---
"Why are you crying?" Tracy asked, gently brushing Mirabel's cheek.
"I'm not crying." Mirabel forced a smile, quickly turning her face away.
"You're my friend," Tracy pressed, eyes soft. "And I can see you're crying inside."
Mirabel hesitated, then whispered, "It's nothing… just some old memories."
"It's okay. You don't need to cry," Tracy assured her.
"Thank you." Mirabel straightened, wiping her face. "I should change back into my clothes now."
"Alright." Tracy smiled. "I'll do the same."
They both slipped away to change, returning moments later in their former outfits.
"Mirabel, I'll be leaving," Tracy announced, adjusting her bag. "I have to go find Mr. Perfect."
Mirabel raised a brow. "Wait… is that what you call your boyfriend?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not asking further."
Tracy chuckled. "Good. Bye, bestie."
As soon as she left, Tracy began searching. Spotting a security staff nearby, she asked, "Excuse me, have you seen a blonde guy? About five-eight, talks too much?"
"Yes, ma'am. He's over there." The man pointed to the VIP section.
Her stomach twisted. Why is he in VIP? Did he even watch me sing? She clenched her fists. Perfect. Maybe I'll finally find a reason to break up with that fool.
She strode toward the area, only to be stopped by a bodyguard.
"I'm Tracy Eric," she stated firmly. "Special guest of Mike King."
"Apologies, ma'am. Please, come in." He stepped aside.
Inside, her eyes fell on him—Eddie. His lips were locked with another girl's.
Tracy's smile was cold. Thank God. Finally, a clean way to cut ties without guilt.
"Eddie!" Her voice sliced through the air.
He froze, jerking back. "Tracy—this isn't what it looks like—"
"Then what is it?"
"I—hm… I—"
"Save it. We're done."
"No, no, you can't do this to me!" he begged, panic rising.
"Get over it. It's over."
"Tracy, please!"
She turned, but Eddie chased her, grabbing her wrist. In a flash, she twisted his arm back, her knee driving up into his groin. He collapsed with a strangled groan, but she wasn't finished. She kicked his leg, forcing him down on one knee.
"Don't you dare touch me with your filthy hands again," she spat, glaring down at him. "You're nothing but an E-list actor. Too low for me. And don't fool yourself—this breakup isn't about you cheating. I was planning to dump you years ago."
She released his arm with a final shove. Eddie groaned on the floor, clutching himself as she walked away without a backward glance.
---
Mirabel's POV
She had just stepped outside when Dave suddenly slipped an arm around her waist. Shock froze her, but before she could push him away, a familiar voice echoed in the shadows.
Xavier.
He smirked, camera in hand. This is going to spread like wildfire… His thumb hovered over the record button, but then he paused. No, a picture won't do. They'll need proof. Switching to video, he lifted the camera, eyes gleaming.
Dave leaned closer, whispering into her ear loud enough for the camera to catch.
"We're fucking at a party."
---