He Traded Me for a Pop Princess

1: 1

My boyfriend, Rex Swanson, wrote in a style all his own, and he had a temper to match, so he could rarely find the right singer to perform his songs.

To keep him writing, most of his songs got recorded by me, and luckily the fans decided my versions weren't bad at all.

With the Fourth of July coming up, I planned to write a piece of my own and sing it at the holiday gala.

I'd barely opened my music app when the little red dot in the top corner lit up. A new private message.

I figured it was some singer he followed posting an update. What actually came up on the screen froze me where I sat.

"Little dummy, I made this song just for you. Do you like it? If you do, take it and sing it. It's perfect for the gala, and it'll definitely land on the Billboard Hot 100 this year!"

"Thank you, Rex~ love you love you. But won't Ann be mad?"

"Her? I'll just toss something together for her, no need to fuss over it. Not like you, my little dummy. Yours I'll obviously put my whole heart into~"

I lifted my head, disbelief all over my face.

He actually had the nerve to sit right in front of me and flirt like that with another woman?

"Rex, what are you working on?"

"Tsk. Don't talk, don't break my train of thought. Writing your song, what else?"

The knit brows and that impatient tone made my stomach drop. I got up and walked over to him.

I watched him fumble to close the window, then shove back from the desk to block the screen with his body, shouting at me.

"Ann Pruitt, are you done? You know I hate being interrupted when I'm writing. Now please, get out of here and stop messing with my flow!"

I pressed my lips together, let my eyes drift over the screen, and said in a small, wounded voice.

"Rex, you're scaring me, getting this worked up. I only wanted to see how the writing was going. I thought we could talk through some of the details together."

He drew a long breath, smiled with a stiff face, and softened his voice.

"I'm sorry, Annie. I've been under a lot of pressure lately. I didn't mean to raise my voice. Don't worry, I'll pour myself into this so you take the gala by storm. Once you finish your work, go rest first. I'll be in soon."

I gave an obedient little nod, gathered up my laptop, turned, and went into the bedroom.

The second the door shut, my face dropped. I wanted to see exactly which "little dummy" he was pouring his heart out for.

I opened her profile, went through who she followed and the posts she put up day to day, and finally checked the IP. I had a pretty good guess who it was.

I really hadn't expected it to be my old best friend. The sweet-pop princess now, Lucia Harding.

Back then, the two of us both graduated from the music conservatory, went on the same talent show together, and climbed step by step to where we are now.

Until the year I won a Grammy singing a song Rex wrote, and Lucia won nothing at all. In a fit of rage, she stood up in front of everyone and aired a lot of my private business.

"Ann Pruitt doesn't deserve that award. She leans on men wherever she goes. For all we know she's got someone on the judging panel too!"

Back then I was a newcomer with no one behind me, so all I could do was quietly swallow the abuse and the mockery from outside.

While I was living through those dark, helpless days, Lucia had already become a top-tier singer, endorsements piling up until she was turning them away, appearing at event after event, playing concert after concert.

Only Rex stayed by my side, kept me company, comforted me. That was what slowly pulled me out of the shadows.

And now he was going to write a song, with his own hands, for the very person who had hurt me. You could tell that song fit Lucia perfectly, tailor-made for her.

His betrayal made me feel like the blood had frozen in my veins, but I knew I wasn't the girl who swallowed everything anymore.

Expression blank, I typed a line into the chat box and sent it.

"Rex, Lucia, what are you two chatting about? Count me in!" [smile]

2: 2

"Ann, open the door, let me explain! We were only talking about music, don't get the wrong idea!"

He pounded on the door and yanked the handle like a madman while I calmly lifted my phone and started taking photos for evidence.

"Save it. It's all right there in the chat, I can read it fine on my own. Now do me a favor and pack up your things and get out of my apartment. I'll ship the rest to you. Otherwise I'll call the police, and I doubt you want to end up trending online, do you?"

The knocking stopped. A second later came the sound of him kicking the door, and he roared.

"Ann Pruitt, I dare you to post that! So I'm only allowed to write songs for you, not for anyone else? You just want to keep my talent all to yourself. You're so selfish!"

For a second he actually made me laugh. I never realized he was this good at making excuses.

The screen lit up. Lucia had replied.

"How could I be Lucia Harding, you've got the wrong person! In that case, there's no need for us to work together. Goodbye!"

When I tapped her profile again, it was gone. She'd blocked Rex's account.

"Aw, your little dummy blocked you. So sorry about that. But you can look up her main account, it's Sweet Lucia. You two can keep chatting."

What they'd said before was even worse. If I hadn't been with him every single day, the two of them would probably have moved on to the next stage already.

Rex shouted himself hoarse outside my door and still wouldn't leave, so I had no choice but to call the police.

"Hello, someone has broken into my home. Could you please come and remove him for me."

The officers arrived fast. I hurried to open the door, pointed at a stone-faced Rex, and said in a frightened voice.

"Officer, please help me, this man's been kicking my door, I'm so scared!"

"Ann Pruitt, cut the act! I'm her fianc, don't listen to her nonsense."

He reached out to grab my arm, and the young officer caught his hand at once and pinned him against the couch.

"Ms. Pruitt, are you all right? Whatever you need, just tell us, we won't let him do anything."

I squeezed out a few pitiful tears and choked out.

"My body isn't hurt, but my heart has taken a terrible blow. He, he actually..."

"Ann Pruitt! Shut your mouth! Stop spouting nonsense or I'll never let this go!"

He roared and struggled, but it did him no good at all.

I went with them to the station to give a statement. He was warned not to harass me again, and we settled it privately.

The moment I stepped out of the station, a crowd of reporters was waiting, cameras trained on us, snapping away.

Rex was already fuming, and he jabbed a finger at them, cursing.

"Who told you to film here! Stop filming, get out of the way!"

But no one listened to him. The questions came one after another.

"Is it true that you wrote songs for Lucia Harding, Ann Pruitt's former best friend?"

"Have Ann Pruitt and Lucia Harding made up?"

Rex's face went black as a pot bottom. He dragged me by the arm off to a corner and said through gritted teeth.

"Did you call those reporters here? Ann Pruitt, so this is your game, you want to take us both down together, is that it! If I hadn't been writing your songs all these years, you think you'd have won all those awards!?"

I let out a scoff, crossed my arms over my chest, and said casually.

"Have you forgotten I didn't follow your melody, and I didn't stick to your lyrics either? Eighty percent of it I rewrote, and you still have the nerve to say you carried me? Rex, I've been propping up your name all these years. Did that make you forget your own worth?"

He stared at me with his eyes wide, his face flushing red then draining white with rage, unable to force out a single word.

At last, seeing more and more reporters gathering, he strode up in front of them and announced loudly.

"I have something to tell everyone. Today I'm breaking up with Ann Pruitt! From now on she and I are sworn enemies, and I will never write another song for her!"

I didn't expect the young officer behind me to blurt out, thrilled.

"That's wonderful, Annie can finally be herself!"

Rex's face went darker still. He stumbled toward the stairs, hurried down, missed his footing, and tumbled all the way to the bottom.

That night Rex was trending online: "Rex Swanson tumbles down the stairs as punishment for betraying Ann Pruitt."

3: 3

A few days after Rex Swanson moved out of my place, people spotted him moving into Lucia Harding's building, and the internet went straight to the obvious conclusion: they were living together.

"Rex Swanson's got some game, huh. Doesn't even have to buy his own place."

"His songs are all obscure and pretentious, and somehow two gorgeous women are fighting over him? Make it make sense."

Rex was so furious he posted a photo online: a property deed with his name on it.

"Open your eyes and look. I own my place! Please stop making baseless guesses about me and Ms. Harding. We simply admire each other's talent!"

Lucia went one better and tagged me directly, hoping to clear up any misunderstanding.

"Annie, I know we're not as close as we used to be, but I also know you've held a grudge against me all this time. I was too immature back then. If you're still angry, would it make things right if I wrote you a song myself, as an apology?"

Just like that, I was shoved into the eye of the storm.

The gossip accounts never mind stirring the pot, so they dug up every old thing between the two of us.

I turned it over in my head and gave one simple reply.

"Thanks, but no. I don't sing sweet pop."

I didn't expect Rex to fire off online in a passion, riding to Lucia's defense.

"Ann Pruitt, we ended things cleanly. Why take it out on her? Lucia offered to write you a song out of the goodness of her heart, and instead of being grateful you snipe back at her? Do you have any idea how many times she listened to your songs just to write for you? She sings your songs in her sleep!"

I let out a scoff. Nothing like a man losing his head over a pretty face, saying anything that comes to mind.

"Oh? Mr. Swanson knows what Ms. Harding says in her sleep? By the way, all these years I swallowed my disgust and sang those songs you wrote, just to keep from bruising your confidence. Time I went back to being myself. Threw together a few little demos. Here you go, everyone."

To my surprise, the next day a lot of well-known musicians extended offers, inviting me to write songs for them.

Only now did people realize I could arrange and write lyrics, and they kept saying I'd made the right call cutting ties.

When Rex saw it, he stayed up all night churning out song after song and posted them, only to be met with everyone's mockery.

"Please, stop feeding us garbage!"

"Without Ann's voice, the stuff you write is worse than garbage."

Rex completely lost it, deleting the comments and blocking people.

"Fine, then. This year I'll win Lucia the Grammy, and a certain someone had better not come crying to me to write her a song!"

I gave a contemptuous little laugh and dropped a comment.

"Congratulations! When the two of you get married, I'll gift you a song."

I couldn't be bothered with this pair of clowns. All I wanted was to finish my new songs and give the audience the most perfect performance.

Because of all this, Rex kept popping up in the trending topics, and somehow the misfortune turned lucky: plenty of shows started inviting him on.

One of them was a dating reality show that wanted him and Lucia together, and they invited me to come on as an observer.

The moment the news broke, everyone lost it, all asking whether I was really going to watch the two of them date on the network's dime.

The next day I officially confirmed the show. Something this entertaining, of course I had to get a front-row seat.

But Rex panicked. That very night he was staked out downstairs at my building, bundled up in disguise, and the second he saw me he charged over, grabbed my arm, and demanded an answer.

"Ann Pruitt, are you doing this on purpose? We've already broken up. All I want now is to build my career. Can you please stop coming near me!"

I yanked my arm free and scoffed.

"You really do flatter yourself. All I can say is you're reading way too much into it, because it's definitely not that I still like you. I just want to see how the two of you date. Oh, and one more thing: I'm an investor on this show. So don't you go raising your voice at me."

4: 4

He froze, staring at me as if he hadn't understood a word.

I took the chance to step back, calm and unhurried.

"I never brought it up before. I figured I'd tell you after we got the marriage license. But I might as well say it now. All these years I've been putting money into projects and turning a profit, then I bought into the media company and became one of the shareholders. This show is funded by me."

His face drained white in an instant. The next second, red with humiliation and rage, he closed the distance in two strides, clamped both hands hard onto my shoulders, and roared.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? You never treated me like family! All these years I scrimped and saved, terrified we wouldn't have enough between us, and you're only telling me this now?"

I let out a small sigh and rolled my eyes, my patience gone.

"Please. The whole time we lived together, did I ever let you spend a cent? Every shopping trip, every takeout order at home, that was all me. And that limited-edition motorcycle you wanted, who bought that? Rex Swanson, the biggest gift you ever sent me was ninety-nine dollars."

My words left his whole face burning red. He raised his arm, about to bring it down on me, when a man's voice came from the side.

"I didn't realize Mr. Swanson had such a temper. Hitting a woman, no less. Tsk, tsk."

Frank Gilbert came toward us slowly, a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Rex didn't recognize him. Hearing the words, he gave me a cold laugh.

"No wonder you were in such a hurry to break up. You already had someone new. Playing the poor little victim in front of the press, and behind the scenes you're more of a player than anyone."

I pressed a hand to my forehead and gave a bitter smile.

"Genius. This is Frank Gilbert, the president of the biggest media company. He's also Lucia Harding's boss."

He went blank, then instantly switched to a fawning grin, bowing to curry favor.

"Mr. Gilbert, so young and already so accomplished. I was out of line just now, truly sorry. I do hope you'll look after Lucia going forward. This was all just a family misunderstanding, we're all on the same side, really."

Frank ignored him and walked straight up to me, looking at my shoulder with concern.

"Should I take you to the hospital? If your arm's hurt, the show may have to be put on hold."

Rex forced an awkward laugh and quickly reached out to knead and pat my shoulder.

"Mr. Gilbert, don't worry. I didn't use much force just now."

"Oh? Then let's see if this hurts."

Frank laid a hand on Rex's shoulder and slowly tightened his grip, until the veins stood out on the back of his hand.

Rex was already sweating at the temples from the pain, his face flushed red, biting down on his lip and not daring to make a sound.

I sighed, out of patience, and snapped.

"If you two have something to say, say it. If not, get moving. Stop bothering my rest."

At that Rex spun around, tossed a "Goodbye" at Frank, and hurried off.

Frank arched a brow at me, half smiling.

"Not bad acting, right? So that's your ex-husband. He's really too"

"Shut it. Don't make my last relationship sound like a criminal record. Just get to the point. I've got a studio session tomorrow."

Only then did the smile leave his face. He turned serious.

"I just got some inside word. Your program's been killed. I asked around for you. Looks like you stepped on someone's toes."

I went still. After a long moment I asked, low.

"And Lucia?"

"Her show's been slotted into prime time. Probably the highest ratings of the lot."

I gave a cold laugh, mocking.

"One guess and I know it's her. I didn't think she'd climbed that high already."

"Mr. Gilbert, I'm requesting that we record the dating reality show ahead of schedule, and do it as a live broadcast. Trust me. The ratings will go through the roof."