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My name is Ethan Lester. I' m a humble community college music teacher, engaged to Nicole Anderson, a brilliant Silicon Valley CEO. She worships an anonymous DJ, "Aethel," whose music, she says, saved her from deep depression. She doesn't know "Aethel" is me. After our engagement party, I saw a text on her phone, not meant for my eyes. It was from her assistant, Brian: "He' s boring. He' ll never understand you like I do. Like Aethel does." Her reply shattered my world: "I know, my Aethel. I' ll handle him. The festival is all that matters." I followed her to a penthouse where she funded Brian' s music studio and promised him a headline festival spot – my comeback. I registered for the Electric Odyssey festival under my real name, determined to expose the fraud. But backstage, just before my performance, two men grabbed me. Then, they broke my hands. Pain erupted as my bones snapped. My career, my identity, gone in an instant. As my vision blurred, Nicole emerged from the shadows. "Electric Odyssey is for ' Aethel' !" she snarled, her voice cruel. "I' ll destroy anyone who threatens his comeback, including you." She watched me bleed, letting me lie broken on the cold concrete. I woke up in my own bed, gasping, my hands miraculously whole. I grabbed my phone: The date was ten days before the festival. I was back, with the terrifying memory of my murder fresh in my mind, courtesy of my fiancée. This time, I wouldn' t be the one getting destroyed.