I was the ghost singer for Ethan Cole, the hottest rising star in the music industry.

My voice built a world for my girlfriend, Jenna.

But she teamed up with Ethan, got me drunk, tried to wreck my vocal cords.

Later, when I finally shone on stage myself, she was left crying in regret.

1

It was just past midnight, New Year's Eve. I’d just finished the last song backstage at the big televised concert.

On stage, soaking up the applause, was Ethan Cole, the music industry's golden boy.

But none of the audience knew that behind all his performances, it was my voice they were hearing.

He was my paycheck, and I was just his shadow.

I needed the money, needed it to give my girlfriend, Jenna, a better life.

The winter night air cut like a knife. As I stepped out of the venue's side door, snow began to fall.

A single, lonely snowflake drifted down. I imagined how cold it would feel landing on my palm.

I wondered what Jenna was doing. Was she waiting at home like usual, ready for us to ring in the New Year together?

Suddenly, Ethan's sleek car pulled out from a private exit, stopping not far from me.

Just as I was about to wave, a familiar figure slipped out of the side door and slid into the passenger seat in a flash.

I rubbed my eyes. That silhouette… it looked so much like Jenna.

While I stood there, stunned, the car drove past me. Ethan rolled down his window.

He gave me a nod, a playful, almost mocking smirk on his face.

For some reason, Ethan never really seemed to like me, even though I poured my heart and soul into singing for him.

But this time, through the window, I got a clear view of the woman in the passenger seat’s profile.

The pale moonlight hit her face – the high brow bone, the slight curve of her eyes… every detail was agonizingly familiar.

It was Jenna.

She didn't see me. She was too busy laughing and chatting intimately with Ethan.

In that instant, my heart plunged into an icy abyss.

That familiar smile, the bashful affection that used to belong only to me…

I pulled out my phone and saw a text Jenna had sent before I went "on stage" tonight.

"Hey, something came up tonight, can't make it for midnight."

This was the first time in seven years Jenna wouldn't be with me for New Year's.

Every single New Year's Eve for seven years, no matter how far apart we were, no matter how busy, Jenna would drop everything and fly to be by my side.

She used to say, "Lovers should be together day after day, year after year. As the new year starts, our love stays true."

That seven-year tradition had made sharing New Year's Eve sacred to me.

But now, she’d broken it with the most casual, indifferent text.

2

The apartment was cold and empty when I got back.

I must have been getting sick. My throat was painfully dry. I tossed and turned in bed.

I sat up, staring blankly out the window, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of sadness.

My gaze fell on the two pillows on the bed. One was mine, and the other… well, that was mine too tonight.

I sat there alone until dawn, unable to reach Jenna.

Her phone just kept ringing, unanswered. On the other end was a mystery I couldn't fathom.

She didn't come home until morning.

Seeing me on the couch, she flinched for a second, then quickly put on a warm smile.

She leaned in close, nuzzling my cheek with her nose affectionately.

The familiar gesture reminded me sharply of her laughing with Ethan in his car.

"Where were you?"

My voice was rough, hoarse after singing all night. I was exhausted.

"Nowhere special. I told you, just hanging out with friends."

She snuggled closer, resting her head on my shoulder as if nothing had happened.

I caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes.

A smell I hated, something I couldn't afford to be around as a singer.

I turned to look at her, searching her eyes for any flicker of panic or guilt.

There was nothing.

My eyes drifted lower. Around her delicate neck was a necklace I’d never seen before.

I recognized the brand. It was way out of our price range.

Sensing my stare, Jenna subtly pulled away.

"Where's the necklace I gave you?"

I knew, instantly, that this new one was far more expensive, far flashier than the one I’d given her.

"Oh, um, I lost it somehow. So, I just bought a new one."

Her voice was soft and pleading, her usual weapon against me.

Had she really lost it?

Then why had I just seen a picture on Ethan’s latest social media post…

of the necklace I gave her… clasped around his pet dog's neck.

The caption read: "Cheap trash like this is only good enough for the dog to play with."

Yeah, compared to the diamond necklace Ethan probably gave her, mine was cheap trash.

But I'd saved up for three months, sung my throat raw, filled with joy anticipating giving it to her.

Back then, I dreamed of slowly upgrading her gifts, getting her prettier, more luxurious things, fueled by my love and this voice.

But before I could make it big, Jenna’s heart had already started to wander.

She started comparing, wanting more, secretly meeting Ethan behind my back.

Maybe in Jenna’s eyes, my gift really was, as Ethan put it: cheap, unworthy.

But my love for her had never been cheap. It had never faltered.

3

Suddenly, I felt utterly drained. I didn't want to dig for the truth anymore.

The night of singing had left my throat raw, and I coughed, trying hard to suppress it, hunching over slightly.

Jenna appeared with a glass of water.

"Drink this, it's good for your throat."

It was sweet, with honey, just like she always made it. But it didn't taste the same anymore.

The sweetness couldn't wash away the bitterness in my heart. I still frowned.

As I put the glass down, Jenna suddenly held out a vinyl record – a rare, limited edition I'd been wanting for ages.

"Like it? Special New Year's gift for you! I waited in line forever to get it."

Her eyes sparkled. She remembered our tradition of exchanging New Year's gifts. How could she remember that, but forget our promises? Forget that the start of the New Year was meant to be shared with the person you loved most, wishing them happiness?

I mumbled my thanks, said I wasn't feeling well, and retreated to my room.

Inside, I placed the record Jenna gave me on the desk.

There were now two identical records lying side by side.

Yes, the other one was a gift Ethan had given out to his crew after the show as a New Year's bonus. Everyone got one.

I suspected the one Jenna gave me was the one Ethan gave her, just last night.

What had she and Ethan really done last night? I couldn't bear to think about it.

A knot of resentment tightened in my chest. I'd willingly become Ethan's shadow for Jenna, and now she and him… they were betraying me together.

Ethan trampled on my dignity, and Jenna trampled on my love.

I grabbed my guitar, strumming aimlessly. The strings let out a dull, heavy sound, like my silent protest.

Lost in thought, I started playing louder, pouring my frustration into the music.

Jenna knocked and opened my door, annoyance clear on her face.

"Can you stop, Ethan? I'm exhausted, I want to sleep."

Jenna looked drained. I wondered what Ethan had put her through to leave her looking so worn out.

Normally, I would have immediately put the guitar away, coaxed her gently to bed.

But now, anger simmered inside me, just needing a spark to explode.

"That's your problem. I need to work right now. I have to sing. How else am I supposed to build a future?"

I didn't say the last part out loud: How else can I keep you?

Truthfully, I'd noticed it for a while. Ever since Jenna met Ethan, they'd gotten closer and closer.

Jenna was beautiful, with a great figure, easily rivaling some of the minor celebs in the industry.

And because of that, I felt her slipping away.

I pushed myself harder, taking more singing gigs, singing until my voice gave out multiple times, using the money to cover Jenna's increasing expenses.

But I was fighting a losing battle. Once Jenna got a taste of the glamorous world, she was hooked. I couldn't satisfy her anymore.

Only a star like Ethan, raking in crazy money, could give Jenna the life she now craved.

I knew saying this was cruel, but I couldn't stop myself. I even started deliberately strumming discordant notes, trying to provoke her. I needed a fight, a release for this pent-up emotion.

"I have to sing! I'll sing myself to death if I have to!"

Jenna stared, shocked. Then, snapping, she rushed in, snatched the guitar from my hands, and smashed it violently on the floor.

"Sing, sing, sing! All these years, and what's it gotten you? Where's the fame?!"

The guitar splintered. And somewhere inside me, a string snapped too.

4

This guitar… Jenna gave it to me on our first anniversary.

I vividly remembered her, young and shy, carefully bringing it out from behind her back.

"Ethan," she'd said, "as long as you keep singing, I'll keep listening. I always want to be your first audience."

She had carved our names intertwined onto it:

Jen & E.

It symbolized sailing through rough seas together, reaching for the stars.

That guitar had been my constant companion ever since.

Whenever my music career stalled, when I wasn't making money, when I even thought about giving up, she would comfort me.

"Ethan, we can take it slow. I don't want you under so much pressure. I don't want you turning your dream into a burden just for money. I don't want your music tainted by greed."

The young Jenna had eyes only for me. She supported my musical dream unconditionally.

But the Jenna standing before me now, her eyes were filled with disdain. She despised my lack of fame, despised my inability to quickly turn music into cash.

But had I really achieved nothing?

Okay, I couldn't compare to Ethan making bank, but over the past seven years, this voice had bought Jenna a car, a spacious apartment.

Her closet was gradually filled with designer labels, luxury goods. She never missed out on the latest bags or jewelry each year.

I had worked hard, using my voice to build a world for her, and now she scorned that world for being too small, too low.

It wasn't that the world was too small; it was her ambition that had inflated, ballooned until she took my sacrifices completely for granted.

After her outburst, Jenna seemed stunned too.

She opened her mouth, wanting to explain, but no words came out.

I shook my head, pulling away from her touch.

The person before me was not the person I knew. We looked at each other, and all that remained was disappointment.

After that, I started leaving early and coming home late, deliberately avoiding Jenna.

Until a few days later, after I finished a recording session for Ethan, just as I was about to leave.

Ethan stopped me. "Come grab dinner with me later."

I instinctively refused. I never liked those industry schmooze-fests.

"Are you sure? Your girlfriend, Jenna, will be there too, you know."

Through his sly gaze, I sensed malice.