Part 2If Love Is a Lie

And I was a rat, scuttling through the filth of the gutter. Every drop of sweat, every ounce of effort I had ever put in, was now worthless.

When I didn’t reply, Nathaniel made a show of it at his party, his face a mask of feigned concern. “Jayce hasn’t texted me back. Do you think he’s still mad at me?”

Clarissa’s expression was unreadable. “If he doesn't want to come, forget him.”

Nathaniel and I are fraternal twins. From the day we were born, he was better than me at everything. I used to wonder if my genes were defective. Compared to my ordinary existence, his life was like playing with cheat codes enabled.

Our parents groomed him to be the heir. I was the invisible one, a role that, for a time, I was happy to play.

The one area where I, the good-for-nothing son, had a flicker of talent was music.

It was Clarissa who approached me first, back in my sophomore year of high school. I’d just won the campus singing competition, and as the student council president, she was the one to present my award. Under the spotlights, for the first time, I felt like I had finally stepped out of Nathaniel’s long shadow. I even found a sliver of confidence.

As the heiress to Clarity Entertainment, she took a keen interest in me. We started spending more time together.

I knew how Nathaniel looked at her, the undisguised adoration in his eyes. So, when he suddenly developed an interest in music—a passion he’d always sneered at—I wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

Soon enough, they became the couple everyone on campus envied.

After graduation, Clarissa sent me an official invitation to join Clarity Entertainment. That same year, Nathaniel abruptly rejected the gilded path my parents had paved for him and vanished. He spent the next six years abroad, alone.

His disappearance threw our family into chaos. Even Clarissa, who was always so composed, was a mess, completely lost.

When Nathaniel finally returned six years later, he had a Master’s degree from Berklee College of Music.

A single, well-timed tear was all it took. Our relieved parents couldn’t bring themselves to say a single word of reproach. My fiancée, Clarissa, began to waver, her guilt over his absence twisting into something else.

That one tear effortlessly stole everything I had.

Now, Nathaniel was basking in the admiration of millions on every news headline, while I was holed up in a company-owned apartment, teaching myself to write songs.

[They twist your words with malicious intent / They dismiss your struggle with a careless hand.]

My official account, with its ten million followers, had long been banned. I started over, using my real name, Jayce, to upload my original work.

Within half a day, every track was taken down, buried under a flood of malicious reports.

The second year of Clarissa’s blacklist. I had no songs to sing, no shows to book. The company gave me zero resources. My manager and assistant were reassigned. The clauses in my contract were a cage, preventing me from even taking on small commercial gigs. My stage performances were reported and removed, my appearances in variety shows were blurred out.

As a "disgraced artist," all my accounts were silenced. Even my burner account on TikTok was swarmed by haters until it was locked.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel, with Clarissa clearing his path, won "Best New Artist" at the Vanguard Music Awards.

The third year of Clarissa’s blacklist.

Nathaniel competed on Soundwave, the country's top music reality show, and was crowned "King of Singers."

And my five-year contract with Clarity Entertainment finally expired.

I had no intention of renewing.

My former manager, Anna, heard the news and rushed over to talk me out of it. “Clarissa’s on a business trip in Paris. Why don’t you wait for her to get back before you decide anything?”

Of course, I knew she was in Paris. In the family group chat I had muted, Nathaniel, who was "on vacation," was posting daily photos of his romantic trip with her.

Seeing my resolve, Anna’s voice grew anxious. “Jayce, I heard from the higher-ups… before Clarissa left, she told them to start prepping for your comeback next year. You’ve toughed it out for three years. Don't throw it all away now when we're so close, right?”