Ch-176

♪ So baby pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover ♪

♪ Baby you light up my world like nobody else ♪

♪ I know I can treat you better~~~~better than he can ♪

♪ Welcome to the new age. Woah woah, I'm Radioactive ♪

♪ Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone ♪

Despite being present at Troy's first concert from the very beginning, Scarlett was still in a daze. The concert was turning out to be everything she had hoped for and more. The feeling of singing her favorite songs with a massive crowd, dancing carelessly to the rhythm with no one to judge her, was the most freeing experience she had had in a long time.

♪ Hello, welcome home ♪

Troy finished the song on a high note, and the entire audience erupted in applause at the beautiful vocals he had delivered so effortlessly.

"It's like music is flowing out of him on its own," Scarlett said, turning to Josh while the audience was still cheering. "My agent once suggested I try auditioning for a musical they were trying to get Troy for as well. He declined the offer, but after seeing him live, I don't think I could ever do it. How can anyone compare to a voice like that? People will laugh at me if I sing beside him."

"I feel you," Josh said, wrapping an arm around Scarlett. "I can't sing for shit either."

Before Scarlett could respond, Josh pointed near the stage. "Who's that?"

Scarlett followed his gaze and saw a girl breaking free from security, attempting to get onto the stage. Trying being the keyword here.

"Some people," Scarlett muttered, shaking her head as a security guard grabbed the girl and started escorting her back to her seat. The girl, however, was resilient, thrashing wildly in the man's arms.

"Hey!" Troy's voice rang out over the mic. "Can you please not manhandle my fans?" His tone carried clear disapproval, and the security guard immediately loosened his grip. The girl stopped struggling and turned to Troy as the guard set her back on the floor.

"Please don't try to get up on stage like that again," Troy chided her gently. "While I'd love to meet each and every one of you personally, it's just not possible in a setting like this."

"I had a gift for you! I made it myself!" the girl shouted. Only then did Scarlett notice something on the floor—something the girl had dropped when security intervened.

The girl picked it up and held it high above her head, revealing a white pillow.

"She's gifting him a pillow?" Josh asked, confused.

Scarlett shrugged, also finding the gift strange. But oddly enough, Troy didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked impressed.

"Pass me that, will you?" he said to security.

The girl eagerly handed over the pillow, and Troy took a moment to examine it before turning it around for the crowd to see. Until now, Scarlett had only seen the plain back of the pillowcase. But the front? It was far from ordinary. A highly detailed portrait of Troy was onto the fabric, so lifelike it could have been a photograph. Most likely it was a photograph.

"So she printed a photo of him on a pillowcase?" Josh asked, still confused.

"This is too good," Troy said, addressing the girl before looking out at the audience. "This is a hand-drawn portrait of me, and it's so realistic, it looks like an actual photo. Thank you."

He hugged the pillow to his chest before handing it off to a stagehand. Then, pointing a finger at the man, he added, "I want it back, okay? Don't try to steal it."

The crowd chuckled before Troy grabbed his mic again.

"We're almost done here," the young pop star announced, eliciting shouts of "Nooo!" and "Encore!" from the audience. Rather than responding, Troy simply raised an arm like a general commanding his army—and, just like that, the crowd fell silent.

Troy grinned. "I said almost. Before we end the night and head back to our homes and hotels to rest, I have an announcement to make. By now, someone from my team should have already posted it on my YouTube as well. So here you go: For the next ten or so weeks, every Saturday, I'll be performing a similar show right here at the Galen Center."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the crowd erupted.

"Calm down," Troy said, his grin widening. "I'm not done yet."

Once the audience settled back to a normal level of excited murmuring, he continued, "I'll be taking a break for a few weeks to promote my two upcoming movies, [Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix] and [Little Miss Sunshine], but other than that consider me a part of here for the next few months.."

At the mention of the next Harry Potter film, the crowd buzzed with excitement.

"Be sure to check them out if you have the time," Troy said with an easygoing smile before his expression turned serious. "Now, back to the show. I've already performed all the songs from [Echoes of You]. For the last song of the evening, I wanted to do something new—something no one has ever heard before. Not even my family or friends."

Scarlett gasped, mirroring the reactions of countless fans around her. "Holy shit!" she whispered, turning to Josh, who looked just as thrilled.

"I wrote this song for the beautiful girl who came into my life like a hurricane and upended everything… and yet, with each passing day, I find myself loving her more and more."

Troy turned directly toward where Rihanna was sitting.

"This one's for you, love."

The crowd roared as Troy's team wheeled a grand piano to the center of the stage. Scarlett immediately realized that this must have been planned—at least partially. Otherwise, how would his team have known to set up a piano?

Without wasting any time, Troy sat down, and a mic was placed in front of him.

He didn't start singing right away. Instead, he let his fingers dance over the keys first.

A hush fell over the arena as the first notes filled the air. The anticipation was electric. Whatever song Troy was about to unveil—it had to be something extraordinary.

And then… the melody poured out, weaving magic into the night. His fingers moved effortlessly across the keys, each note carrying a brilliance that left the audience spellbound.

[Golden Hour - JVKE]

♪ It was just two lovers

Sittin' in the car, playin' my guitar

Fallin' for each other

Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish

No one is ne~ar

Missed call from my mother

Like, "Where you at tonight?"

Got no alibi ♪

Troy began singing—or was it rapping? It wasn't exactly rap, but it wasn't traditional singing either. What was this genre? Scarlett couldn't quite place it. The piano melody was beautiful, yet, at first, the song itself didn't seem to match its brilliance.

Or so she thought.

For a very brief moment.

♪ I was all alone with the love of my life

She's got glitter for skin

My radiant beam in the night

I don't need no light to see you

Shiiiiiiiiine

It's your golden hour (Oh-oh-oh)

You slow down time

In your golden hour (Oh-oh-oh) ♪

Scarlett immediately took back every doubt she'd had. This wasn't just good—this was the best song she had ever heard live. Better than any of Troy's previous songs. The seamless blend of semi-rap and soaring falsetto showcased his superior tenor voice in a way that was nothing short of extraordinary. If she had ever entertained the thought of singing beside him, this moment obliterated it. She could never compare. He was just that good.

Scarlett's gaze drifted toward Rihanna, also in the VIP section. She wasn't seated far, just a little away, surrounded by a few teenagers—including Troy's assistant and his brother—but she might as well have been alone. Her eyes never left Troy. The emotion on her face was unmistakable. Having a song dedicated exclusively to her, on a stage this grand, in front of thousands—it was a romantic gesture unlike any other. No wonder she looked overwhelmed.

Scarlett turned to Josh, who was listening with his eyes closed, completely lost in the music. A pang of longing hit her. Was it wrong to wish for someone like Troy in her life? To want someone to look at her the way he looked at Rihanna? That kind of love and devotion couldn't be faked. But the problem was… Josh had never looked at her like that.

The spark she could see between Troy and Rihanna, even from a distance, had long since faded between her and Josh.

Soon enough, the song ended, and the crowd erupted.

Everyone was on their feet, clapping and shouting like their lives depended on it. But Scarlett? She could only sigh. It was foolish to want something she couldn't have. Troy was Troy. Josh was Josh. It was unfair to compare them.

Yet, unbeknownst to her, she wasn't the only one in the crowd thinking that.

Troy's love and devotion for Rihanna had been impossible to miss. Every single girl in the audience had felt it. And in that moment, those who were single longed for someone like him, while those in relationships—whether they admitted it or not—found themselves comparing their partners to him.

(Break)

As soon as I finished the song, I knew the performance had been incredible. The raw emotion in the crowd confirmed it—more than a few people in the front rows were wiping away tears. And as a singer, there was no greater compliment.

But I didn't linger on them for long. There was only one reaction that truly mattered to me.

Rihanna.

She didn't know I hadn't technically written the song myself, but that didn't matter. Given how many times we'd gone on late-night drives together, it made perfect sense to dedicate it to her.

When I finally found her in the crowd, I had my answer.

Tears streaked her face, but she was smiling.

The moment our eyes met, she shot up from her seat and started toward me. Security didn't even attempt to stop her. She practically sprinted onto the stage before throwing her arms around me, pressing her lips to mine. The crowd went wild, cheering loudly at the scene unfolding before them. Her arms wrapped around my back and she pulled me closer to her body, uncaring of the thousands of people who were now shouting at the unfolding scene.

I didn't mind PDA, but this? This was a lot.

Gently, I pulled away from the kiss and wrapped my arms around her instead, rubbing her back as she buried her face in my shoulder.

"Hey," I murmured, making sure to keep her away from the nearby mic. "Please don't cry."

"These are happy tears," she whispered against my ear, her voice thick with emotion. "Don't mind them. Thank you for that song. I loved it. Now go end the show."

I grinned, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back and turning to face the thousands of fans still buzzing with energy.

"That's it for tonight, guys," I announced into the mic. "Thank you for coming. All proceeds from tonight will go to charity to help prevent child sex abuse. If you'd like to make additional donations, there will be volunteers near the exits to assist you. Have a great night ahead."

A wave of disappointed groans rippled through the audience, followed by a few hopeful shouts for an encore. But I had to ignore them.

I was spent.

I hadn't realized just how demanding an entire concert would be. I'd sung plenty of times before—on stage, in Billy Elliot, during film productions—but this? This was different. Theater productions had dialogue breaks, and even the musical numbers were interspersed with choreography and musical numbers of other actors, allowing my voice to recover. But at a concert, it was nonstop. I finally understood why so many singers threw in one or two lip-synced performances in between to rest their vocal cords.

As Rihanna and I walked backstage, hand in hand, she turned to me with a playful pout.

"This was an amazing show," she said. "But I really would've liked to hear that song in private first."

I shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin.

"I just wrote it last night," I admitted. "I couldn't sleep—too anxious about my first concert—so I sat at the piano and started playing around, thinking about you. And this came out. The moment I finished, I knew I had to include it tonight. That's why it was just me—no other instruments. No one else had even heard it before."

"So that wasn't just for the audience?" Rihanna asked curiously.

"Nope," I replied. "I sent the lyrics and sheet music to my lawyer earlier today for copyrighting, but other than that, it was completely unplanned."

I scratched my chin, a sudden idea forming in my mind. It wasn't something I'd considered until this very moment, but now that it had taken root, I knew it was a great one.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, tilting her head. "Why?"

"I was thinking… if you're up for it, we could shoot a video for the song," I offered. "Now that it's out, someone in the audience is bound to leak a recording online. If we plan a proper video by tomorrow, we could release it officially as a single within a week or two."

Rihanna mulled over the idea, her expression unreadable. After a few moments, she shook her head.

"No," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I love the idea, but I legally can't. My contract with the label says I can't appear in any other artist's music video without their permission. They only let me be in [Echoes of You] because it was their idea to begin with."

I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say Jay-Z was good to you? Why not ask him to make an exception?"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head again.

"Let's just… not," she said. "I don't want to feature in a song where I'm not singing. I love that you wrote it for me and told the world how you feel. I don't need to be in the video too."

I studied her, sensing there was more to her reluctance than she was letting on. Lately, she'd been a little cagey about Jay-Z and her label. I hadn't pressed her on it—if she wanted to tell me, she would. I didn't share every business decision I made with her either, so it made sense that she'd keep some things to herself.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

But that was one of the things I admired about Rihanna—her determination to carve her own path. She didn't want success handed to her, even if I wanted to help.

Before I could say anything else, a familiar voice interrupted.

"That was a great show, Troy!"

Benji's excited voice rang out as we stepped backstage. 

But my eyes couldn't help but wander back to the people who were waiting backstage to see me. Some had Super VIP passes—priced at upwards of $2,000—which granted them exclusive backstage access and a chance to meet me. Others had won a lucky draw, plucked from the audience for this supposedly once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Yeah, it was great," Evan nodded beside me. "I loved your new song, especially."

I turned to my brother. "Listen, I want you to start brainstorming ideas for a music video for the song. No rush to shoot it, but be as creative as you can."

His face lit up with excitement. "Consider it done! I already have multiple ideas—how about—"

"Save it for tomorrow morning," I interrupted with a grin. "I've got other people to meet as well."

"Troy!" Mum hugged me next. "That was awesome!"

"It was," Dad agreed. They had flown here just this morning to be a part of my first ever concert.

After a few minutes of greeting friends and family, I turned toward the small group eagerly waiting for me. Among them was the girl who had gifted me that beautiful hand-drawn portrait. She hadn't won the lucky draw—I had personally asked for her to be brought backstage as a thank-you for such an incredible gift.

"Hi," I greeted the group of about fifteen people. "Thank you all for being here."

I stepped forward and hugged the first girl closest to me. The moment we made contact, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Some girls really took it a notch too far.

I pulled back, giving her a closer look. There was something familiar about her, but I couldn't place it at first. Then, recognition hit me like a freight train.

Standing in front of me, wide-eyed and breathless, was none other than the future billionaire queen of pop herself—Taylor Swift.

______________________________________________

AN: Visit my Pat reon to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.

Link: www(dot)pat reon(dot)com/fableweaver