POV: Nova
The Grammy statue felt heavier than I expected.
Golden and gleaming under the stage lights, it caught every flash from the cameras below. My name—Nova Black—echoed through the arena as thousands of people cheered. I should have felt like I was flying. This was it. The moment I'd dreamed of since I was seven years old, singing into my hairbrush in front of my bedroom mirror.
"Thank you," I whispered into the microphone, my voice shaking. The crowd roared louder.
I clutched the award tighter, feeling its sharp edges dig into my palm. "This belongs to everyone who believed in broken melodies finding their way to beautiful songs."
The applause crashed over me like waves, but something felt wrong. Empty. I scanned the audience, searching for the one face that should have been beaming with pride.
Darren wasn't in his seat.
My husband of three years, my manager, the man who'd built my career from coffee shop gigs to Grammy gold—gone. His empty chair stared back at me like an accusation.
I forced my smile wider and walked off stage, my heels clicking against the polished floor. The Grammy felt like a brick in my hands.
"Nova! Over here!"
"How does it feel to win?"
"What's next for Nova Black?"
Reporters swarmed, but I pushed through them, my eyes searching. Where was he? This was supposed to be our moment. Our victory.
The backstage area buzzed with celebration. Champagne corks popped. Other winners laughed and posed for selfies. But I felt like I was drowning in all the noise.
"Have you seen Darren?" I asked Marcus, my security guard.
He shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, maybe check the green room?"
The green room. Of course. He was probably on a business call, making deals while I held our golden future in my hands. That was Darren—always working, always planning my next move.
I walked down the hallway, my dress trailing behind me like liquid starlight. The Grammy ceremony dress had cost more than most people's cars—Darren's idea, of course. "You need to look like a winner," he'd said while zipping me into it this morning.
I felt like a winner. Until I heard the soft laughter coming from behind the green room door.
My hand froze on the handle. That laugh wasn't Darren's.
I pushed the door open.
Darren stood with his back to me, his hands tangled in long blonde hair that definitely wasn't mine. A woman in a tiny red dress was pressed against the wall, her lips locked with my husband's. Her hands roamed over his chest like she owned him.
Like I didn't exist.
The Grammy slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a loud clank.
They broke apart. The blonde—some model I'd seen in magazines—had the decency to look shocked. Her red lipstick was smeared across Darren's mouth like a brand.
"Nova." Darren's voice was calm. Too calm. Like he'd been expecting this. "Congratulations on your win."
That was it? Congratulations?
"Three years," I whispered. My throat felt like sandpaper. "Three years of marriage and this is how you celebrate my biggest night?"
The model tried to slip past me, but I didn't move. Let her see what she'd helped destroy.
"Don't be dramatic, baby." Darren straightened his tie, wiping the red from his lips with his thumb. "You got what you wanted. Your little trophy. Your moment in the spotlight."
"My little trophy?" The words came out strangled.
"I made you, Nova. I took a nobody from a small town and turned you into Grammy winner Nova Black. This"—he gestured between himself and the model—"this is just business."
Business. He called cheating on me business.
Something cracked inside my chest. Not my heart—that was already broken. Something deeper. Something that had been holding me together for three years of his controlling, manipulation, and lies.
"You're right," I said, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded. "You did make me. But you know what, Darren?"
I picked up my Grammy, holding it like a weapon.
"I can unmake this marriage just as easily."
His eyes flashed with something dangerous. "Nova, don't—"
But I was already walking away, my dress flowing behind me like liquid fire. The model called something after me, but I didn't listen. The roar in my ears was too loud.
I found myself back on stage somehow. The presenter was introducing the next category, but I walked right past him to the microphone.
The arena fell silent.
Thousands of faces stared up at me. Cameras zoomed in. This was live television. Millions of people watching around the world.
Perfect.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, my voice carrying through the speakers like a bell. "I have an announcement."
In the front row, I could see Darren pushing through the crowd, his face twisted with panic.
"Tonight, I won my first Grammy." I held the statue high. "And tonight, I'm also announcing my divorce from Darren Blake."
The arena exploded. Cameras flashed like lightning. People gasped and shouted. Security guards tried to reach me, but I kept talking.
"Some people think they can own you when they help you shine. But no one owns Nova Black. Not anymore."
I set the microphone down and walked off stage as chaos erupted behind me.
In the wings, Darren was waiting.
His face was no longer panicked. Instead, he wore a smile that made ice crawl down my spine. The cameras were still rolling, still catching every moment, but he didn't seem to care.
He leaned close to my ear, his voice a whisper that somehow cut through all the noise.
"You'll regret this."