The lights were blinding. The crowd was roaring. The cameras were flashing.
And Ethan Vale felt nothing.
He moved across the stage like a shadow, hitting every note, every beat, every choreographed movement flawlessly. But the spark-the joy, the fire, the connection with the music-was gone. It had died the moment he saw Aria with Blake. The moment the world knew. The moment trust shattered.
He didn't notice the fans screaming his name. He didn't notice the glittering lights reflecting in their eyes. He didn't even notice his bandmates trying to catch his attention, trying to cheer him up, trying to pull him back into the world he had once loved.
He only noticed her-Aria-smiling in the VIP section, hand in Blake's.
And something inside him snapped.
He finished the song, bowing mechanically, ignoring the applause. The bandmates were confused. The fans were thrilled. But he didn't care.
Backstage, someone clapped him on the shoulder.
"Ethan! That was amazing!"
He turned sharply, eyes icy. "Did it look like I cared?" he snapped. The words cut like knives, leaving the person recoiling.
He didn't wait for a response. He stormed out of the room, pushing past the crew, ignoring the band, ignoring everything. The world had watched him smile, watched him perform, watched him be the golden boy. Now, they would see something different. Something cold. Something dangerous.
Outside, the paparazzi waited. They were relentless, cameras aimed, flashbulbs firing nonstop.
"Ethan Vale, are you okay?" one shouted.
"Do you forgive Aria Knox?" another called.
"Are you going to retaliate against Blake Ryder?"
He didn't answer. He didn't even slow down. He glared at them, eyes sharp and dangerous, making it clear that the golden boy was gone.
Fans in the crowd tried to call out, waving banners, screaming his name.
He didn't hear them. He couldn't hear them. All he could hear was the echo of her laugh, the sight of her smile, the betrayal that cut deeper than anything he'd ever imagined.
He felt the anger rising again. Not the kind that makes you want to shout or cry. No. This was the kind that simmers, spreads through your veins like poison, and hardens every muscle in your body.
He hated everything. The world, the fans, the cameras, the people who cheered. And most of all...he hated women.
Every girl who smiled at him, every fan who screamed his name, every girlfriend who sent him a text of concern-they were all tainted now. He couldn't trust any of them. Not one. They were all capable of betrayal. All capable of making him feel weak. All capable of laughing behind his back.
At rehearsal later, his bandmates tried again. "Ethan...come on, man. Let's practice the new song. It's-"
"Don't talk to me," he snapped, voice low but deadly. "I said leave me alone."
They flinched. They hadn't seen him this angry. And honestly, they didn't want to.
He stormed out of the rehearsal room, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the building, a warning to anyone who dared get too close.
Even at home, he was unapproachable. His parents tried to talk, but he avoided them. His manager called repeatedly, but he ignored the phone. His social media accounts were flooded with messages from worried fans, but he didn't reply.
He didn't want anyone. He didn't want anything.
Except to disappear.
That night, he walked the streets alone, headphones on, music blaring, but even the songs he loved couldn't drown out the memory of her. He passed couples laughing, friends hugging, girls giggling with boys. Every sight, every sound, every moment felt like a reminder of the betrayal.
And he hated it. He hated them all.
At a late-night diner, he sat in a corner booth, ignored the waitress, ignored the other customers. He barely touched his food, instead staring into the empty cup in front of him.
He thought about Aria. About Blake. About the world that had turned his life into a spectacle. And he felt something he hadn't felt before-not sadness. Not heartbreak. Not anger. Something darker. Something colder.
Hatred.
He hated her for making him feel this way.
He hated Blake for being happy at his expense.
He hated the world for not stopping it.
He hated love for being cruel.
He hated trust for being fragile.
And most of all...he hated that he had ever allowed himself to believe in any of it.
He finished his drink, left a bill untouched, and walked out into the night. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle, and the streets were quiet. But inside, his mind was loud, spinning with thoughts of vengeance, isolation, and cold resolve.
No one would ever hurt him like that again.
No one would ever see him cry again.
No one would ever touch his heart again.
He didn't know how long he wandered. Minutes? Hours? Time didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the sharp edge of his anger, the walls he was building around himself, and the icy determination not to trust, not to love, not to open himself again.
By the time he returned home, the golden boy of Silver Pulse had disappeared completely. In his place stood a man who was distant, dangerous, and unapproachable.
And the world noticed.
Fans whispered. Reporters speculated. The band worried. But none of them could reach him. Not now. Not ever.
Except, maybe...one day, someone might.
But not today.
Today, he was alone.
And he wanted it that way.