“Alone?” His voice grows concerned.
“Yeah…hang on,” I mutter. “I’m just going to turn this off—argh!”
I scream as thunder detonates overhead, the world flashing white as a booming shockwave shudders through my ribs.
“Lily, are you alright?”
“Yes,” I manage, clutching my chest as the sound fades. My heart’s hammering, muscles locked tight, a tremor racing down my spine. “Did you hear it?”
“I did. Storm’s coming.”
“It’shere. Jesus Christ, that came out of nowhere. It’s not even raining yet!”
“Storms move fast on the coast,” he says, voice tight. “You should get off the beach.”
“I will,” I say distractedly as a stream ofpingsvies for my attention. “I just need to shut this thing up—it’s driving me insane.”
I quickly swipe up the app, meaning to log out, delete it,something—
And then I freeze.
“Oh no,” I breathe.
“What is it?”
“He’s posted a video.”
“What video?”
I tap Play. Jack fills the screen, playing front and centre on stage at the café. I’m there too, both of us playing our guitars, but from this angle, I’m blurred and half-hidden, my voice swallowed beneath his.
“It’s from tonight,” I stammer. “The last song we played together. It…”
A sick lurch twists through my gut as I read the caption.
Lightning tears open the sky, a stark vein of white. Thunder rolls around me again, but I barely feel it. I barely feel anything except the glow of the screen burning through me.
“Lily, it doesn’t matter. You have to get off the beach.”
“Itdoesmatter,” I bite out, because my entire chest is caving in, betrayal stabbing me like a dagger. “He’s written… ‘Inspired by the talented Lily-Anne, who helped with guitar and backing vocals tonight.’” My voice grows thick. “Helped? Backing vocals? But…it’s my song.”
Thousands of people have liked the video, hundreds have commented, and suddenly the lie feels so big it almost swallows me whole.
Silence. A lethal stillness—then the world erupts again, shaking the air apart.
“Wait. Jack wrote that?” Brandon asks, words cutting like broken glass.
“Yeah.” My hand trembles around the phone. “He did.”
“Bastard.”
I barely register the curse. Comments flood the screen, the likes climbing by the second. Tags. Mentions. A deluge.
And there, right underneath the caption…
Tagged:@Lily_Anne (Collaborator)
A hot spike of disbelief stabs through me. “I can’t believe this..”
