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My life finally had harmony. I was a respected indie artist, building a beautiful future with Liam, the kind, steady man who' d helped me pick up the pieces. Then, a ghost from my past went viral: a grainy college video of me and my ex-boyfriend, Ethan Carter, pop royalty now, promising "Maythan Forever." Suddenly, my phone blew up, and his name flashed across the screen. He was back. The internet was demanding a reunion, but I remembered the sting: how Ethan, three years ago, shattered me, calling me "average" as he left me for his new pop-star girlfriend, Brittany. I watched him publicly dismiss our shared history on national TV, only to have Brittany confront me, accusing me of playing games. Then, she brazenly performed my stolen song on live television, a song Ethan had handed her years ago to sabotage my career, ripping open all the old wounds. How could he, after all he' d done, act so clueless, so entitled? And why did it feel like my every step forward was met with a new attempt to drag me back into their drama, to prove I was still just "average"? It wasn't just about music anymore; it was about reclaiming my truth. I knew then: I wouldn't just survive this digital onslaught. I'd stand on that stage, in front of the world, and sing my story, not just for myself, but for every dream they tried to steal. This time, I' d reclaim what was mine, with the full force of my voice.