“No… that can’t be true!” My mother stared at me, stunned. “You didn’t blow our emergency credit card on a ticket for that ridiculous band!”

4 Nipes could be whatever she thought they were, and I respected her opinion. But they were the one thing in the world that was mine, the one thing that pulled me out of the Cinderella life I was stuck in. Not the part where she marries the prince and becomes a princess, but the part where she slaved away all day, lived in an attic, and her only friends were mice. God help me if Simone ever heard I compared her to a mouse—she’d tear me to pieces.

Rarlat started crying. At first, it was a soft whimper, but it quickly turned into wails as she pointed an accusing finger at me. “You’re a horrible person, Manu. You only think about yourself! Mom pulled you out of that orphanage, gave you a life, a family… and this is how you repay her? With ingratitude?”

Ingratitude? I did everything for them. I kept the house running, cooked their meals, washed their dishes, did their laundry—and they had the nerve to call me ungrateful? I wanted to scream everything I felt, but the words wouldn’t come. It was like I was doomed to be eternally grateful just because Irene Romanova adopted me when my birth mother gave me up. And life, in its cruel irony, made sure my adoptive mother rejected me too.

In the end, I had nothing and no one but them—my mother and my sisters. No reason to stay, no reason to leave. My life was a tightrope walk between a chasm and nothingness. Standing on the edge of that cliff was the closest thing I had to safety.

“Don’t cry, Rarlat,” Carly said, moving to our younger sister’s side and wrapping her in a hug. She shot me a look like I was some kind of monster.

Was I a monster for spending my money on a concert ticket instead of throwing Rarlat a graduation party? She’d worked hard, sure, and was about to get her high school diploma. But was it so wrong for me to want something for myself?

“I…” I tried to explain, but I didn’t know how.

“I wasn’t going to say anything because it was supposed to be a surprise,” Carly said, still comforting Rarlat, “but I got a job at the Hotel Bali. And not as a maid.” She threw me a smug glance. “I’ll be a receptionist—because I’m way smarter than you.”

“Carly, that’s amazing!” Mom pulled her into a hug, and the three of them stood there, celebrating, a tight little circle of joy, while I watched from the second step of the staircase.

I wanted to congratulate Carly, to be part of that moment. But I knew they’d shut me out.

“Maybe… you could help with Rarlat’s party now that you’ve got a job,” I suggested.

The three of them turned to me, incredulous.

“You think I’d let Carly spend her money on that?” Mom snapped. “My daughter needs to invest in herself. Don’t you see how much potential she has? Carly’s beautiful, smart! Even your own fiancé chose her. I’d never let my real daughter waste her money on anything but herself.”

That stung. But it wasn’t worse than other things they’d said to me before.

“I’m not stupid,” I said. “I didn’t finish school because I had to work.”

“It’s the least you could do for us, Manu,” Mom said. “Or do you think keeping this house running is some kind of favor? If I hadn’t taken you from that hospital, you’d be a nobody, raised in an orphanage. You know the chances of a kid getting adopted after three years old drop by, like, seventy percent.”

“But… maybe if you and Dad hadn’t adopted me, another family would have.”

Mom laughed, a sharp, cutting sound. “Don’t be ridiculous. You were lucky to get the Romanova name.”

“I paid for both of their schools,” I said, glancing at Carly and Rarlat. “So I’ve done my part.”

“We gave you a family, Manu,” Mom insisted. “That’s priceless.”

“It’s no use explaining, Mom,” Carly said. “Manu will always be ungrateful.”

“So… I’m still supposed to cover all the household expenses, even though Carly’s got a job now?”

“Carly needs new clothes,” Mom said, eyeing my sister’s lips. “Everything she has is practically rags. And I’m thinking a lip filler might be a good move. Maybe it’s time she went all-in on a modeling career.”

“I need work clothes too,” Carly added. “My makeup’s all used up, and I don’t have anything decent.”

“Absolutely,” Rarlat chimed in, nodding at her sister. “Carly, you’re our ticket to the big leagues. You’re so gorgeous and smart! With your receptionist money, you can invest in your career and become a famous model.”

“Or snag a rich guy,” Mom said, her eyes lighting up with hope. “Not waste your time dreaming about some loser from a rock band.”

“Pop rock,” I corrected.

“It’s all the same crap!” Mom snapped. “You really think one of those band guys is gonna notice you, Manu? I get that dreaming keeps you going, but your dreams are too big. And when you fall, it’s gonna break you in half.”

Maybe I did dream too big. But going to the concert wasn’t about getting noticed by Fred Hunt in a sea of fans. It was about being there, soaking in the songs I’d sung through the worst moments of my life. Those lyrics kept me standing. Sometimes, I pretended one of their songs was written just for me.

A breaking news alert on the TV cut our argument short. The local news anchor announced that 4 Nipes tickets had sold out in under twelve hours. I’d been lucky to snag one. Then he dropped a bombshell: one ticket holder would be randomly selected to win a backstage pass to meet the band after the show.

My heart raced, and I wanted to scream. Could life, just once in my twenty years, hand me a win? Was it finally time for the prince to find my glass slipper—or my golden ticket?

“I’ll give up my graduation party,” Rarlat said, fixing her teary eyes on me, “if you give me your ticket.”

I laughed, unable to believe it. For the first time in my life, I’d done something for myself, not them. And now they wanted to take the one thing that made me happy—Fred and 4 Nipes?

“That’s fair,” Carly said with a mocking grin. “You broke our little sister’s heart by refusing to pay for her party. The least you can do is let her go to the concert.”

“You don’t actually think you’ll be the one picked for backstage, do you?” Mom said, staring at me. “But if Rarlat has the ticket, she might have a shot.”

“Everyone knows you’re cursed with bad luck,” Carly sneered, piling on the humiliation. “Dumped by your own mother at the hospital. I mean, come on, not even she wanted you! Do something good for once, Manu—give the ticket to our little sister and let her have a shot at getting backstage with 4 Nipes.”

“Let’s be real,” Mom added, her voice sharp. “Rarlat’s beautiful, just like Carly. They take after me, and that’s undeniable. The Romanova beauty is in the blood, Manu. You might carry our name, but you don’t have our genes. If you got picked for backstage, it’d be a waste. They wouldn’t give you a second glance. But if Rarlat or Carly were there? They’d turn heads. They could walk out of that dressing room engaged to a band member! That would change our lives forever. And, of course, we wouldn’t leave you behind.”

“Oh, sure,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Someone’s gotta carry the bags to the plane, right?”

“God, you’re so ungrateful!” Carly threw her arms up. “I’m done, Mom.”

“Do whatever you want,” I said, my voice steady despite the sting. “But I’m not giving up my ticket. I don’t care if I don’t get picked for backstage, or if no one talks to me or even notices I’m there. I’ll be at that concert, and I’ll see Fred Hunt, like I’ve dreamed my whole life.”

With that, I climbed the stairs, the weight of their words and my own pain pressing down on me. I took a shower, collapsed onto my bed, and swallowed a heavy-duty sleeping pill. I knew they’d soon bang on my door, demanding I cook dinner, clean the house, or give up my ticket. So I let myself slip into oblivion, desperate to protect the one thing I had—the chance to see my idol. My ticket was the cheapest kind, for a seat so far back I’d be a speck in the crowd to Fred, just like I’d always been to the world.

The next morning, my alarm jolted me awake, and I sprang out of bed, heart racing from the fear that the pill had made me oversleep. My eyes landed on Fred Hunt’s poster, his light blue eyes so vivid they looked more like a painting than reality. “God, keep this man safe,” I whispered, “and let us meet again today. He’s closer to me now than ever before.”

It was the day 4 Nipes would arrive in the neighboring city for their big show. I’d followed their journey and knew they were coming straight from Moscow to this small corner of South Noriah. They’d land at the international airport and roll into town on their beloved tour bus, heading to a five-star hotel.

Part of me wanted to ditch everything and camp out in front of that hotel, like the fans who’d been there since yesterday, just to catch a glimpse of them, maybe even a distant wave through their wall of security guards.

Instead, I went to work. I was finishing up a room, spritzing air freshener, when the door swung open and Dominic appeared.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. “Can I help you?” I asked politely.

“You know what I want,” he said with a mocking grin. “Same as always.”

“Please, Dominic, let me do my job. I’ve got two more rooms to clean, and I promised Simone I’d help with the main lobby bathroom.”

“You know I could fire you, right?” he said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me like a hawk.