From Music to: CEO's Contract Wife

The Invisible Girl

Carolin's POV

Lancaster Academy looked like it had been carved from stone and privilege.

Clean, cold, and polished within an inch of its soul.

Stone towers pierced a gray-blue sky. Hedges trimmed like sculpture. Students with cheekbones carved by legacy and shoes worth more than my family car.

To them, I was background noise.

Dragging my leg across the icy steps, I kept my chin down. Invisible was easier.

The school motto loomed above the gate: Veritas. Honor. Prestige.

I used to dream of carving in a fourth word with a pocketknife: Survive.

"Look, the limp is fashionably early today," someone sneered behind me.

Another voice: "Do you think that backpack came with the Ark?"

Laughter followed. Polished and practiced.

I didn't flinch.

I was Carolin Make-the scholarship ghost. A walking cautionary tale. Not pretty enough to be envied. Not bold enough to be feared. Just... tolerated.

And yet, on some fragile days...

I still dreamed of being seen.

At my locker, I bent to punch in my code.

SLAM.

The metal bit into my fingers.

"Oops," came the syrupy voice.

Olivia Sterling.

Blonde curls, white coat or malice in mascara.

Tiffany and Zara flanked her, designer bags and all.

"Didn't see you there, Carol-LUMP," Olivia purred.

I clenched my jaw. "Leave me alone."

She leaned closer, her perfume suffocating. "Just admiring your... dedication. Still trying to make that dusty piano thing happen?"

Their laughter felt like glass.

That piano had once been my world.

I stayed silent.

And then... he walked by.

Adrian Chase.

His presence shifted the air.

Dark curls, jawline like defiance, and a blazer that should've been illegal.

He didn't laugh.

Didn't stop.

Just... looked.

Our eyes met for a moment longer than they should have.

There was something different in his stare today. Not the usual smirk, not quite pity and not quite anything I could name.

I looked away first.

But my pulse didn't.

He passed by-and somehow, the cold stayed.

Later, I slipped into the west wing-my refuge of forgotten music.

The door opened. The piano waited.

I sat, hands trembling.

One chord, two.

🎵 "Built my walls with silence... stone by lonely stone..." 🎵

My voice filled the room, raw and real. For once, it didn't sound broken.

It sounded like me.

What I didn't know?

Someone was recording.

Lunch was different.

Whispers, stares and then-

SLAM.

Mabel my only and best friend from old days, dropped her tray beside me. "Carolin. You need to see this."

She turned her phone around.

A video.

Of me. Singing.

It was shaky-filmed through the cracked door-but my voice was crystal-clear.

The caption?

Lancaster's Hidden Angel

"She sings like heartbreak and heaven."

My heart stuttered.

"It's viral," Mabel said. "Everywhere. TikTok. Reels. Even VidPop."

Comments flew past the screen.

> North Star Music Festival: DM us. Let's talk.

I blinked.

And when I looked up...

Adrian Chase was watching me again.

From across the room.

No smug grin. Just... stillness.

Eyes locked on me like he didn't understand what he was seeing.

Like maybe-just maybe-he heard me for the first time.

I didn't look away this time.

Let him see me.

Let him wonder.

Let him want.

That night, I curled up in my room beneath flickering fairy lights and dreams I never dared speak aloud.

My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

> Two thousand followers.

Audition request.

My voice, heard.

I stared at my reflection in my cracked mirror. At my scars, at the leg that bent wrong.

At the girl I had hidden away for too long.

And then... I saw it.

The tiniest shimmer of worth.

Sunday came fast.

I stood outside the regional audition hall, guitar in hand, nerves climbing like ivy.

Mabel squeezed my fingers. "You ready?"

"No," I whispered.

Then smiled.

"But I'm going in anyway."

Inside, I sang-not for them.

Not even for revenge.

I sang for the girl in the mirror who finally deserved to be loved.

Backstage, a boy leaned against the wall, watching the livestream on his phone.

Adrian.

His jaw tensed.

His chest rose, slow and heavy.

"She's not invisible anymore," he murmured to himself.

And for the first time...

He didn't know what to do with that.