The quiet hum of Celeste's makeshift studio in Clocksville had become her sanctuary. She sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered lyric sheets, half-drunk coffee cups, and a growing stack of demo CDs. The weight of In Circles pressed heavily on her shoulders—not just the album's title, but the message, the tone, and the stakes.
Every note, every lyric, felt like an act of rebellion and an invitation for chaos. She knew the Circle wouldn't approve, but Celeste didn't care. For once, she wasn't asking permission.
Liam often joined her in the late hours, sitting silently as she played melodies over and over, tweaking a line or a chord progression until it felt perfect.
"Listen to this," Celeste said one night, strumming her acoustic guitar. Her voice was raw, filled with both sorrow and defiance as she sang the opening verse of a song she had just titled Sacrificed:
"You took my body, took my name,
A debt I paid in blood and shame,
But I'll rise, I'll burn, I'll claim my flame…"
Liam closed his eyes, letting the haunting melody sink in. When she finished, he opened them again, his gaze heavy with concern. "Celeste… it's beautiful. But it's going to stir things up. Are you sure you want to do this?"
She set her guitar down, her fingers trembling slightly. "I don't have a choice. This is who I am. They don't get to control my voice anymore."
The next morning, Celeste dove headfirst into another track, one she had been struggling to write for weeks. She titled it Mommy??, inspired by the darker, more unsettling parts of her journey. The song was a desperate plea, a confrontation of the sacrifices she had made and the question of who she had become.
She scribbled lyrics furiously:
"Mommy, are you proud of me?
Or scared of what I've done?
I traded love for power,
And now there's nowhere to run…"
As she recorded the demo, tears streamed down her face. The rawness of her emotions poured into the mic, creating a performance so visceral it gave her chills.
Her favorite track, though, was Midnight Heaven, a seductive, melancholic anthem with soaring vocals and a driving beat. The song captured the duality of her life—the intoxicating highs of fame and the suffocating lows of her secret burdens.
Liam walked in as she was layering harmonies on the chorus. "That one's going to be huge," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "It's… hypnotic."
Celeste smiled faintly. "It's everything I feel but can't say. I think the world will understand."
By the end of May 2029, Celeste had completed the album. It was unlike anything she had ever done before: bold, unapologetic, and deeply personal. She handed the final masters to Columbia with a simple message:
"Release it. I don't care about the fallout."
The label, initially hesitant, realized the potential of In Circles. They announced its release for June 2029 with little fanfare, relying on Celeste's name alone to ignite interest. And it worked.
Midnight Heaven became an instant hit, dominating charts worldwide. Fans dissected the cryptic lyrics of Sacrificed and Mommy??, speculating about hidden meanings and connections to her elusive past.
The Night It All Changed
The buzz surrounding the album only made her more of a target. By late June, the mansion in Clocksville felt less like a sanctuary and more like a fortress. Security guards patrolled the property, but Celeste still couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
And then, in the dead of night, the Circle struck.
She woke to chaos—shadows moving in her room, voices barking orders. Liam was shouting somewhere in the distance. Her guards were subdued, their weapons confiscated.
A masked figure loomed over her, his voice calm but firm. "Come with us. Now."
The official story broke the next day: Celeste had fought off "obsessed fans" who broke into her mansion, resulting in a traumatic incident that caused premature labor and the loss of her baby.
The truth was far darker.
When she woke in a sterile room, Eleanor Vaughn was waiting for her.
"Eleanor," Celeste whispered, her voice trembling with rage and grief.
Eleanor's expression was unreadable, her auburn hair perfectly coiffed. "You should thank me," she said coolly. "This could have been much worse."
Celeste's hand instinctively went to her stomach, where she already knew the child she'd carried was gone.
Eleanor leaned forward, her voice soft but laced with menace. "You knew the rules, Celeste. And yet, you dared to defy us with that album. In Circles? Clever, but foolish."
Tears burned in Celeste's eyes. "You're a monster."
"No," Eleanor said, standing. "I'm your reality. And don't you ever forget it."
Her mother and Rollie arrived days later, both devastated by what had happened. Rollie, now visibly pregnant, stayed close to Celeste, holding her hand as paparazzi swarmed outside the mansion.
"You're not alone," Rollie said softly.
Celeste stared at her sister's growing belly, her heart breaking all over again. "But I am," she whispered.
Eleanor's parting words haunted her: "You belong to us, Celeste. Forever."