The day I announced my retirement from Hollywood, paparazzi caught Arthur Sterling entering and leaving a luxury hotel with his "One That Got Away"—the legendary muse, Seraphina Rose. The internet was ruthless. "No matter how beautiful the trophy bird is," one viral comment read, "she’ll always have to fly away when the original muse returns." Later, as I was leaving New York, Arthur attended the premiere of Seraphina’s comeback film. A reporter asked him, "Word is Melody St. Claire dropped out of her latest role to enter an arranged marriage back home. Is it true?" Arthur let out a sharp, mocking scoff, his face full of arrogant certainty. "She wouldn't dare." At twenty, Melody St. Claire wouldn't have dared. But Melody is twenty-seven now. In this short life, I’ve decided to run toward someone who loves me, rather than the man I used to chase. 1 "Give the lead role in this movie to Seraphina." "I’m not going to ask you a second time. Are we clear?" Arthur’s voice was cold, like a New York winter. He was clearly agitated; his silver fork clattered against the fine china, a harsh, grating sound in the private dining room. My throat felt tight. I forced myself to swallow the tears. My phone was buzzing incessantly on the table. I stood up to take the call outside, and as I opened the door, I ran straight into Seraphina. She smiled at me, radiant and ethereal. "I heard it’s your birthday, Melody. Arthur invited me to celebrate with you." Around her neck hung a sapphire pendant—the one Arthur had bought at a high-stakes auction just two days ago for a record price. It was stunning. And it stung. I nodded and brushed past her to find a quiet corner. The caller was my older brother, Nathan. His voice was warm, tinged with his usual lazy charm. "Happy birthday, superstar." "Grandfather is back in the States. Brace yourself; that family arrangement we talked about… it’s back on the table." The arrangement had been set years ago between our grandfather and his old business partner. Since Grandfather went abroad for his health, it hadn't been mentioned—until now. I looked down, my voice quiet but firm. "Nathan, I’ll do it. I agree to the marriage." "I know the Vance family has a lot of rules. I’ll settle my affairs here quickly." "And then… I’m leaving the industry." 2 When I returned to the room, Seraphina was already sitting intimately close to Arthur. A perfectly cut piece of steak sat on her plate, placed there by his hand. "Melody, Arthur said you’re willing to give me the lead in The Last Song." "I know the role might not mean much to an established star like you, but for my comeback, it’s the crucial first step." "Melody, thank you." Her tone was airy. I didn't hear a shred of gratitude; I only heard the triumph. I bit my lip to speak, but Arthur cut me off. "Why are you thanking her?" "It’s just one role. Besides, you were always the better fit for the character." The indulgence in his eyes was blatant. Shameless. My brother’s words echoed in my ear: “Melody, Arthur Sterling isn’t a good man. If he won't go public, if he won't commit, he doesn't love you enough.” It wasn't that he didn't love me enough. He didn't love me at all. Nathan was just trying to save my pride. I forced a smile. "Director Miller invited me personally for this film." "I don't have the right to 'give' it away. Mr. Sterling should know that no one interferes with Miller’s casting." Arthur shot me a look, his expression turning frigid. "Then you resign from the project." 3 I had been in the industry for seven years. I went from indie films to the silver screen. Arthur had watched me grow every step of the way. He knew better than anyone that this film was supposed to be my masterpiece, my legacy. But now… It suddenly didn't seem that important. Not because the role didn't matter, but because Arthur didn't matter. I stayed silent for a long time until Arthur’s impatient voice cut through again. "Is there a problem?" I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "No problem." Before re-entering the room, I had already called Director Miller to apologize. He tried to talk me out of it. I had spent three years in a local theater troupe honing my craft just for this role. Arthur frowned slightly when I didn't fight back. He seemed surprised I had given in so easily. "Melody, don't be dramatic." "I’ve already looked at a few other scripts for you. You can pick one in a couple of days." A slap, then a piece of candy. Ever since Seraphina came back, Arthur had been using this tactic to strip away almost all my resources. If she wanted it, I had to give it up. Once, during a heated argument, I asked him, "What if one day she wants you? Would I have to give you up to her, too?" Arthur had said, "She wouldn't." Only now did I realize what he meant. She wouldn't have to ask. He was already hers. 4 As we left the restaurant, the first snow of the season began to fall over Manhattan. Arthur naturally took off his coat and draped it over Seraphina’s shoulders. I looked away instantly. Arthur cleared his throat, sounding slightly uncomfortable as he tried to explain. "Seraphina’s health is—" "It doesn't matter, Arthur." "My car is here. I’ll head out first." My black SUV pulled up, followed by a familiar sports car. I cut him off with a smile; I felt strangely more peaceful than I had moments ago. As the door opened, Seraphina called out to me. "Melody, come with us." "Let Arthur drop you off. You’ve helped me so much; I really should thank you properly." She playfully nudged Arthur. "Is this how you treat your girlfriend? You don't even know how to walk her to her door." "You’re just as immature as when we were dating." Arthur looked at Seraphina, his eyes filled with a tenderness I had never seen. "No need." "I’ll drop you off first." He took the keys from the valet, never once glancing at me. Seraphina kept teasing him, the perfect picture of a bickering couple. "I’ve told you so many times, girls need to be pampered." "Arthur, do you ever listen to a word I say?" As the door closed, I let out a light laugh. It wasn't just her words. She was the only one he ever listened to. 5 Seraphina was Arthur’s first love. In our third year together, he had whispered her name in a drunken stupor. She was the "Golden Girl" of Hollywood who had hit her peak and then suddenly retired and moved to Europe, vanishing from the map. That night, I didn't sleep at all. When Arthur sobered up the next morning, he held me and confessed everything. "I didn't know what love was back then." "Even if I saw her again, I’d only feel a sense of debt toward her." So they met. I don't know what happened between them, but after that, Arthur became even more generous with me. He threw money at my career, securing every luxury brand deal and high-profile role. He said he loved watching me act, loved seeing me full of confidence in front of the camera. Just like when I was twenty, on the day of my first audition. Arthur, the lead investor, had ignored everyone’s objections to give me the lead role. The movie became a sleeper hit. My agent took me to a high-stakes industry mixer, telling me to thank the investors. I didn't know my drink was spiked. In my panic, Arthur had suddenly burst through the door. That night. Arthur and I did everything we should and shouldn't have done. The "love at first sight" from the audition flooded my heart, and I was completely lost. Back then, he built me up. Just like he was building up Seraphina now. 6 I went back to the penthouse Arthur had bought for me. Since Seraphina’s return, he barely came over. Once or twice, it was only because he had taken another contract or role from me. He’d tell me to wait for him at the apartment. Once he heard me say "it’s fine" in person, he’d leave in a hurry. But today. He probably wouldn't come. Before going upstairs, I had the building manager bring up several large packing boxes. I turned on some music and began to slowly pack my things. I took down the photos from the display case one by one. Arthur never took photos of me. The ones I had were mostly official press shots from events we attended together, but I had cherished them like treasure. By the time the boxes were taped shut, Arthur had already sent several scripts to my email. He sent a follow-up text: “I’m going to be out of town for the next two weeks. I might not be able to reply to messages promptly.” “Once you’ve picked a script, contact my assistant directly.” “Happy birthday. Goodnight.” I curled my lip and didn't reply. Before leaving the apartment, I deleted my fingerprints from the smart lock. I left the keys and the keycard in the tray on the foyer table. The night security guard looked at me uncertainly. "Are you leaving all of this behind?" "Yeah, I don't need it anymore." "I’ll have to trouble you to help me dispose of the rest. Thanks." 7 On the day the cast for The Last Song was officially announced, Arthur, who was still out of town, actually called me. "Are none of those scripts to your liking?" "My assistant says you haven't contacted him." His voice was neutral, devoid of emotion. My brother, Nathan, was leaning back in the passenger seat of my car. Hearing Arthur’s voice, his brow twitched with annoyance. "I’m taking a break from acting for a while. I have other plans." "I’m driving, I have to go." Arthur didn't say much. But before the call ended, a faint woman’s voice drifted through the car’s speakers. "Is Melody still upset about the movie?" "Arthur, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault." I took a deep breath, meeting my brother’s probing gaze. "Nathan, I can handle the contract terminations myself." "Don't worry." Because of Arthur’s ego, the business clauses in my contracts were mostly in my favor. Even if I breached them, the fallout wouldn't be too bad. "If you need anything, call your brother." "Drop me at the next corner. I’m meeting Silas…" Nathan nodded, but his voice trailed off. He looked out the window with a bit of awkwardness. "Silas Vance just happened to be in the city for business." "Once you’ve finished up here, we’ll head back to Charleston together." 8 By the time I finished all the paperwork to terminate my contracts, Arthur still hadn't heard the news. In the past, he’d know the second anything happened to me, fearing I’d suffer or get hurt. The day I decided to retire, I was worried Arthur might try to block me. But as I drafted the official announcement for social media, I laughed. I was overthinking it. I felt a sense of relief; this was for the best. An ambiguous beginning, a clean ending. The post was scheduled. When I got out of the shower, there were several missed calls. From my parents. From industry friends. From producers and directors I had worked with. My brother’s call came through too, his voice urgent. "Are you home?" "Is it a good time? I’m coming over now." It wasn't until Nathan showed up at my door, drenched in sweat, that I realized the internet had exploded. Photos of Arthur and Seraphina entering and leaving hotels and tourist spots in Europe had been leaked at the exact moment I announced my retirement. The internet was having a field day. "No matter how beautiful the trophy bird is, she has to make room for the original muse." I stared at the screen, at that top-voted comment. My heart felt surprisingly still. "Melody, are you okay?" "I’ve already called people to take the posts down. Don't let it get to you." I wanted to say it wasn't necessary. But the Vance family was old money, deeply involved in the community. I might not care, but they would. And I truly didn't want anything to do with Arthur Sterling ever again.
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