The theme for the A-Side semi-finals was “Heartbreak.”
William sat in the VIP box, concealed by the shadows. He shouldn’t be here. Cynthia had forbidden it. But he couldn’t stay away. He needed to hear her voice.
On stage, the lights dimmed to a single, stark spotlight. Victoria sat on a stool, her acoustic guitar resting on her knee. She wore a simple black dress, stark and mourning.
She began to play. The song was titled “The Ghost of You.”
*”I built a house of paper walls / You struck the match and watched it fall / I waited in the ashes there / But you were breathing other air.”*
Her voice was haunting, a raw nerve exposed to the world. William felt tears prick his eyes. She was singing to him. She had to be. She was singing about the fire, the destruction he had caused.
*”So I’m laying down the heavy stone / I’m walking out into the unknown / I don’t hate you for the crime / I just hate I wasted time.”*
As the song reached its crescendo, the music swelled. William leaned forward, his heart in his throat, waiting for her to look up, to find him in the darkness as she always used to.
*”I’m letting go,”* Victoria sang, her voice soaring. *”I’m finally free.”*
She looked up. But she didn’t look at the VIP box.
She turned her head to the wings of the stage. There, standing just out of sight of the audience, was Dominic Valerius. He gave her a small, solid nod. Victoria locked eyes with him and smiled–a sad, final smile of release.
In the box, William felt as if he had been shot. She wasn’t singing to him. She was singing *about* him, to the man who was replacing him.