The week Fire in the Sky hit number seven on the Billboard Hot 100, Evan threw a celebration party so big the guest list leaked online. The studio was draped in gold streamers, champagne bottles popped like fireworks, and a neon sign flashed her name over the dance floor.
Everyone seemed thrilled—everyone except Maya.
She stood near the back, clutching a flute of champagne she hadn't touched, watching a DJ mix her song into a heavy club beat. The bass made her chest vibrate, but the voice coming through the speakers didn't feel like hers anymore.
Tasha found her leaning against the wall.
"Big week," she said, smirking. "You're officially famous."
"Am I?" Maya asked. "Or is this version of me famous?"
Tasha tilted her head. "Both. For now. Just don't forget which one's real."
The next morning, Maya sat across from a radio host in a glossy LA studio. "So, Maya, Fire in the Sky—what inspired it?"
She opened her mouth, ready to explain that she hadn't written it, that it came from a committee of strangers, but Evan was watching through the glass. She smiled instead. "It's about chasing dreams, no matter the odds."
The host nodded approvingly, jotting something down.
That night, she scrolled through fan videos—people dancing to the song, lip-syncing in their cars, using it as the soundtrack to marriage proposals and promposals. It was strange, seeing a song she didn't own in her heart take on a life of its own.
She picked up her guitar, playing one of her own unfinished songs. No beats, no studio polish—just her voice and the strings. For the first time in weeks, she felt something settle inside her.
She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep both worlds alive—the one Evan was building for her, and the one she still carried in her notebook.