Chapter 5 Secrets Don't Stay Silent

Maurice Blanchet – POV

I knew something was wrong the second I walked into the studio and Marc wasn't there.

He was always the first to show up-loud, messy, bursting with a hundred ideas before the rest of us even had coffee. But today, nothing.

Just the hum of machines and an unfinished beat looping like a broken record. I checked my phone again. Still nothing. No text. No voicemail. No angry rant in the group chat. Just silence. And that silence?

It hit harder than any punch he'd ever thrown.

Rosalie hadn't said a word. Sophie hadn't come home last night.

And Marc... he was gone. I should've gone after him after the mess at Radio France. I should've pulled him aside, forced a real conversation.

But I didn't. I let him walk. Now I was standing in the ashes, wondering when exactly the fire started.

The studio door opened. I didn't hear a knock. Just footsteps. And then him. Korex. Walking in like he owned the place. I stood. Fast. "What are you doing here?" He smiled. "Relax, Maurice. Just here to talk." "You're not welcome here." He stepped closer, slow and casual. "Then why aren't you kicking me out?"

I didn't answer. Because deep down, I was frozen.

Because part of me knew-whatever he came with was going to leave a scar. This was the same Korex from Belleville.

Same eyes. Same voice. But something had changed.

The street-kid hunger had turned into something colder. More calculated. He wore snakeskin boots now. Chains. A devil's smile.

"I know you saw the video," he said. "You think that'll kill Marc?" He tilted his head. "It's not about killing him. It's about balance."

He leaned on the couch. "For years, people treated M² like royalty. You two rose from nothing while the rest of us watched from the gutters. Me? I got left behind. Forgotten. So yeah... I'm just correcting history."

I stepped forward. "So you're dragging him down because you couldn't keep up?"

He smirked. "Funny, coming from the quiet twin. Always standing two feet behind him." I clenched my fists. "You don't know what we've been through. Marc worked for every step we climbed."

He shrugged. "And now he pays for what he buried." My pulse quickened. "What does that mean?" Korex pulled something from his pocket-a flash drive. Tossed it onto the couch like it weighed nothing. "Your brother's not the only one with secrets," he said. "Let's see how well you really know your partner." Then he walked out.

No mic drop. No dramatic music. Just silence-and that damn flash drive staring up at me like a curse. I didn't want to touch it. But I did. I plugged it into the studio laptop and pressed play. Grainy video. Shaky cam. Looked like someone's phone recording from a party. Marc was there.

Younger. Maybe 19.

Slurring drunk. Angry. Surrounded by strangers. The music was loud, but his voice cut through it like a knife. Ranting. About fame. About being the star. About carrying the whole brand. Then he said it. "I don't need Maurice. I carry this brand on my back. Always have." Laughter. Someone off-screen cheered.

"Talk your talk, superstar!" Marc raised a bottle like a victory flag. "He's just lucky he's my brother." I closed the laptop. My chest felt like it was collapsing inward. Not because of the words.

But because of how true they sounded when he said them. Had he always felt that way? Was I really just the background noise in his song?

I wanted to believe it was drunk talk. That he didn't mean it. But something in his face... something in the way he looked into the camera... told me otherwise. My phone buzzed again. Still no word from Marc. Still no Sophie. Still alone. And now I had to wonder-if Marc had been lying about how he really saw me...

Then what else was I blind to?

I needed clarity. I needed air. So I went to the only place I could think of-the rooftop in Belleville. The old one. Where we used to dream before the world got too loud. When I got there, the city lights looked softer. Smaller. And I wasn't alone. I heard voices. Marc.

And Sophie. I stopped. I should've turned around.

But I didn't.

I crept behind the water tank and listened.

"There's another video. And it's worse." "It's you. From a party. Five years ago..." "He's about to release it-make you look like a monster." My blood turned cold. Sophie knew?

And hadn't told me? Then Marc's voice, low and cracked. "Why now? Why are you only telling me now?" Sophie replied:

"Because I helped him once." I stepped into the open. "What?" They both froze. Marc went pale. Sophie blinked like she'd seen a ghost. "Maurice..." she breathed. "You helped Korex?" I asked, voice flat. Heavy. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. "I didn't mean to-" "Save it." Marc stepped forward. "I just found out-"

"And didn't tell me?" I snapped. "We were going to" "No. You were going to fix your mess and leave me in the dark like always." Sophie moved toward me. "Maurice, I" "I trusted you." My voice cracked. "I loved you." She looked wrecked. But I couldn't care. Not now. "I was trying to protect you," she said softly.

I laughed. Sharp. Bitter. "Protect me? You stood beside me every day while your ex plotted to ruin us-and you said nothing."

Marc stepped in. "Fighting each other won't help." I turned to him. "And you. You really think you're the one carrying us? That I'm just lucky to be your brother?" "That video was old" "But you meant it." He looked down. Didn't deny it.

That silence cut deeper than anything Korex ever said. I walked away. Not out of anger. Out of clarity. I was done being the footnote in someone else's legacy. Back at the apartment, I didn't even stop to think. I grabbed a bag.

Notebook. Guitar. Headphones. A sweater. Then I called our manager.

"Cancel the show." "What? You can't be serious" "I'm not doing it." "This will cost you millions" "Let it." I hung up. Sat on the edge of my bed. And for the first time in years... I felt free. Not okay.

Not whole. But unchained. My phone buzzed. One new message. From a number I should've blocked weeks ago.

Korex:

So... You finally saw the real Marc. Ready to talk? Maurice doesn't respond. But his fingers hover over the reply button for a long, dangerous second. Then a second message comes in. Korex:

What if I told you the next video isn't about Marc... but about Sophie?

And this time... Maurice replies. Maurice:

Where and when?