Chapter 1

Misaki gripped her sheet music tightly as she stared at the piano in Haruka's Diner.

I can do this. Misaki thought, her heart racing and palms sweating. It's a diner, and no one will recognize me. Not anymore. She tugged on the tip of her charcoal grey paperboy hat, her long black hair bundled up and hiding in the hat.

"Are you going to play this time?" Haruka asked as she dried off a glass at the sidebar.

"I-I will. Just give me a moment, please." Misaki took a deep breath.

"There's no pressure; we don't have anyone scheduled to play today, so you can take your time, but you look like you're ready to have a panic attack."

She's probably right. Misaki swallowed hard, glanced at her completed sheet music and hugged it to her chest. It shouldn't be this hard. I've performed in front of thousands of people. She took another deep breath.

"Maybe a drink will calm your nerves." Haruka held up a bottle of rum.

"No, thank you." Misaki bowed to her. That'd probably make it worse for me. "I can't keep running away."

Haruka shrugged. "Guess you'll have to face your fears if you want to work in the music industry. Why don't you lose the hat? I'm sure people will watch if they see how beautiful you are."

"Kinda the point of the hat." She pulled the hood up on her navy blue sweater. "It's better if I can't see them at all."

"Well, good luck, Misa. I'll have a slice of your favourite cheesecake waiting for you when you're done."

"Thank you!" She rushed up to the grand piano and set her sheet music on the rack, refusing to back down. While taking a deep breath, she stretched her fingers, sat with her back straight, and rested her hands on the keys.

Starting slowly, her fingers glided across the keys in a soft melody. As she started to sing her song 'Dream', the pace picked up.

Everything flowed as it had in the old days, when performing was her life. Her fingers flew across the keys with ease.

Most people in the diner were busy eating their meals and talking to their companions. The sound of Misaki's voice and her melancholic tune caught their ears, and they turned to listen.

"Wow, she has a beautiful voice."

"Sad song, though."

The whispers of the audience caught her ear between the chorus and the verse.

"Oh, it's picking up a bit."

"Doesn't she sound familiar?"

Plunk.

Misaki hit the wrong key and froze, her throat tightening.

Crap. She breathed heavily, her heart racing as the music in front of her blurred. I can't do this. She grabbed her sheet music and bolted.

Thud.

Misaki ran into someone, and her papers fluttered to the floor. "I'm so sorry." She clawed at the papers on the ground, scrunching them up, and continued out the door.

"Hey, you missed one!" the man yelled out, but she had already gone down around the corner.

What's the point of trying to perform again? Nothing good can come of it. Tears pricked her eyes as she rushed into her nearby apartment.

Not wanting to chance being stuck in an elevator with people, she trudged up the stairs, and after a few attempts to use her PIN code, she stumbled into her apartment and collapsed onto her bed.

This sucks. She tossed her sheet music onto the floor.

I can't keep freezing at the drop of a hat. Ugh, I'm so pathetic.

"You're useless if you can't perform." Her ex-manager's words echoed in her head.

"Shut up!" She clamped her hands over her ears, even though she knew he wasn't there. "Why can't you leave me alone?!" She swiped at the trophies sitting on the shelf by her bed, the metal crashing together as she knocked them into the trash below.

Thud. Crack. One hit the side of the trashcan and split in two, leaving the golden microphone on the floor.

"Useless pieces of junk. What good are you to me now?" She picked up the piece of the trophy and tossed it in the trash with the others.

I should've gotten rid of them earlier. I should get rid of any connection to him. Maybe then I can move on.

She plopped down at her laptop, open to a long list of her own music. Even looking at that, she could see when things broke. Her upbeat pop songs — about dreams of romance and fame — turned bleak after he betrayed her. New songs turned to darker themes of betrayal, hurt, and rage. None of the songs after she split from her manager did any good.

Her eyes lingered on the song in the middle. The one he stole from her. Her own words sold to another singer, making him more money than if he'd stayed by her side.

"I should've known he was playing me. I should've seen it coming. It always comes down to money." Is there a point in keeping it? A constant reminder.

"Love in the Spotlight." Misaki sighed. She right-clicked and lingered on the delete button.

She couldn't do it.

The song about him. The one she used to love.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and closed her laptop.

I should just find another ghostwriting gig. She looked at the pile of songs already written, sitting on her desk, each in its own folder.

A few offers were waiting alongside them, but how do you choose?

Do they even get the songs? Do they connect? Does that even matter now? Be like others and sell them and forget them! "Ugh." Her stomach churned at the thought.

That'd make me too much like him...

Bing! A notification went off on her phone.

"What now?"

She dragged her phone out of her purse to see another offer, but this one was for the song 'Dream'.

"I didn't send that out yet." She frowned and glanced at the scrunched papers on her floor.

Her eyes widened when she saw who had sent the request. "Hayase."