"Oh God." Selene groaned as she opened her eyes, once again in a hospital room.

What-" the words caught in her throat as saw who sat next to her.

Ronan Blackwood was sitting there, leaning back in a chair beside the bed. His pose was composed, calm and controlled, the calm that might be frightening. He was smartly dressed, clean, and slightly scented with cologne. His eyes were fixed, and he stared at her, and Selene felt, as she had not felt in months, a kind of recognition, not fear.

Ronan Blackwood bent a little, and put both his hands on his knees. Selene, he said in a low voice, his voice was measured. "You're awake."

Selene attempted to move, attempted to push herself up, but her weakness pulled her down at once. "Wh... why..." Her voice was sharp and jagged, as metal rubbing metal together. The words were hardly discernible.

Ronan Blackwood held up a hand. "Relax. You're safe. I came to see you."

Selene's eyes widened. She remembered him. Her husband's best friend. The individual who never appeared to be reachable, not besmirched by the lies, the betrayals. And now he was there--composed, in her hospital room. 

"Not fine I Never... had drugs... police... lied..." Her ravaged voice broke once more. She gulped, attempting to force the words down her throat, though they did not seem to come out as words at all, but as a scratching motor.

Ronan Blackwood's gaze softened. "I know," he said firmly. "I know you didn't carry drugs. I know you were framed. I have been following it since the day it occurred. They have put those drugs in your car. They set you up."

At his words Selene turned her stomach. "Who... did it?" whimpered she, the rasp scarcely intelligible. "Why...?"

Ronan Blackwood sat back a little, examining her. "That is what I have come to tell you, and in the first place I am going to give you something. An opportunity. A chance to get your life back."

The eyes of Selene were flickering with doubt and desire. "Opportunity? What... what do you mean? she managed to rasp.

Ronan Blackwood exhaled slowly. "I can get you out of jail, Selene. You don't have to stay there. You do not need to suffer any more. He stood still and looked at her. "I possess sufficient influence and funds to make it happen. You'll be free. One word from me, and all these gaurds would open those prison doors and escort you out."

Selene sighed and shook her head. "Free? After everything? Years of mistreatment, months of being deprived of her life , months of the agony of being confined in that institution and  tortured there? Could it really be possible?"

He went on, speaking in a calm and firm voice. "You will not only be free but you will have a new life. You will be a different person, different documents and nobody will be aware of your history. Your countenance will be rebuilt. The harm of the past, all that had made you feel inferior to yourself, can be repaired. Your voice... I'll get the best specialists. You will be able to talk and sing once more."

Selene's hand shook on the bed. The cuff was biting into her wrist as she pushed it down. "Face... voice..." she rasped. The idea was nearly too many to think. Her chest tightened. She had a desire to weep, but the tears could not come easily. They were caught, as was her broken voice, in pain and fear.

Ronan Blackwood shook his head, feeling her indecision. And, he said to himself, you will avenge.

Her head lifted slightly. Her heart beat in her breast. "Revenge?" she mumbled , with her broken voice shaking.

"Yes," Ronan Blackwood said. "Your husband, and your best friend they both cheated you. They gave evidence against you in court. They framed you. They destroyed your life. And I can help you fix it."

Selene shut his eyes, and attempted to believe him. Her throat was on fire and she rasped, "Why... you?" 

Ronan Blackwood smiled a little and his eyes remained alert. "I know both of them well, that is why. I was still faking that I was the friend of Garrick Thorne. I made him believe that I was on his side. But the truth is... I have been waiting to have the right time to ensure he is made to pay with what he has done."

Selene's mind spun. She desired to put ask  questions, so many questions, but her throat would not cooperate. Every word was broken, rough, painful. Rather, she gazed at him and his words sunk in.

Ronan Blackwood leaned back slightly. "I am giving you this not because I feel sorry about you, not because I think you are the one who needs to be pitied, but because you are the only one who can stop them. You have talent. You have skill. You have the drive. And you can bring them down with my aid, get all they took away out of you, and get your life back together again. You can make them pay for what they did to you."

Selene's heart raced. Free. A new identity. Her face fixed. Her voice repaired. Revenge. Everything she had desired for years, all the things she had envisioned when she sat in that prison cell, when she was called 1165, when she was beaten, humiliated, and broken--could come to pass.

Ronan Blackwood stood by her, watching her, and his face was composed, but resolute. "I understand it is a lot to digest, Selene," he  said. "But I need your answer. Will you do this? Will you risk your life,  to reclaim your life and have justice?"

Selene got out of the jail van slowly, with her hands cuffed in front of her, and her head down. The commotion at the main gate, the screaming guards, the screaming prisoners, the banging metal doors--was in her favor. She was pushed to the side door by a guard, feigning a trip and ran the final few feet into the black SUV that was waiting. Ronan Blackwood was driving, and his face was calm as all that had happened was all a part of his plan, to get Selene out whilst making it seem like she escaped from jail. 

"You made it," he said.

"I... I can not believe that it worked," Selene whispered, trying her voice. Strong, unbroken now it was clear. "I'm... free?"

"You are," Ronan Blackwood said. "New identity, new face, new life. But you'll always be Selene but not that Selene. Don't forget that. You enter the world again tonight, you and we start."

Selene's stomach tightened. "I... I don't know if I can do this. I mean it's one thing saying yes on the hospital bed, and one thing actually doing it."

"You can. You have to, because I have already put a lot of my money into this, and you can't turn back now. Dinner at Garrick Thorne's will be your first meeting with him, it's taking place once your new face heals. He has no idea you're alive. Liora Voss doesn't know either. It is your task to play the role of my girlfriend, a fan of Liora Voss. Keep your cool. Observe, learn, remember."

Selene took a shaky breath. Observe, learn, remember... "I can do it, I can do it," she said to herself and each day, she made sure that was her motto.

Months later after the surgery, Selene was in a bedroom of Ronan Blackwood, fiddling with the black dress which he had prepared. She touched her face gently. Smooth, unfamiliar, perfect.

"I... I do not feel like myself, yet, she said to herself.

"Yes, you will," Ronan Blackwood said, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Tonight, you play your part. Courteous, attentive, animated. Ask questions. Laugh at the right moments. Keep Garrick Thorne distracted. Be a fanatic of Liora Voss's music."

Her chest tightened. Quiet. Observe. Learn... Every detail counts. She clenched her fists. All words, all smiles, all glances, they will all be mine to recall.

"I'm ready," she said softly.

At Garrick Thorne's door, Selene froze. The corridors were covered with wedding pictures: Garrick Thorne and Liora Voss, married, happy. Her chest constricted. Ronan Blackwood nudged her lightly.

"Remember, Selene," he whispered. "Polite. Friendly. A fan. Nothing more. Keep him off guard."

Selene nodded. A fan... just a fan.

Liora Voss opened the door and her smiling face illuminated the room. "Hi! Ronan Blackwood! And you must be...?"

Ronan Blackwood said with ease, "This is my girlfriend, Selene. Selene, this is Garrick Thorne, my best friend and Liora Voss, is his wife." 

Selene reached out, making an obligatory smile. "Nice to meet you, Liora Voss. I'm a huge fan of your music. I'm really honored to meet you." 

Liora Voss's eyes sparkled. "Really? That's so sweet! You like my songs?"

"Absolutely! I have heard each one of them. Well, it is wonderful to see you in person, Liora Voss." Selene lied. 

Garrick Thorne looked up and held a glass of wine. His eyes were slightly opened, and a flash of recognition came over his face. "Selene?" 

Selene froze. She smiled a little, and in a controlled manner. "Selene", she said, light-heartedly, trying to conceal the sudden hate and disgust that came over her seeing that look in his eyes and hearing him mention her name. Keep the act... calm... observe.

Garrick Thorne scowled, shock all over  his face. "I'm sorry ... I... I had someone  called Selene. She... she vanished. You remind me of her..."

The tension was broken by Ronan Blackwood coughing. "Are we playing FbI or eating?" 

Garrick Thorne looked at Ronan Blackwood, who was still looking at the face of Selene, and nodded his head. "Something is not right, I cannot put it into place..." he mumbled under his breath.

"Let's go eat." He said finally.

Dinner began, wine poured, low music in the background. Selene politely laughed at Garrick Thorne and nodded at Liora Voss and all the time observed rhem.

"So, Selene," Liora Voss said after a little, leaning forward, and her eyes flushed with excitement, "how did you become such a fan?"

"Oh, I simply... have just learned about your music a few years ago after you opened the tour for Kaelara Storm," Selene said. "It's incredible. I can't get enough of it."

Liora Voss's smile widened. "Thank you! That means so much. These were some of the songs that it took months to master." 

Selene felt her chest tighten. "Months you worked? Every word, every melody, was mine..." Selene said in her head.

"I even got some snippets from my new album," Liora Voss said, and took out her phone. "Want to hear? It's just a sneak peek."

"Absolutely!" Selene bent over, pretending to be excited. "I'd love that."

The first song played. Selene froze. All her lyrics, all her melodies, her songs, stolen and possessed by Liora Voss.

"Oh, wow," she said to herself, trying to smile. "This is... incredible."

Liora Voss beamed. "Right? I poured my soul into this one. It's raw, don't you think?"

Raw? My raw. Stolen. Every note mine. Selene was clenching her hands together. Stay calm. Observe. Plan.

Ronan Blackwood saw that she was tense, but he made no comment, and gently squeezed her thigh under the table. .

Dinner continued. Selene maintained her light tone, laughed at the jokes of Liora Voss, asked polite questions, and pretended to be impressed. 

But all the words, all the melodies of the songs being purported to belong to Liora Voss, smoldered within her. She remembered all the movements, all the glances Garrick Thorne gave, all the details that she could apply in future.

Garrick Thorne looked at her every now and then, and was still faintly disturbed by her features. "You are... you are reminding me of someone I was once acquainted with... " he said to Selene.

The lips of Selene curled in a gracious smile. "Yes, Garrick Thorne. You know me. You just don't realize it yet." Was what she wanted to say, but she just smiled at him.

Dinner finally over, Ronan Blackwood rose and gave Selene his arm. She took it and bade farewell to the couple . She was burning rage, sharp and focused. Every move is part of the plan.

Ronan Blackwood looked at her, even and constant, and questioned when they had got in the car.

"What's your plan for her album?"

Selene's POV

"When we get home." Came my reply.

The ride  back home  was silent.

One hand of Ronan was on the steering wheel and the other was lying at ease in a position close to the gear shift. The car windows were flashing with the city lights passing by and then becoming invisible in the darkness again. I was sitting in the passenger seat, and I was trying to contain the storm that was in my chest, staring ahead.

My hands were yet trembling.

It was still possible to hear Liora playing her songs.

Her voice singing my songs.

Every word. Every melody. All the lines that I had written by myself in my little apartment years ago when I thought that the world was still fair. She had claimed that she had put her heart into them. I gulp and clenched my hands. Ronan looked at me a moment and got back to the road.

"You're quiet," he said.

I let out a small breath. "I am attempting not to smash something."

He smiled a little like he knew just what I was talking about.

"Feel free to smash anything." He smiled.

Nevertheless, I managed to laugh a little. It came out bitter.

"She's using my songs," I said. She even did not change the melodies. It's exactly the same."

"I know," Ronan replied.

His voice was regular, as usual.

I glanced back and stared at him. "You knew?"

"I suspected," he said. "But tonight confirmed it."

I reclined in the seat and shut my eyes. The picture of Liora with a proud smile playing the preview of her album was burning in my mind. My songs. My work. My life. All stolen.

Upon arrival at the house, our car was parked in the driveway by Ronan who switched the engine off. The silence of the vehicle was oppressive following the prolonged silence throughout the ride.

"We don't act yet," Ronan said.

I looked at him again. "Why not?"

Since any accusation will not ruin her, he explained. "Not yet. We must have evidence such that no man can deny.

I stared at him. Evidence. One idea gradually came to my thoughts. Something from years ago. I had nearly forgotten about something.

I climbed out of the car and walked into the house without any further words. Ronan was behind me and did not prevent me. He seemed curious. I went straight to the living room where my laptop was lying on the coffee table. I began to feel my heart beat quicker. I sat and activated the computer.

"What are you doing?" Ronan inquired when he entered the room.

I didn't answer immediately. The fingers were already playing on the keyboard.

"I might have something," I said.

The login screen appeared. I hesitated for a second. This account was old. I had not touched it in years.

When I first started to write music, I used to be paranoid that I would lose my work. My laptop had crashed once and I had lost two songs altogether. Then I began storing all of it on the internet. Early recordings.

Lyrics. Draft versions of songs. Every demo I ever made. I had a small cloud storage account of which nobody was aware. At least, I hoped no one knew. I typed the email slowly. Then the password. Nothing happened awhile. Then the page loaded. My chest tightened.

It worked.

"I'm in," I whispered.

Ronan stepped up and stood behind the couch and looked at the screen.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Old demos," I said quietly. "Recordings from years ago. Until Liora put anything out before her.

I opened the first folder.

Inside were dozens of files. Each one had a date. My hands began trembling once again. I clicked one of them. There was a silence a moment. Then the recording started. My voice was filling the room. Unrefined. Unpolished. Younger. But unmistakably mine. I was listening and my throat narrowed.

The recording was simple. Only the voice and a cheap keyboard playing in the background. But the melody was clear. And the lyrics. The very words that Liora had sang at night. I hastily scanned to a different file. Then another. Each one was the same. The original versions of the songs of her album. I clasped my hand over my mouth.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

Ronan bent a little and heard attentively.

These are dated recordings, he said.

"Yes," I replied.

I felt my voice was now weaker, but stronger.

These had been recorded many years earlier than Liora album.

I clicked on the file information, and indicated the display.

"Look at the upload date."

Ronan studied it for a moment.

A creeping smile came to his face.

This was what we wanted, he said.

I sat on the chair and gazed at the laptop. Proof. Not rumors. Not accusations. Real evidence that I had originally written the songs. I might turn Liora in. I would leave these recordings all over. I might ruin her career in a single night. My hands were floating over the keyboard. Then I stopped.Ronan noticed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I shook my head slowly.

"It will be as though I were jealous," I said, "to put it now."

He waited.

"They will believe I am another unrecognized singer who is out to victimize a star," I thought. "They will claim that the tapes are counterfeit. Or that I copied her."

Ronan nodded slowly.

"That's possible," he admitted.

I shifted forward once again and opened a new browser screen.

I must have them find out by themselves, I said.

Ronan crossed his arms.

"And how do you plan to do that?"

I entered the address of a web site.

A popular music discussion board.

It had a reputation of revealing scandals in the industry. There was a tendency whereby information was leaked by anonymous users before the media got it. I opened a temporary account. I uploaded one of the demo recordings then. The file was transferred slowly filling in the progress bar. Ronan watched silently.

I smiled faintly.

"I'm not posting it yet," I said.

I have opened the scheduling option. Then I set the date. It was in the morning of the big album promotion of Liora. The day she would be making interviews and playing her new songs. At the time the world would be listening.

"When it is live," I said, "everyone will be talking about her album." 

Ronan nodded slowly. "Smart, then all at once the internet finds the original demo," he said.

"Exactly."

I completed the time of posting and checked the time. Everything was set. One click was all that would be needed. I closed the laptop gradually and went back. My heart was pounding. The revenge was in good earnest. Ronan looked at me carefully.

"You handled that well," he said.

I have thought of revenge years, I said to myself.

I got myself out of the couch and stretched my rigid arms. Now the room seemed painfully quiet. My anger had become focused, something to do, as it had never been before since dinner. Something controlled. However, my phone sounded on the table then. I picked it up automatically. A message was displayed on the screen. My stomach dropped. I stared at it.

"What is it?" Ronan asked.

I didn't answer immediately. My hands were suddenly cold. I turned the phone slowly towards him.

Somebody came to the file, I said.

Ronan frowned.

"What file?"

"The demo."

He looked confused.

"But you didn't post it yet."

"I know," I whispered.

The message itself was still blinking on the screen. Someone viewed your file. I began to beat my heart faster.

"That's impossible," Ronan said.

I shook my head slowly.

It could only happen in one way, I said.

Ronan's expression hardened.

The account is shared with another person.

I stared at the phone screen. It was the first account that I opened this evening. I had not shared the link. I had not posted the file. But somebody had already been able to see it. Which meant one thing. I was not the only one in the account any longer.