Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 245

Four years ago, he had been racking his brain over his debut single, desperate to drop a hit that would catapult him into the glamorous entertainment industry.

But draft after draft ended in failure, leaving him completely dissatisfied. Just as his inspiration dried up and he teetered on the edge of a breakdown, Phoenix handed him a manuscript.

"Ian, I wrote a song. Since you're a singer, could you take a look?" Back then, Phoenix was meek, holding out the crumpled sheet of paper with both hands, offering it to him with an almost pathetic humility.

At the time, he felt nothing but disdain. What could a bumpkin fresh from the countryside possibly know about music?

Yet, the moment his eyes lazily skimmed the first lyric, his pupils dilated—it was breathtaking! It was exactly the brilliant inspiration he had been dreaming of but could never grasp.

The song, titled *My Brother's Keeper*, was written by Phoenix shortly after she returned to the family, a desperate plea for her brothers to accept and love her.

The melody was hauntingly beautiful, and the lyrics bled with a vulnerable, burning desire for familial love. It possessed an effortless ability to shatter emotional defenses and stir the soul.

"What do you think? I... it's my first time writing. Is it terrible?" Phoenix had looked at him, her eyes shining with hope.

"Trash," he had replied, his face a mask of ice, delivering the most venomous critique possible. "You really think a hick like you can write original music? It's a joke! What is this 'brother' nonsense? It's so melodramatic it makes me want to puke."

He had snatched the paper, crumpled it into a ball, and aggressively pitched it into the nearby trash can.

The light instantly vanished from Phoenix's eyes, though she forced a strained, eager-to-please smile. "You're right. I only learned a little on my own; it's nothing compared to a professionally trained singer like you."

Her words made his face burn inexplicably. On the surface, it was a compliment, but to his ears, it felt like silent mockery.

"Get out! Don't you ever bother me without permission again!" He had shoved her out roughly and slammed the door.

But the very next second, he rushed to the trash can, hands trembling as he smoothed out that crumpled piece of paper.

Suppressing his wild thrill and anxiety, he recorded and released the song. Overnight, it exploded into a viral sensation.

For years, he had brainwashed himself into believing it was his own original creation, endlessly putting Phoenix down to fuel his own ego.

But every cruel thing he did was just a shield to hide his guilt, terrified of facing the ugly, naked truth.

"Who do you think you are, Ian?"

Phoenix's cool voice acted like a bucket of ice water, dragging him violently out of the depths of his memories. "Strip away your fake persona, and you're just a thief. Losing everything today simply exposed you for what you really are."

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