Chapter 4

He woke up on the cold floor of a beach house guest room, his arm and ankle throbbing. Sunlight streamed through a crack in the curtains. Tori stood over him, her expression unreadable.

"Get up, Ethan," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "Julian is feeling better. He wants you to play for him. Something soothing."

He struggled to sit up, wincing. "Ms. Vanderbilt," he began, the formal address a deliberate distancing.

Her eyes flashed. "Don' t call me that. It' s Tori. It' s always been Tori for you."

"Things change," he said quietly.

"Not everything," she snapped. "I warned you once, Ethan, a long time ago. I told you I don' t share what' s mine. I told you I prefer my... possessions... to be compliant. You seem to have forgotten that lesson." Her voice was low, menacing. She reached down, her fingers brushing the raw, bruised skin on his arm. A reminder.

He remembered. Years ago, in a fit of jealousy, she' d smashed a rival musician' s hand, whispering to Ethan later, "See how much I love you? No one else can have your talent, or you." He had been horrified then, but also naively flattered by the intensity of her possessiveness. Now, he understood it for what it was: a dangerous, suffocating control.

He nodded slowly, accepting his role. For now. "What would you like me to play?"

The "event" was a grotesque parody of a VME party, held at Tori' s sprawling beach estate. Julian, his foot propped on a velvet cushion, held court, surrounded by sycophants. Ethan, forced into a clean shirt, his injuries crudely bandaged, was led to a small dais where a piano had been set up.

As he walked through the crowd, he heard the whispers, the snickers.

"That' s Liam Kincaid, isn' t it? Used to be a big deal."

"Heard Tori dumped him for Vance. Looks like he took it hard."

"Serves him right. Always so arrogant."

The public scorn, once held back by Tori' s protective fury, was now unleashed. He felt a bitter irony. He remembered a time when Tori had eviscerated a gossip columnist for a mildly critical remark about him. She had shielded him fiercely. Now, she was the one exposing him to ridicule.

Tori and Julian made their entrance, all smiles and staged affection. Julian, limping theatrically, leaned heavily on Tori, who beamed at him with adoration. All eyes were on them.

Ethan watched Julian. He saw the swagger, the confident, almost arrogant air. It was a pale imitation of Ethan' s own youthful confidence, the raw talent and untamed spirit that had first captivated Tori. He understood, with a pang of self-loathing, Julian' s appeal to her. Julian was a new, shinier version of what Ethan once represented.

"Play, Ethan," Tori commanded, her voice carrying across the suddenly silent room. "Play for Julian."

He sat at the piano, his fingers stiff and sore. He was being forced to perform for his replacement, his art, once a sacred bond between him and Tori, now a tool for his humiliation.

He began to play. Not one of his own compositions, or the pop-infused tracks Tori had forced on him. He played a Chopin nocturne, one his mother used to love. A piece full of sorrow, of longing, of irrevocable loss. It was a lament, a farewell. A farewell to his music, to his love for Tori, to the man he used to be.

The notes filled the room, melancholic and profound. He poured all his pain, his disillusionment, his quiet despair into the music. This was his final song for her, though she wouldn' t understand its meaning.

He felt Tori shift uncomfortably. A flicker of something – unease? Regret? – crossed her face. But it was fleeting.

Julian, however, was visibly annoyed. "This is depressing," he whined, interrupting the piece mid-phrase. "Play something upbeat. Something I can dance to, if my ankle wasn' t so terribly injured by some people." He shot a venomous glare at Ethan.

Then, Julian turned to the crowd, his voice dripping with malice. "He' s just trying to get sympathy, you know. Playing all sad and wounded. Probably still upset about the divorce. Can' t accept that Tori has moved on to bigger and better things."

Ethan said nothing, his hands falling silent on the keys. His silence seemed to infuriate Julian more.

"What' s wrong, Miller?" Julian taunted. "Cat got your tongue? Or did Tori finally teach you some manners?"

Julian then turned to Tori, his voice petulant. "Darling, I' m bored. This party is a drag. And he," Julian gestured contemptuously at Ethan, "is a total downer. Aren' t you supposed to be the queen of VME? Can' t you control your cast-offs better than this?"

The public challenge hung in the air, a blatant act of disrespect.