10th
1764 Words
Victoria Price did not hesitate for a single second. She plugged the sleek silver drive directly into the master judging console. The massive digital screens dominating the back of the auditorium stage flickered wildly before stabilizing into a crystal clear video projection.
The pristine audio of the Harmonia Auditorium was instantly replaced by the muffled, hollow acoustics of a damp basement practice room. The timestamp glowing brightly in the bottom corner indicated the footage was recorded exactly three years ago.
On the massive screen, a much younger, slightly thinner Ryan Parker sat hunched over a cheap, battered electronic keyboard. His clothes were completely faded, but his eyes burned with a profound, undeniable artistic passion. Sitting cross legged on the floor right beside him was Megan Harper. She was looking up at the younger Ryan with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration.
"You see this specific chord progression right here, Megan?" the Ryan in the video asked, his voice completely clear and whole, completely lacking the horrific rasp the academy had grown accustomed to. He played the exact, intricate bridge that Logan had just performed minutes ago. "It is the precise sound of watching something beautiful die. It is about a love that simply cannot survive the winter. I am officially titling it Fading Echoes."
The Megan on the massive screen smiled brilliantly. "It is absolutely brilliant, Ryan. You are an absolute genius. Nobody in the entire world writes music like you do."
The video paused perfectly on Megan’s adoring face. A stark white legal document abruptly flashed across the giant LED screen. It was the official United States Copyright Registration. The lead composer, lyricist, and absolute owner of the intellectual property was listed entirely under the name Ryan Parker. The filing date was permanently stamped three years prior to Logan Murphy’s fraudulent claim.
The cavernous auditorium went completely, terrifyingly silent. The thousands of people in the room collectively stopped breathing.
Then, absolute chaos erupted.
The wealthy record executives sitting in the front rows shot up from their plush seats, their faces twisted into masks of pure disgust. The industry elite despised many things, but blatant, undeniable plagiarism was the absolute highest sin imaginable. It was a crime that completely destroyed reputations overnight.
Logan Murphy burst out from the dark backstage wings like a violently cornered animal. His face was flushed a deep, panicked crimson.
"Turn that screen off immediately!" Logan screamed at the top of his lungs, pointing a trembling finger at the judging panel. "This is an elaborate setup! That video is a complete fabrication! It is an illegal deepfake generated by a jealous, pathetic stagehand who wants to steal my entire legacy!"
"Logan, please stop," Megan cried out, stumbling onto the brightly lit stage right behind him.
The emerald designer gown she wore suddenly looked incredibly heavy and entirely suffocating. The crushing weight of her profound guilt finally shattered her completely. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed heavily onto the hard wooden floor of the stage directly in front of thousands of recording cameras.
"It is the absolute truth," Megan sobbed loudly into the open microphone, her voice echoing with raw, devastating regret. "Ryan wrote every single note of Fading Echoes. He wrote it for me three years ago. Logan promised me a global recording contract if I simply kept my mouth shut and let him steal the copyright. I am so incredibly sorry, Ryan. I am so sorry!"
The crowd gasped in absolute horror. The final nail had been driven brutally into the coffin.
Victoria Price slammed her palms down hard onto the judging table, rising to her full, intimidating height. Her cold eyes locked onto Logan with absolute, venomous fury.
"Murphy Entertainment just attempted to heavily defraud the entire global music industry," Victoria stated, her sharp voice cutting straight through the chaotic noise of the crowd. "Plagiarism is an unforgivable offense. As the head judge of this academy, I am permanently striking both of your names from the official registry. You are permanently blacklisted from every single recording studio in this country. Get off my stage immediately."
Logan stumbled backward as if he had been physically struck by a speeding train. His entire world was disintegrating in real time. He looked frantically at the executives who had been praising his genius just five minutes prior. They were currently turning their backs on him in utter disgust.
Ryan Parker completely ignored the pathetic, sobbing mess happening right behind him. He did not gloat. He did not smile. He simply unlatched the heavy steel locks of his custom carbon fiber vault.
He lifted the Vogue Stratus into the bright stage lights. The vintage wood seemed to hum with an ancient, terrifying power. Ryan walked slowly back to the center microphone, stepping carefully around a weeping Megan.
A brilliant golden notification flashed vividly across his mind.
[Ding! Absolute Pitch engaged. Initiating Masterpiece performance: Requiem for a Traitor.]
Ryan did not plug the legendary guitar into an amplifier. He simply closed his eyes and struck the very first chord.
The sound was impossible. The raw acoustic resonance exploded from the vintage instrument with the sheer, crushing weight of a full symphony orchestra. The technical proficiency required to produce such a massive, devastating wall of sound was completely beyond human biology. It was the absolute fury of a god reclaiming his stolen throne.
Then, Ryan opened his mouth and sang.
"I built a shiny castle on a block of lies,"
"Now I watch my fragile kingdom fall before my eyes..."
His voice was a massive, soaring baritone that physically shook the dust from the high rafters of the auditorium. It was thick with profound sorrow, undeniable power, and absolute, terrifying sovereignty. The sheer harmonic frequency of his vocals bypassed the ears of the audience and vibrated directly inside their chests.
He executed a flawless, incredibly complex vocal run that no trained professional could ever hope to replicate without suffocating. The melody wept. The guitar screamed. It was a complete masterclass in musical destruction.
When Ryan struck the final, devastating note, he let the rich sound fade slowly into the complete vacuum of the auditorium.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Victoria Price, the undisputed Ice Queen of the global entertainment industry, was standing completely frozen at her judging table. Tears were streaming freely down her face, completely ruining her expensive makeup. She had searched her entire life for the perfect, divine frequency, and Ryan Parker had just delivered it effortlessly.
The absolute silence was suddenly broken by a massive, frantic stampede.
The CEO of Universal Sound leaped entirely over the velvet rope of the front row, completely ignoring his expensive suit. He sprinted aggressively toward the edge of the stage, wildly waving a legal document in the air.
"Mr. Parker! Please look over here!" the wealthy executive screamed desperately. "I am holding a blank check! Just write your absolute dream number on it! We will give you complete creative control over the entire label! Just sign with us tonight!"
"Get out of the way, you corporate vulture!" the president of Global Records shouted, violently shoving the first CEO aside to reach the stage. "Ryan! We will build an entirely new global division strictly under your name! We will fund your personal studio for the rest of your life!"
The entire front row devolved into a frantic, shouting mob of billionaires desperately begging for a single fraction of Ryan’s attention.
A sharp, incredibly loud electronic ringing sound suddenly pierced the chaotic atmosphere.
Logan Murphy was still kneeling on the wooden floor. His hands were shaking so violently he could barely pull his ringing smartphone from his silver blazer pocket. The caller ID boldly displayed his father’s name. The CEO of Murphy Entertainment.
Logan answered the phone with trembling fingers. The microphone stand nearby was still completely active, picking up the frantic, screaming voice on the other end of the line for the entire front row to hear clearly.
"You absolute, pathetic fool!" Richard Murphy roared through the phone speaker, his voice thick with pure panic and terrifying rage. "The international broadcast just showed that copyright video! Our corporate stock is currently plummeting into the ground! The board of directors has just called an emergency midnight vote to completely strip me of my executive title because of your public theft! You have utterly destroyed our entire family legacy in ten minutes!"
"Dad, please listen to me, I can easily fix this," Logan sobbed pathetically, completely abandoning his arrogant facade.
"There is absolutely nothing left to fix!" his father screamed violently. "Do not ever come back to my house! I am completely disowning you! You are entirely cut off from the family accounts! You are absolutely nothing to me now!"
The call disconnected with a sharp, heavy click that sounded exactly like a judge bringing down a final gavel.
The narrative perspective shifted entirely, dropping heavily into the dark, suffocating abyss of Logan Murphy’s shattered mind.
Logan knelt on the cold wooden floor. His ears were ringing with a high, painful frequency. He slowly raised his head, looking up through a blur of terrified tears.
Megan was curled into a tight ball a few feet away, weeping uncontrollably, entirely broken by her own greed. The massive crowd was screaming Ryan’s name with absolute, religious fervor. The wealthy industry executives were practically crawling over each other to offer up their entire fortunes.
Logan looked up at Ryan. The former campus mute stood tall in the blinding spotlight, holding the four million dollar guitar with effortless grace. Ryan looked down at Logan with absolute, freezing indifference. It was the exact look a human gives to an annoying insect right before stepping on it.
Ryan calmly raised his left hand. The desperate, screaming executives at the edge of the stage fell completely silent, waiting eagerly for the new sovereign of sound to accept one of their massive contracts.
Ryan brought the microphone close to his lips.
"I am completely flattered by your incredibly generous offers," Ryan said smoothly, his deep voice carrying an undeniable, terrifying weight across the auditorium. "But I am definitely not here to sign a recording contract. I just bought the Parker Pavilion to build my own label. If you want my music, you'll be signing contracts with me.”
- Writer
