He Won an Award With My Song then Cast Me Aside

The spotlight blazed down on Jax like liquid gold, casting him in the kind of ethereal glow that made hearts skip beats across the nation. From my position in the shadows backstage, I watched him cradle the crystal trophy—the Moonlight Music Award for Best Song of the Year.

I was more than proud.

Because he used my song.

The one I'd poured three sleepless nights into, bleeding my soul onto the piano keys as I crafted every note, every lyric, every breath of "Eternal Bond" to celebrate our ten years together.

It was an honor to us both.

The crowd's roar was deafening, a tsunami of adoration that filled me with pride.

This was our moment. The moment when Jax would finally acknowledge what I'd given him, what we'd built together.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the host's voice cut through the chaos, "Jax Arnold of Midnight Howl! Tell us, what inspired this absolutely breathtaking composition?"

My breath caught. This was it. The moment he'd promised me in our penthouse just last week, his hands gentle in my hair as he swore he'd tell the world about his brilliant mate, his secret weapon, his—

"Well, Marcus," Jax's voice carried that trademark smoky rasp that made millions of fans weak in the knees, "I have to give credit where credit's due."

Yes. Finally.

But instead of looking toward the wings where I waited, instead of calling my name, Jax's arm swept out to pull someone else into the spotlight. Sienna Blake materialized beside him like a vision in glittering silver, her sequined mini-dress catching every camera flash as she pressed herself against his side with practiced innocence.

"Sienna isn't just my bandmate," Jax continued, his voice dropping to that intimate tone he used to reserve for me, "she's my muse. Her free spirit, her wild soul—without her, this song would never have existed."

The world tilted sideways.

The audience erupted into screams of "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" and Sienna, that calculating little snake, let herself swoon dramatically into Jax's arms. Her dark eyes found mine through the crowd of crew members and security guards, and the smirk that curved her glossy lips was pure venom. She knew exactly what she'd done.

Something inside my chest cracked. Not my heart—that had been breaking slowly for months as I watched her slither closer to what was mine. This was deeper. This was the sound of ten years of faith shattering like cheap glass.

I stumbled backward, my hands shaking as I gripped the metal railing of the backstage platform. The roar of the crowd became white noise, distant and meaningless. All I could hear was the echo of Jax's words: *Her free spirit. Her wild soul. Without her, this song would never have existed.*

But it had existed. In my apartment at three in the morning, tears streaming down my face as I played the melody that captured everything I felt for him. In the demos I'd recorded on my phone, humming harmonies while I cooked