6th
1363 Words
Sunlight poured into the Grand Acoustic Suite, illuminating the flawless grain of the Stratus resting on Ryan Parker lap. He sat like a monarch on a conquered throne.
"You are late for rehearsal," Ryan repeated.
Logan Murphy stood frozen in the doorway, his brain rejecting the scene. This was the campus mute he had thrown money at yesterday. Yet the man in the center of the room wore bespoke wool that cost more than Logan entire outfit, casually holding an instrument money alone could not acquire.
"What are you doing in here?" Logan exploded, stepping into the suite. "How did you get past security? Did you rob a boutique after I got you fired?"
Ryan did not flinch. He ran his fingers across the strings, producing a soft hum. "I walked through the front doors, Logan. The only difference is today, people held them open for me."
Megan Harper was speechless. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared at Ryan with terrified eyes. She took in the expensive coat and perfectly styled hair, then her eyes locked onto his throat. The jagged scar remained, but the horrific rasp was gone. He sounded like a god.
"Ryan," Megan whispered, her voice trembling. "Your voice. The doctors said your vocal cords were permanently destroyed."
Ryan shifted his cold gaze to her. There was no love left, not a trace of his former devotion. He looked at her like a trespassing stranger.
"Medical science is fascinating when you have the capital to afford the best treatments," Ryan lied smoothly, concealing the System. "But you would not know about that, Megan. You were busy spending my paychecks on your vocal coaches while I bled in the basement."
Megan flinched as if struck. Tears welled in her eyes as her buried guilt clawed to the surface.
"That is enough!" Logan shouted, stepping protectively in front of Megan. He glared at the vintage instrument. "I do not care what black market doctor fixed your throat. You are trespassing in a privately booked suite. And that is the Vogue Stratus from Symphony Elite. A four million dollar instrument. You stole it."
Logan pulled his smartphone from his pocket with a triumphant sneer. "You are going to prison, Parker. I am calling the police and Dean Marcus to press maximum charges."
Ryan let out a low, echoing chuckle devoid of fear. He placed the guitar into its carbon fiber vault and stood up, walking toward the grand piano in the corner. A tray held a pitcher of ice water and delicate crystal glasses for elite vocalists.
"Call the Dean," Ryan said casually, pouring a glass of water. "But first, listen to a message he sent me ten minutes ago."
Ryan placed his phone on the polished piano and pressed play. The frantic, highly respectful voice of Dean Marcus filled the suite.
"Mr. Parker. I want to formally confirm the receipt of your fifty million dollar wire transfer. The board of directors has ratified the acquisition. The West Wing is completely under your administrative control and will be renamed the Parker Pavilion tomorrow morning. We are entirely at your service."
The recording clicked off, leaving a profound vacuum of silence.
Logan stared blindly at the phone, all color draining from his face. His mouth opened and closed without sound. His mind short circuited. Fifty million dollars. Ownership of the building. Parker Pavilion.
"You see, Logan," Ryan said, taking a slow sip of water. "You cannot trespass in a building you own. And you cannot steal a guitar when you possess the limitless capital to buy the entire store."
"This is a fake recording," Logan whispered, trembling with denial. "You are a broke stagehand! You lived on instant noodles!"
"Denial is an ugly look on you," Ryan replied, setting the crystal glass down. "I did not buy this building to prove a point to a spoiled child. I bought it because I needed a proper acoustic environment to practice the song you stole."
Megan let out a choked sob. "Ryan, please. We did not mean for it to go this far. Logan said the song would die with you. He said you could never perform it."
"And you believed him," Ryan stated, his voice dropping to a dangerous frequency.
He stepped toward the center microphone stand, not bothering to turn on the amplification. The room itself was the amplifier.
"You traded everything we built for a shortcut," Ryan stared directly into Megan tear filled eyes. "You thought my voice was dead. Let me show you exactly what you threw away for a fake contract."
Ryan closed his eyes. The System interface glowed in his mind, activating Absolute Pitch. He drew a slow, deep breath into his fully restored lungs.
When he opened his mouth, he unleashed a force of nature.
"I built a kingdom from the ash and the bone,"
The first line hit the room like a physical shockwave. The baritone resonance was impossibly pure, so dense with raw emotion that the floorboards vibrated. It was the exact melody of Fading Echoes, elevated to a godlike standard.
"Now watch the empire collapse from the throne."
He hit a high, piercing tenor note, transitioning flawlessly. The acoustic pressure spiked. The harmonic frequency locked onto the delicate crystal glass Ryan had left on the piano.
With a sharp c***k, the glass shattered, scattering water and shards across the polished wood.
Megan let out a terrified scream. Her legs lost all strength. She collapsed to her knees in the doorway, weeping openly as the devastating realization set in. That world altering voice belonged to the man who would have given her the universe, and she had destroyed his heart.
Logan stumbled backward against the door frame. He looked at the shattered glass, then at Ryan, eyes wide with primal fear. He knew exactly what he had witnessed. If Ryan sang like that at the showcase, Logan stolen arrangement would be exposed as a pathetic imitation.
Ryan stood perfectly still, his breathing calm and effortless. He looked down at Megan with cold indifference. The l*****g dog was truly dead.
"Get out of my suite," Ryan commanded softly.
Logan grabbed Megan roughly by the arm, hauling her up. Panicking, he desperately wanted to escape the suffocating aura of the man he had tormented yesterday.
"You think you have won because of a cheap parlor trick?" Logan spat, his voice shaking. "The judges will never let a nobody take the stage! You are going to burn!"
Ryan walked back to the guitar and gently closed the heavy lid of the carbon fiber vault, locking the steel clasps.
"Enjoy the song you stole, Logan," Ryan said without looking back. "It will be the shovel you dig your own grave with on Friday."
Logan dragged a sobbing Megan into the hallway, slamming the acoustic doors shut behind them. He shoved Megan toward the stairwell, his chest heaving with panic and fury. Ryan Parker was a billionaire monster with a voice that could shatter glass. The plagiarism plan was compromised.
Logan pulled out his phone with shaking hands. He opened an encrypted messaging application and found the unlisted number of a fixer his father used for complicated corporate problems. His thumbs flew across the digital keyboard.
"I have a massive problem. I need a student at the Harmonia Conservatory dealt with immediately. Name is Ryan Parker. He needs an accident tonight. Break his hands, crush his throat again. Make absolutely sure he cannot physically stand on a stage this Friday. Name your price. I will double it."
He hit send, watching the delivery checkmark appear. A dark smile twisted his face. Ryan might have money and his voice back, but none of it mattered if he ended up in a hospital bed breathing through a tube.
The Starfall Showcase belonged to the Murphy family, and Logan was willing to kill to keep it that way.
- Writer
