 p.m., we would play here. When there was no audience, we were each other’s cheerleaders. The rest of the time, we were crammed into a tiny 150-square-foot room, listening to the couple next door fight, surviving on instant noodles. I sold that lyric sheet and bought a cochlear implant. The thought was a bitter pill. I’d been alone my whole life, an orphan with no one to rely on until I met Ron. Suddenly, a new sheet of music was placed in front of me. I recognized it instantly. It was our song. The one we never released. The copyright was still in Ron’s name. Before I could react, he was walking onto the stage. “To all the media and fans, tonight, I have a gift for Wendy.” “And I’ve brought my family here to witness it.” I followed his gaze to the left side of the stage. My eyes met Cora’s. She smiled and waved at me, but her mother quickly pulled her hand down. “Musicians, if you please.” Ron turned his back to the audience and nodded at me. “I want to dedicate this song to the love of my life.” He raised the microphone. I had played this song a million times. My fingers found the chords on the guitar, moving with a practiced ease that didn’t require hearing. Even without the lyrics, I could feel the dense, sweet affection flowing between them. The song ended. The applause was thunderous. I stood up, my hands shaking uncontrollably. “Family, let’s give them our best wishes!” Evan shouted, leading the cheer. “I’ll produce all the music for your wedding and your first kid’s birthday party, how’s that for a deal?” Ron’s mother slipped a jade bracelet from her wrist onto Wendy’s. Cora looked at me, then took a barrette from her hair and gave it to them. Everyone gave their most precious possessions to Ron and Wendy as blessings. Finally, it was just me. Ron and Wendy stood there, their fingers intertwined, smiling at me. I took the broken implant out of my ear and placed it in his palm. After five years in prison, I had nothing left to give. The person I had cherished most, I had pushed away myself. My ears were deaf, my dreams were shattered. And Ron was finally going to be someone else’s husband. I looked up and managed a smile. The tightly wound string in my mind snapped. The roaring in my head finally ceased. I couldn’t hear anything at all anymore. “Congratulations,” I mouthed, my eyes downcast. “If you still need a guitarist for the wedding, I can do it for free.” I saw a flash of surprise in Ron’s eyes. I bowed deeply. “Thank you for the performance fee, sir.” I turned and walked away, my head held high under the scrutiny of the crowd. My phone buzzed with a transfer notification. In my peripheral vision, I saw Cora pull away from her mother and rush onto the stage, whispering something in Ron’s ear. I hailed a cab. Suddenly, I heard a man’s roar from inside the bar. “This isn’t a goddamn hearing aid?” “Cora, say that again? Who did you say had their ears punctured in prison?”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393671", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel