12. The Eternal Fire of Hell

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"So how have you two been?" Celia asks.

"Peachy," I reply, deadpan.

Celia presses her lips together and bows her head, her thick eyebrows arching outwards. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she feels guilty. But she crossed that word off her dictionary when she sold her soul to be the devil.

Nessa nudges my elbow and gives me a quick scolding look before shifting her gaze back to Celia. "We're good. How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm good," Celia answers with a seemingly nervous nod and an equally anxious smile, causing suspicion to rear up in me.

Celia's venture into the film industry might have been a flop, but that doesn't mean she's a terrible actress. In fact, she's one of the best actresses I've ever met. That's why I can't help but wonder if her nervousness is just an act to conceal her hidden agenda.

While I'm strongly considering throwing my career out the window by refusing to produce her new EP, she asks Nessa, "How is your three-legged cat?"

"She's doing great." Nessa forces a smile before lowering her head, her mouth set in a grim line.

The shadow of guilt sweeping across Nessa's face replaces my curiosity with concern. The mention of Kiki must've brought back thousands of awful memories to her, and more importantly, her guilt.

Nessa never hates Celia for writing that damn break-up song that almost ruined her life. She never hates me for taking part in that stupid TweetyGram war and inadvertently pushing Celia to write that damn break-up song either. Instead, she always hates herself for breaking Celia and me apart.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to go to the restroom for a while." Nessa springs to her feet, her hands clutching her purse in a death grip. "You two should catch up."

"Ness—"

I jump out of my seat and catch her wrist. But the faint reassuring smile she offers me and the quiet resolution in her eyes tell me she needs some time alone. Respecting her wish, I let her go. As I watch Nessa drag her feet toward the restroom, TJ swaggers toward Celia and me from across the room.

"Well, well, well," TJ says, doing a slow clap. "If it isn't the wicked witch of the west."

Celia lowers her gaze. "Theodore."

"You have some nerves showing up at my house after what you did." TJ stops beside me with crossed arms, his eyes glued on Celia. The hostility in his voice becomes clearer when he continues, "My wife might've welcomed you here with closed arms out of respect for Helen, but you're a fool if you think I'd do the same after what you did."

TJ always blames Celia for what her deranged fans did to Nessa, but I never do. I hate her for throwing those crazy accusations at Nessa and me. I hate her for starting that absurd TweetyGram war. And I hate her for writing the song that ruined Nessa's life. But I never blame her for what happened to my best friend.

I blame myself.

As Celia's face twists in something that resembles guilt, a sliver of pity rolls through me.

"Teej, can you give us a minute?" I ask, my voice soft but stern.

TJ furrows his brow at me. "Ol—"

"Please?"

He clenches his jaw, his mouth forming a straight line. After a while, he huffs. "Fine. But I'm watching you." Pursing his lips together, he points two fingers at his eyes before turning them toward Celia.

TJ's ludicrous gesture draws a chuckle from me, but it's not long before uneasiness twists my stomach. Murmurs begin to fill the vast room, and people start stealing glances at us—just like old times.

I stand up. "Can we talk in private?"

"Of course," Celia answers, her voice soft.

A sense of familiarity hits me as Celia and I head to the backyard. Everyone's eyes are on us. Everyone wants to know what we're talking about. And all I want is to get the hell out of this room.

Unlike Celia, I've always hated the spotlight—and that was the first thing that broke us up.

The spacious backyard is dimmed and quiet, a stark contrast to the liveliness inside the house. All the curtains are closed, and the only things illuminating this place are soft lights from the vintage lamps perched on the wall and above the pool edges. The strong smell of chlorine lingers in the air as I stop before the large pool.

I stare at my reflection on the water and wait for the cricket's chirpings to calm me down before I turn to face Celia. "So, wanna tell me what you're doing here?"

"As Helen said, I want to work together with you and Vanessa. Like we used to. You two are one of the best in the—"

"Cut the bullshit, Celia. You hate me. You hate Nessa. So what are you really here for? To ruin her life again? Is that it?"

"No, Oliver—"

"Look, if you wanna punish me, then punish me. I deserve it. I made those choices, not her." I swallow as Smaug flaps his wings inside my chest. A pleading note softens my voice when I continue, "Leave Nessa out of this."

Celia releases a sad laugh, a sense of longing radiating from her eyes. "You still haven't changed, have you? Always so protective of her."

If this conversation happened two years ago, I would've fallen for her trick. But now I know better than to let her guilt-tripping me. "She's my best friend. Best friends protect each other."

Celia bites her inner lip and swallows. "Oliver, I don't hate Vanessa. Vanessa and I used to be friends, remember?"

Before fame got to her head, Celia was indeed friends with Nessa. Yet when I remember the day she told me to stop being friends with Nessa, I can't help but remain skeptical.

"Remind me again, was that before or after you said she was not right for our circle?"

Celia averts her gaze and presses her lips together. "I'm truly sorry for how I treated her, and more importantly, for what happened to her on that Valentine's Day." As the burning-red dragon in my mind flutters his wings, Celia lifts her eyes to meet mine. "I never meant for that to happen. I had no idea my fans would do such a cruel thing to her. Please believe me when I say there's not a single day in my life that I don't regret writing that song."

The recollection of what happened on that cursed Valentine's Day two years ago serves as delicious sustenance to the burning-red dragon inside me.

As I struggle to put the dragon back to sleep, Celia continues, "My therapist said I should make amends with the people I've hurt, and to be honest, that's one of the reasons I'm here."

"You went to a therapist?" I arch an eyebrow.

"Yeah." She shuffles on her feet. "It's been quite a tough time. I'm not sure if you've heard, but that scandal ruined my career."

Scandal? What scandal?

Honestly, sometimes I wonder how she's doing after she ruined my best friend's life. No, not because I still care about her, but because I want to know if she's already paid the price. But since I don't want her to write another song about me, I keep my mouth shut.

For now.

"Now my reputation is tarnished, a lot of my fans hate me, and my last album sales weren't as expected." Celia heaves a sigh, and for the first time since I met her, she slumps her shoulders. "My old label dropped me, Oliver. No big-named record company wants to sign a problematic has-been like me. Helen is the only one who's kind enough to give me a second chance."

Suspicion stirs in my gut.

Helen Camden might be the kindest boss anyone can ever dream of. But unlike her gambling-addict father, she's an astute businesswoman. Hiring a scandalous artist might damage the company's reputation, and it's unlike Helen to take such a huge risk.

Why did Helen agree to sign Celia to Camden Records?

"Do you remember the first song we worked together on?" Celia asks. "Yesterday's Story?"

"How could I not?" The corner of my lips tugs up into a small smile.

Yesterday's Story was the first song that the three of us worked together on. Nessa spent most of her time fangirling over Celia during our brainstorming session, but to be honest, seeing her embarrassing herself was the best part.

"I wouldn't have been able to score my first record deal if it wasn't for you. Every one of my songs, you made them good. You made them more than just good. You made each of them a masterpiece. But now, I'm lost. I haven't been able to write a single good song after that song, and I truly need your help. I know I don't deserve it after what I did, but frankly, I have no one else to turn to."

I study her face, trying to figure out if she's lying to me, but the darkness prevents me from seeing clearly.

"I chose Vanessa because she's—was my fan," Celia continues. "She knows how my fans think, what my fans like, so I thought she'd be the best person to help rebuild my image."

"That's ironic."

"I know. I also know her career has been going around in circles because of what happened. Because of what I did. But I'm trying to make things right by giving her the chance she deserves."

Being branded as a boyfriend stealer has been a huge obstacle in Nessa's career. No big-named musician wants to be associated with someone deemed as an untalented whore by one million people. But if this goes well, Nessa may finally have the chance to reach her dream of being a record producer. Yeah. How come I didn't think of that?

"So what do you say?" Celia asks.

I ponder the question for a moment. "It's just—what would your fans do if they find out she's involved with you again? And the paparazzi?" I grit my teeth and shake my head. "They'll crush her. They almost stoned her to death once, Celia. I can't let her go through all that again."

My argument renders her speechless. We stand there in a suffocating silence until the sound of the door creaking open grabs our attention.

Nessa walks out of the house with a nervous grin. "Hey, I've been searching for you everywhere. Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, not at all," Celia replies.

"So, what did I miss?" Nessa stops before us and rubs her palms against each other

"We were just catching up," Celia answers.

"Oh." Nessa's lips twitch as she lowers her eyes. "That's perfect."

A strange spark of glee lights up my heart when I detect a note of jealousy in Nessa's voice. This is getting ridiculous. Why am I—

"Have you chosen the lead single yet?" Nessa asks.

"No. I haven't." A mixture of guilt and hope fills Celia's voice when she asks, "Vanessa, are you okay with doing this? Working with me after . . ."

"Yeah, of course. I told you, it wasn't your fault." Nessa glances at me and adds with a soothing voice, "It wasn't anyone's fault."

I know Nessa is trying to console me, but the warmth in her gaze serves as a delicious treat to the dragon chopping me to pieces and eating me alive. Pain squeezes my insides, and I drop my gaze to the ground.

"Don't worry about it. What happened was just . . ." Nessa shrugs and exhales a deep breath. "Bad luck."

"Thank you." Celia leans forward to hug Nessa. "I can't wait to start working with you."

Nessa gives Celia a tiny, reluctant pat on the back. "Yeah. Me too."

"Hey, let's take a picture." Celia pulls her phone out of her purse and gets ready to snap a picture with Nessa. Shifting her gaze to me, she invites, "Oliver?"

I open my mouth, about to ask them to reconsider their decisions. Yet the sparks of optimism in Nessa's eyes wipe away my worries.

At that moment, I realize this is the chance for me to redeem myself. This is the chance for me to make things right for Nessa.

So, I make my decision.

I'm going to jump back into the abyss, and I can only hope I don't get burned by the eternal fire of hell.

Author's Note:

So, the drama (and more chaos, of course) is about to come! xD Thoughts about this chapter?

Well, as always, if you enjoyed this chapter, please show some support by voting and/or leaving comments. Thanks for reading! :)


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