Selene's breath hitched in her throat,The hallway outside the ICU was unusually quiet. Selene blinked up, still dazed, weak —but the moment her gaze met his, she realised ....
It washim
Her eyes widened, the corners trembling as fragments of that night flashed in her head — the rain, the blinding headlights, the sound of tires screeching. Through half-closed eyes, she had seen a tall young man rush out of the car, panic written all over his face."Y–You…" she whispered, her voice shaky.
Easton's eyes darted away immediately. He fumbled for his mask, pulling it up hurriedly "You're still here!" a voice shouted. John was sprinting toward them, Easton's eyes widened. He waved his hand subtly, trying to signal don't say more, but too late.
"If someone saw you here, we're done for! Why would you—"
Easton tried desperately to signal him to be quiet, shaking his head.
Too late. Selene was already turning toward the manager. Her eyes flicked between them. Once. Twice. And in that instant, she understood.
Selene sat upright on her hospital bed, arms folded," So… who wants to start? You? Or you?"
John stepped forward immediately. "Miss Vale, I already explained—"
"I saw him," Selene interrupted, pointing directly at Easton. "I saw him get out of the car. And I just saw him here, covered in blood. The person who apologized for hitting was you. You guys lied to me...why ?"
John cleared his throat quickly. "Lied about what? I already told you, I was the one who—"
"Please Don't," she cut him off, her voice steady. "I might've hit my head, but I'm not stupid."
Her gaze shifted to Easton. "I saw you," she said quietly. "That night. Maybe not clearly, but…even through blurry eyes I saw the person who came out of that car. Tall. Lean. Not him." her eyes were filled with disbelief.
John looked visibly uncomfortable, trying to salvage the moment. "Miss Vale, even if you did see something, you must've been disoriented—
"I... I wasn't going to pursue this anyway," Selene inturrupted
John cleared his throat. "Miss Vale, we were just trying to—"
"Oh, I know," she cut in sweetly. "Protect the precious idol. PR 101. Seen it a thousand times."
"Easton took a breath. "I—You… what do you mean?" Easton blinked, confusion flickering across his face.
Selene refuted "Why would you let someone else take your fall?"
Easton flinched. "Take my fall?" he murmured, looking at John. He was about to speak——when Selene scroffed cutting him off... "Big stars like you, who try to avoid responsibility ...I have seen many!"
"Easton's eyes hardened, voice rising defensively. "I didn't let anyone take anything! I was about to—who are you trying to lecture here?" John stepped forward. "Miss Vale, we don't want this to go public. He's willing to take full responsibility — privately, of course. We'll cover your medical bills, damages, anything you need—"
She slumped back on the pillow. "its okay thanks again for taking me to the hospital"
John gave a silent nod.
They turned to go, and just before they reached the door, Selene spoke out somewords which lingered but finally came out abruptly...
"I used to think idols were people who inspired others," she murmured, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "Now I just think they're good actors."
Easton froze, his fingers tightening on the door handle — but he didn't turn back. They walked out that's when she murmured again " I thought you were different from others!"
For the next few days, as Selene rested and recovered, Easton felt the gnawing anger. He asked John to run a detailed background check on the girl.
Meanwhile, at S city's International Airport, a suitcase was dragged across the gleaming floor. A sophisticated woman in her late twenties, wearing designer sunglasses, paused to answer her phone.
"Yes, I just landed. Yes, for now, I'm staying at the hotel," she said in a sharp, confident tone.
She cut the call, a slow smile touching her lips. "I'm finally back." She lifted her phone, and the wallpaper showed two students in high school uniforms, posing playfully. The girl was her; the smiling guy was a younger, carefree Easton Bright. "Hope you've not forgotten me, Easton," she murmured to herself before walking out of the terminal.
Later that morning, back in her hospital ward, Selene was on her laptop reviewing emails when the nurse came in.
"Hope you're feeling well, any uneasy feelings?" the nurse asked kindly.
"No, I'm much better, thank you," Selene replied.
"Oh! I almost forgot," the nurse said, producing a sleek black phone. "I think this is the phone of the gentleman who brought you in. He forgot to take it."
Selene stared at the phone.
She remembered the card John had given her. She dialed the number on her own phone.
After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "Yes, this is John Adams, from Lyra Entertainment. How may I help you?"
"Hello, Mr. Adams. It's me, the girl from the accident. I think you guys left a phone here by accident."
John, back at Lyra Entertainment, instantly remembered the confrontation he'd had with Easton just outside Selene's ward:
Easton cornered John near the vending machine.
"Why did you say that? I never asked you to take the blame."
John rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You think she'd just smile and thank you if she found out the world's biggest idol ran her over? Be real. You were in no state to handle it."
Easton frowned. "I was going to apologize. Properly."
"Apologize? Great idea. And while you're at it, should I book a press conference too?" John snapped, then sighed. "Look, kid. I did what I had to. Now go wash up and keep your head down. And don't take off your mask again."
"I was washing my face," Easton muttered under his breath. Then remembered that I had forgotten my phone and was just coming to fetch it! Who would have known she would come out of nowhere?" John groaned. "You're hopeless."
Brought back to the present, John voice was tight. "Yes, it's ours. I'll come by later and pick it up!"
Soft sound of piano keys filled the dimly lit room. The melody was gentle, unsure — like thoughts searching for words, in his music room, Easton was trying to play a soft, pure melody on his piano, but the chords still sounded wrong.
His phone, the one he had left at the hospital (got it back), buzzed with an incoming call. The screen displayed one name: Susanne.
His fingers froze on the keyboard. He stared at the screen for a long, heavy moment. The call cut, and immediately a message popped up:
Susanne: Long time no see, do you miss me?
Easton scoffed, picked up his phone without a second look at the message, and headed out.
Easton returned home, his mother was still on the phone in the living room
When she saw him, she covered the mic and said,
"Easton," she paused her conversation. "I want to talk to you. Wait in the study."
He simply nodded and headed towards the study
He browsed the shelves, seeing picture after picture of his mother with clients, dignitaries, and his father—but not a single one of him.
His mother stepped in a few minutes later, her expression stern. "What are you doing this weekend?"
"Nothing much. Why?" Easton asked, without turning to face her.
"I have pulled some strings and arranged a very nice meeting," she said, her voice turning insistent. "Try to reach on time and—"
"As I said earlier, I'm not interested in your business set-ups," Easton cut her off.
"I'm not asking," she said without looking up. "I'm telling you."
"This is with the daughter of Chairman Williams. Smart girl, passed out from Cornell, handling their overseas acquisitions.
" My answer won't change no matter how many times you ask" he stated, his voice dangerously low.
His mother, a woman who controlled multinational boardrooms with a sigh, barely flinched. "Stop being dramatic, Easton. You are a Brand. Brands require strategic partnerships."
She walked closer, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. "And stop acting like I don't know you. You think your manager only reports to you?"
Easton's posture stiffened. "What are you talking about?"
"Your notes, your drafts, that little dream project — Music Book, right? I read it. "That collaboration with the European producers? The one that is a 'life-long dream,' as you call it?
He finally turned, his eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't."
"I would. And I will," she countered, her voice now sharp. "You think your precious collaborations will go through if I decide otherwise? unless you cooperate. You think that sloppy manager of yours could have protected you any better if not for me intervening that night? If I didn't pull those strings, you'd be reading the headlines right now."
Easton's head shot up. "You are putting tabs on me again?"
"I am your mother! I know what is best!" she countered, her voice rising. "And I know everything you try to hide."
Easton scoffed. "You know nothing about me, just get to the point!"
Her smile faded, and what replaced it was pure command."I want you to go on ten dates for me," she said flatly. "All girls of my choice. You don't have to marry them, but if you can't end up with even one, I'll stop interfaring in your matters."
Easton's jaw clenched, eyes darkening. He said nothing. Just turned, grabbing his coat.
"Think it through," his mother called after him as the door opened. "You want your project… or your freedom?"
The heavy door slammed shut behind him, echoing through the cold halls.
Easton ran out of the mansion and scrambled into his car. As his hand hovered over the ignition, the memory of last night,slammed into him.
Easton who usually never prefer returning home got a call from his mom, "me and your father have something important to talk about, come home for dinner."
Back at the mansion his mother stood with arms crossed, a sharp edge in her voice.
"You refused again?," she'd started. "These dates aren't the end of the world."
He'd laughed bitterly. "You don't get to talk about my world. You weren't in it when I needed you."
She straightened her coat, unbothered. "I'm doing what's best for you."
"What's best for me?" He scoffed. "Since when do you know what that is? You weren't even there when I decided to pursue music. You just threw money at the problem and hoped it'd shut me up."
Her tone hardened. "Watch your mouth, Easton."
"No," he snapped. "You're not my manager. You're not even my mother half the time. You're just another executive who thinks emotions are a liability."
"
The air went still.His father — who had been quietly reading the newspaper in the corner — finally looked up.
"Enough," his father said quietly.
Easton turned toward him, shoulders shaking with restrained anger. "You too? You think this is fine? You never said a word when she dragged me through events I didn't care for, deals I didn't agree to—"
His father stood up. "That's because you don't understand responsibility. You think passion alone can feed you? Grow up, Easton!"
"I already did," Easton shot back. "While you two were too busy pretending to have the perfect family."
His Father didn't speak. He simply lifted his hand and delivered a hard, stinging slap across Easton's cheek. His mother exhaled slowly, her tone suddenly soft — the kind of softness that carried command."You remember Susanne, don't you?Wern't you guys always inseparable...best friends?" she asked, as though nothing had happened. "She's coming back tomorrow. Just got a call from her."
That's when he looked down, one tear slipping free before he could hide it.
He turned around without another word and walked out into the storm.
His mother's voice followed faintly from behind —
"Easton! Don't you walk away from me!"