The television studio was a maelstrom. Cables snaked across the floor like tripwires, crew members shouted into headsets, and the air crackled with the frantic energy of a live broadcast.
Lyra clutched her notebook to her chest, a small island of calm in the chaos.
“Lyra!”
Julian Croft intercepted her before she reached her dressing room, his smile genuine. He had been a surprising and welcome ally through the final weeks of the competition.
“Just wanted to say it before things get crazy,” he said, his voice low. “Forget the votes. Forget all of it. You’ve already won.”
His simple act of solidarity was a gift. It echoed the truth she already felt in her bones. “Thank you, Julian.”
A producer with a clipboard and a desperate look in his eyes rushed toward her. “Lyra! We need a quick pre-show interview. Just a few questions about your journey, your… inspiration.”
His eyes darted around, hungry. He wasn’t asking about her music. He was fishing for a soundbite about Isolde. The old Lyra would have frozen. The new Lyra simply shook her head.
“No, thank you,” she said, her voice polite but firm. “My performance will say everything that needs to be said.”
The producer’s face fell, but she walked past him without a second glance. She was done letting other people frame her narrative.
As she turned down the hallway to her dressing room, a monitor mounted on the wall caught her eye. It was a live news feed, a ticker scrolling across the bottom of the screen.
BREAKING: The Finch Foundation hosts star-studded gala to celebrate founder Isolde Finch’s ‘brave journey’ during tonight’s Starlight Serenade finale.
The irony was staggering. Isolde, celebrating her fabricated bravery at a gala built on lies, at the exact moment Lyra was preparing to sing her truth.
A year ago, the sight would have filled her with a storm of rage and pain. Now, it sparked something else entirely. A distant, hollow sense of pity.
Lyra turned away from the screen and pushed open the door to her dressing room, closing it firmly behind her. The noise of the hallway faded, leaving her in blessed silence. She was in the eye of the storm, perfectly still and completely focused.
About the Author
