Chapter 3

Eventually, I found myself at a live music bar.

After I played a short piece, the middle-aged owner looked me up and down with a sleazy grin. "You play alright, but our clientele are all wealthy types. They care about appearances.

"If you stick around tonight and have a few drinks with some VIPs, we can work out your pay."

I packed up my violin and walked out without looking back.

Behind me, his scornful laugh echoed, "Who are you trying to fool with that holier-than-thou attitude? Without Leon, you're nothing."

It was almost word-for-word what Leon had thrown at me that night.

Now, I was really starting to grasp what Leon's so-called "blacklisting" meant.

People who used to greet me with smiles because I was Leon's companion now acted like I was contagious.

My money was gone in no time.

I couldn't afford a hotel, so I rented a dingy basement on the outskirts of the city. One bread a day was all I could afford.

But I refused to stop practicing. My fingers blistered and bled, but I'd pop them, wrap them in bandages, and keep going.

Sometimes, I'd take out the black-and-gold card Leon gave me, the one I forgot to return.

I knew that if I used it, I could escape this damp, gloomy basement and actually treat myself to a decent meal.

But no way. I'd rather starve than rely on him again.

Seven days after leaving Leon, I carried my violin to one of the city's underground walkways.

I picked a corner, opened up my case, and set it right in front of me.

Then I raised my violin, no sheet music, pure improvisation.

Everything I'd been bottling up these days, the frustration, the pain, spilled out all at once, raw and unfiltered.

It wasn't pretty. Honestly, it was kind of harsh. To most people passing by, it probably sounded like I was going crazy.

I had no idea how long I'd been playing when I finally stopped. That was when a few claps came from the corner.

A guy who looked like a rocker walked over, with an excited grin on his face. "Did you write that yourself?"

I shot him a wary look and kept quiet.

"When you switched keys in the third bar, that was wild, painful yet electrifying. That's true music, nothing like all that overproduced junk out there," he said.

His excitement was totally genuine, not an ounce of pretense. I was honestly taken aback.

"I'm Sean Harper. I write music, but the classical crowd, those old-timers, probably have no idea who I am." He reached out his hand.

I hesitated for a second and then shook his hand. "Joanna Rivers."

He paused for a moment, and then his eyes suddenly lit up. "Joanna Rivers? Oh! I remember now. Weren't you involved with Leon..."

My face went pale, and I pulled my hand back.

But Sean waved it off, totally unfazed. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not here for the gossip. I'm only interested in the music."

Then, before I could protest, Sean started packing up my violin case for me and, without giving me a chance to argue, took me by the arm and led me away.

Leon Flores' POV

Meanwhile, I was standing in the music room of my luxury apartment.

The place was spotless again, as if that woman had never even existed there.

My assistant, Thomas, was updating me on Joanna's situation. "Ms. Rivers has been trying out for orchestras, hotels, and some private gigs these past few days, but she's been turned down every time.

"Right now, she's living in a basement out in the suburbs. Her situation is pretty rough. She started busking in an underground walkway yesterday."

"A basement, huh? She really is tough," I said, tapping the piano keys.

Thomas hesitated for a moment and then added, "Yesterday evening, Sean met her in the underground walkway."

I stopped tapping and turned around, my brow furrowing. "That eccentric lunatic?"

Thomas nodded.

I gave a cold chuckle and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down over the city. "She only belongs with people like him. Does she really think clutching at him will help her make a comeback? How naive."

Out of nowhere, the memory of her leaving on that rainy night flashed through my mind. "Keep an eye on her. I want to see how long she can struggle in that mud pit.

"When she can't take it anymore, she'll know exactly who she'll have to beg to come back to."

After Thomas left, I, on impulse, pulled up the secretly recorded video of Joanna playing her violin in the underground walkway.

As soon as the music started, my breath caught in my throat.

This wasn't the Joanna I knew, the one always copying Madeline.

The music was raw, full of struggle and life, so different from the Joanna I remembered.

I stared at her face on the screen, completely entranced, until the screen faded to black.

I loosened my tie, but a sudden, inexplicable panic and sense of losing control crept over me, making me deeply uncomfortable.

Joanna Rivers' POV

I joined Sean's underground band.

Besides Sean and me, there was a bassist and a drummer. Both of them looked like wild kids who'd partied a little too hard, total troublemakers.

But the first time we played together, it clicked.

After I let go of Madeline's bowing and the polished sound Leon always demanded, my violin was more like a shout.

When it blended with the bass and drums, it was pure magic.

When the song ended, everyone was panting, eyes blazing with excitement.

Sean let out a booming laugh. "That's what I'm talking about, Joanna! This is exactly what I wanted."

He said he wanted to smash the old rules of classical music, mix in electronic rock, and create music that was alive, raw, and full of soul.

And my role was to take the most classical instrument, the violin, and make it scream with something wild, something totally unexpected.

Our band's first gig was set for a small underground club.

I threw on the same black sleeveless top and cargo pants as Sean and the others, and smeared wild graffiti-style paint across my face.

Once the show kicked off, my violin broke free from all restraints.

It wasn't a mimic to Madeline anymore, and didn't belong to Leon. It belonged to Joanna, who was howling on stage.

The crowd exploded with applause and whistles. Sean slung his arm around my neck, and we exchanged a grin, riding the rush together.

In the backstage, I was chugging a bottle of water when I heard a voice behind me. "Joanna."