Aria's POV
The drunk man threw a peanut at my face.
It bounced off my cheek while I sang the final note of "Yesterday's Dreams." My voice cracked. Not because of the peanut. Because I was thirty-five years old, singing in a bar that smelled like old beer and broken promises, and nobody cared.
"You suck!" someone yelled from the back.
I forced a smile. "Thank you for listening. I'll take a short break."
Twelve people in the audience. Eleven were on their phones. One was asleep.
This was my life.
I climbed off the tiny stage, my cheap heels catching on the loose floorboard I'd warned the owner about last week. My manager—if you could call Larry a manager—waved at me from the bar. He was drinking again.
"Good set, Aria!" he shouted.
Liar. We both knew it was terrible.
I grabbed my phone from behind the bar and walked to the bathroom. My reflection in the dirty mirror made me want to cry. When did I get so old? When did my eyes lose their light?
I knew exactly when. Thirteen years ago, when my best friend stole everything from me.
My phone buzzed. A news alert.
"MAYA LIN WINS GRAMMY FOR BEST NEW ARTIST"
My hands shook. I clicked the video. There she was. Maya. Beautiful Maya in a white dress that cost more than my entire year's salary. Holding the golden gramophone trophy. Crying perfect tears.
"I want to thank my best friend from college," Maya said into the microphone. The camera flashed. Everyone clapped. "Aria Chen. Wherever you are, you inspired me. This is for you too."
I threw up in the sink.
Inspired her? I WROTE that song. "Echoes of Tomorrow." I wrote it in our apartment when we were twenty-three, sitting on the floor with my old guitar. Maya said it was beautiful. She said she'd help me record it.
Instead, she recorded it herself. Put her name on it. Became a star while I became nothing.
I tried to fight back. I really did. I told people the truth. But Maya had a powerful producer protecting her. Victor Zhang. He blacklisted me from every studio. Called me jealous. Crazy. A liar.
My own boyfriend Ethan chose Maya's side. "You're being bitter, Aria. Maybe she did write it and you forgot."
I didn't forget. I never forgot.
That was thirteen years ago. I spent thirteen years singing in bars like this. Thirteen years watching Maya win awards for MY songs. Thirteen years dying inside while everyone called me a washed-up nobody who never was somebody to begin with.
Even my mother said, "Maybe music wasn't your path, dear. Luna became a doctor. Why couldn't you be more like your sister?"
Because I wasn't Luna. I was Aria. And I had talent. I had dreams.
But dreams don't matter when nobody believes in you.
I wiped my mouth and walked back to the stage. Larry waved at me. "Five more songs, then you're done for the night."
Five more songs for fifty dollars. That's what my life was worth.
I picked up the microphone. Started singing "Broken Wings"—another song I wrote that nobody would ever hear properly. My voice sounded tired. I felt tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of hoping things would change.
The audience ignored me. A couple in the corner kissed. The drunk man ordered another beer.
Then I heard it. A strange creaking sound above my head.
I looked up. The stage lights were swinging. That wasn't normal.
"Um, Larry?" I called out. "Something's wrong with—"
The creaking got louder. Metal scraping against metal. The light fixture shook hard.
"Get off the stage!" someone screamed.
I tried to run. My heel caught in that stupid loose floorboard. I fell hard, my knee cracking against the wood. Pain shot up my leg.
The lights were falling. I could see them coming down. Everything moved so slow and so fast at the same time.
I thought about Maya holding that Grammy. My Grammy.
I thought about Ethan kissing my cheek before he left me for my best friend.
I thought about my mother saying, "Why can't you be more like Luna?"
I thought about thirteen years of almosts and nearlys and not-quite-good-enoughs.
If I could do it all over again...
If I had one more chance...
The lights hit the stage. Sparks flew. Someone screamed my name—maybe Larry, maybe nobody. The floor under me cracked. I was falling. Not just from the stage. Falling through darkness, through空空, through everything.
My last thought before the black swallowed me whole:
Please. Just one more chance. I'll do it all differently.
Then nothing.
Until—
My phone alarm screamed in my ear.
I gasped, sitting up so fast my head spun. My heart pounded like crazy. I was alive. I was...
I looked around. This wasn't the bar. This wasn't the hospital. This was...
My old apartment?
No. That was impossible. I moved out of this place twelve years ago.
I grabbed my phone with shaking hands. The alarm read:
"AUDITION DAY - APEX ENTERTAINMENT - 2PM"
The date said: April 15, 2013
I stared at that date. Stared at my hands. Young hands. Smooth hands.
I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
Twenty-two-year-old me stared back.
My scream caught in my throat. This couldn't be real. This was crazy. This was impossible.
But my reflection didn't lie.
I was young again.
And today was the day that ruined my entire life.