The Lucifer's Muse

Sky Building, 3rd Floor, Room 5

The ticking clock was the only sound filling the tiny room.

6:00 AM.

"I overslept again..." Ixora mumbled groggily, rolling out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom. A splash of cold water jolted her awake. Minutes later, she was dressed in a simple sport attire, switching on the TV to her usual morning workout channel.

Today's the selection, she reminded herself, her heart sinking a little. Three years at Star Academy and not once had she been chosen for the national stage. Not even as the Black Swan. Yet, she kept hoping.

Lost in thought, she stumbled over her gym mat.

"Ahhh!" she winced, covering her mouth quickly. Her neighbor hated noise - and in this cheap apartment she hadn't paid rent for this year, she could hardly afford complaints.

Her phone rang.

It was Rita.

"Happy birthday, Ixora!" Rita's voice practically burst through the speaker. Ixora had to pull the phone from her ear.

"Oh baby, you must be exercising. Listen - tonight we're celebrating at Midsummer Club! It's the start of your youth!"

Ixora smiled faintly. "Yeah, thanks. I almost forgot it's my birthday."

"Don't tell me you're in a bad mood again. Once I'm off shift, we're running the town of silicone tonight, baby!"

"With that sad salary of yours?" Ixora teased.

"Anything for you. Hey - has Jayden called you? He's probably planning something special. You two have been together since we left school."

"He's been on a trip for a month now. No calls, no messages. Nothing." Her voice cracked.

"Maybe he's busy preparing the best birthday gift ever."

Before Ixora could reply, something outside caught her eye. From her small balcony, she spotted a familiar black car pull up. Jayden's car.

"Wait - that's his car." She blinked.

"Okay, my boss is here, gotta run! Love you!" Rita hung up.

Ixora leaned over the rail, watching as Jayden stepped out... and opened the passenger door for a girl. The girl pecked his lips, and he kissed her forehead tenderly.

Her heart cracked.

It's not me...

Fingers trembling, she dialed his number.

Downstairs, Jayden's phone lit up. He glanced at the caller ID, sighed, and switched it off.

He's ignoring me.

A memory from a year ago stabbed at her - the night she gave him everything on her birthday. His promises of forever. His gentle care. And then four months ago, the excuses began. Work, meetings, trips. She swallowed a sob.

Unable to stop herself, she called Diana - her former roommate, who worked at the same office as Jayden.

"Happy birthday, girl! I sent you a red envelope! Midsummer tonight, right?"

"Thanks. Hey... can you send me Jayden's new number? I lost mine." Ixora forced her voice to stay light.

A pause.

"I thought you guys broke up two months ago?"

"What?"

"Didn't you hear? Jayden announced his new girlfriend three weeks back. Hera. The intern. They've been everywhere together."

The room spun.

"Ixora... are you okay?" Diana asked, her voice filled with guilt.

"It's... the breeze," she whispered, but tears poured freely.

"I swear, I didn't know you weren't aware. I kept meaning to tell you but things got so hectic. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. Thanks for being honest."

"Come tonight, okay? Don't be alone."

Ixora hung up. She cried until there were no tears left. She trusted him. Body. Soul. Everything. What a fool.

A message lit up her phone.

'Hey babe, sorry - crazy day at work. Missed your call.'

She stared at it for a moment... then blocked the number.

Not even rage. Just emptiness.

Then, a call from Director Wendy.

"Ixora, about the lead role - I know you were selected, but one of our top sponsors wants Tasha to play it. Actually... you won't be appearing on stage at all."

"What?"

"Don't worry, you'll get 5000 bucks. It'll keep you afloat for the year. Maybe next time." The line went dead.

She wasn't asked. She was ordered. Last year it was her accent. The year before, inexperience. Now, money.

The bathroom mirror reflected a girl she no longer recognized.

Empty.

She sat for what felt like hours before forcing herself to dress. Loose blue jeans, an oversized white T-shirt, white canvas sneakers. She tied her dark blue hair up, leaving soft bangs in front.

On the second-floor stairs, she heard it - Jayden's voice.

"See you later, baby."

Another kiss on the forehead.

Her heart stopped.

Her phone rang.

"I'm on my way," she said to Elisha.

She didn't look back. No hesitation. Head held high, she walked steadily past Jayden's car towards the alley, not sparing him a glance.

Downstairs, Jayden glanced at his phone, frowning. No reply.

"Something wrong?" Hera asked.

"Nothing." He pocketed his phone and smiled.

Star Academy

The moment Ixora stepped into the academy, she felt it.

Every gaze landed on her like invisible needles.

What now? she wondered. She hadn't said a word about the lead role. Not yet.

"Ixora!"

Amelia waved her over, her ever-gossipy grin in place.

"Hey Amelia. Did something happen?" she asked cautiously.

Amelia leaned in. "I heard from Tasha you're giving up the lead role for her."

Ixora's brows knitted together. "I never-"

"She even said you took money for it. Seriously, did you run out of cash? Why give up such an opportunity? Do you realize how many endorsements and overseas study offers come with being the Swan Princess?" Amelia rattled on, eyes wide.

"I didn't agree to anything." Ixora cut her off coldly.

Amelia blinked, then grinned. "I knew it. Only a fool would give that up. It's been three years - finally, you're first place."

Before Ixora could answer, a voice dripped with fake sweetness behind them.

"Teacher Elisha is waiting for you in the director's office." Tasha called.

Amelia shot her a glare. "Spreading rumors now, huh?"

Tasha's expression darkened, but she turned on her heel and walked away, faster.

Amelia leaned in. "Don't agree. Word is the sponsor's from the Colton family. But don't give in. Not this time."

Ixora gave a small nod and walked towards the office.

Director Wendy's Office

"Oh, you're here." Director Wendy adjusted her glasses without looking up. Tasha and Elisha stood nearby. Elisha's face looked conflicted, while Tasha's lips curled into a smug smile.

"There's the contract. You can sign it." Wendy pointed at the papers.

Before entering, Ixora had discreetly hit record on her phone, tucking it into her pocket with the camera peeking out.

"I didn't agree to sign anything," she said evenly. "This morning you didn't even let me speak. So when exactly did I agree?"

"Auntie..." Tasha whined in a childlike tone.

Wendy glared at Ixora. "You have no choice. Didn't I tell you? Next year."

"Next year?" Ixora's voice broke, anger and despair swirling in her chest. "Everyone here knows the rules - ballerinas debut between 18 and 21. After that, what kind of Swan Princess could I be? I've worked myself to the bone for three years. Every time, you came up with pathetic excuses. And now, you're not even pretending anymore. You're forcing me out."

Wendy's expression hardened. "I pitied you and the orphanage director. That's why I let you study here, among people you don't belong with. Now you want to turn this on me? If you aren't good enough, accept it. Stop blaming others."

"Director, she-" Elisha tried, but Wendy cut her off.

"Enough! I told you not to let her enter the competition. Either she signs, or she leaves. No in-between."

Elisha looked helplessly at Ixora. "Follow your heart. Do what won't shame you years from now," she whispered.

Wendy smirked. "And remember - if you leave, no other academy will dare accept you. No one crosses Star Academy without paying for it. Think wisely. It's just a year. And you're being paid generously for it."

"Senior Ixora," Tasha chimed in, voice syrupy. "Please? Just give me this one chance, okay?"

Ixora's tears slid down her cheeks.

"If you're so rich, why not just go abroad now? Why steal someone else's chance?"

Tasha scoffed. "Me asking you elevates your status already. Aunt, it seems-"

"No need," Ixora cut in, standing tall. "I won't sign. I'll leave. It's obvious I don't belong here." She bowed to Elisha. "Thank you for everything, Teacher."

Without another word, she turned and walked out.

"Stubborn little thing." Wendy slammed the contract on the table. "What's the big deal? I was even thinking of making her a teacher next year."

Elisha clenched her jaw.

"Director, she's-"

"Say one more word, Elisha, and you can leave with her."

Elisha fell silent.

Ixora hadn't gone far when the rain began to fall.

Cold, steady, relentless.

People scattered - some with umbrellas, some running for cover.

She could only stand there, drenched and alone.

I forgot to check the weather...

Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten since morning. For the past three years, Jayden was the one who'd show up with simple, cheap chocolates or warm meals.

Now, even his memory stung like a blade.

The longer she stood there, the more the pain swelled inside her chest.

Two hours and thirteen minutes passed before the rain slowed to a drizzle.

Her phone - soaked through. She hadn't even tried to shield it.

It was the same phone Jayden had bought her for her birthday last year.

Her hand trembled as she stared at it... then, without thinking, she hurled it away.

Everything reminds me of him.

Tears blurred her vision.

"My name is Ixora Laurent..." she whispered again and again.

A name every orphan bore, given by a faceless benefactor no one had ever met.

Isn't today my birthday?

Or just a cruel dream pretending to be one?

She pinched herself.

It hurt.

Diana was working a night shift.

Rita was probably still at the dessert shop.

Her long-held dream of seeing her face on a billboard?

Gone.

She remembered how even getting part-time jobs had been impossible. Too pretty, too tempting. People saw her as a threat to their relationships. One time, a restaurant customer even tried to assault her.

Jayden had saved her back then. Paid her tuition.

And now, there was no one left to call.

She walked aimlessly, the city lights blurring in the downpour.

Her entire life packed into a soaked backpack and a pocketful of loose change.

By the time she checked the time, it was 5:34 PM.

Crest Dessert & Coffee Shop

Rita was wiping down tables.

"Oh, hey - you made it. Latte or Americano?" she called without looking.

"Got anything stronger?" Ixora asked quietly.

"It's your birthday, babe. Hold on, give me a few minutes, I'll be done."

Rita still hadn't looked at her properly.

"Can I use the extra room?"

"Trouble at rehearsal again? Or did Mrs. Elisha pile on more routines?"

Ixora opened her mouth, but Rita grinned and kept going.

"And what did Jayden get you this time? Wait - don't tell me... a proposal ring?"

A tear slid down Ixora's cheek.

"I'll be off now," she whispered and turned away.

40 minutes later.

Diana arrived with their usual 3% alcohol drink.

Rita brightened.

"Where's the birthday girl?"

"Probably practicing. She must've gotten the lead role this year."

"Did she seem okay to you?" Diana asked.

"Why? She was with Jayden this morning." Rita shrugged.

Diana hesitated.

"I'll call her."

A few minutes later, Diana returned alone.

"Music's too loud. She's probably avoiding calls."

Rita frowned.

"Okay, what's going on?"

Diana sighed.

And then she told her everything.

From Jayden's betrayal.

To the academy's cruel scheme.

Rita exploded.

"I'll kill that bastard!" she shouted, grabbing a kitchen spoon.

"Stop, Rita. Her phone's dead. Do you see her bag?"

Rita pointed to a chair.

Diana picked it up.

It was soaked and empty.

"She was out in the rain?"

"She wouldn't. You know she runs a fever if she gets wet."

Rita's voice cracked.

"And she's supposed to perform in two days."

They waited.

Diana eventually left for work, leaving behind a simple gift: a bag Ixora had admired for months.

By 9 PM, the noodles Rita made for her birthday sat cold and swollen.

As she dumped it out, the door creaked open.

Ixora stood there.

Drenched.

Broken.

Silent.

Rita ran over, wrapping her in an embrace.

"Cry, babe. Let it out."

Ixora broke down in her arms.

"Why...?" she sobbed.

"You'll be fine without him," Rita whispered.

Between sobs, Ixora told her everything.

Rita listened, heart aching.

Then she reached for a flyer.

"Here. I was gonna trash this, but... it's an audition. One of our customers left it behind."

Ixora blinked through tears.

"Audition...?"

"Yeah. It's for a dance film about an orphan heiress who lost her sight but kept dancing. They need extras for the dance sequences. It's called Black Swan. Pays 10,000 bucks."

Ixora's eyes widened.

"You serious?"

"Dead serious. Guess it's fate." Rita smiled softly.

Ixora pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank you."

Rita handed her an old button phone.

"Use this. My old SIM's still in it."

Late night.

Ixora made her way home.

Empty streets.

Dark alleys.

She gripped her stun gun.

Almost there.

A hand suddenly grabbed her ankle.

She screamed, kicking frantically.

A weak groan escaped from the figure clutching her leg.

Then - voices.

"Check over there!"

Seriously? Now?

Thinking fast, she dragged the stranger under a discarded rain tarp, covering them both.

Heavy footsteps passed.

After a while, silence.

Ixora sighed in relief and turned on the tiny light on her phone.

Blood streaked the man's face. A deep gash on his temple.

Still breathing.

Somehow, she managed to drag him into her apartment, locking the door behind them.

"Water..." the man croaked.

Not asking. Ordering.

She fetched some quickly, lifting his head into her lap.

As soon as his eyes fluttered open, his hand shot up and grabbed her throat.

Ixora gasped, coughing, gesturing frantically.

Her fingers closed around a vase nearby, and she smashed it against his head.

He collapsed.

"What the hell was that...?" she muttered.

The cold wind slipped through the cracked windows of Ixora's small apartment. She lay sprawled across the floor, exhaustion weighing down her delicate frame. The stranger's faint, shallow breathing was the only other sound in the room, mingling with the steady tick of the old wall clock.

At exactly 3:00 AM, the man stirred.

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing sharp, dark eyes filled with guarded hostility. A dull throb pulsed in his temple as his fingers instinctively reached up to touch the bandage around his head. The room was unfamiliar, dimly lit by a flickering bulb overhead. The faint scent of rain lingered in the air.

He pushed himself up on one elbow, wincing as pain shot through his skull. His hand went to his pocket, pulling out a sleek black phone. One press of a button and the device lit up.

"Send someone to my location," he ordered coldly into the receiver, his voice low, rough, and commanding.

Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call.

His gaze landed on the figure huddled on the floor a short distance away. In the soft, uneven light, her face seemed fragile, almost ethereal. Strands of damp hair clung to her cheek. Even in sleep, her expression was a mixture of grief and exhaustion - the kind that spoke of battles fought in silence.

The man frowned. He wasn't one for sentimentality. Blood and business were the only languages he spoke. And yet, something about this girl made him pause. He didn't even realize he'd raised his phone until the soft click of the shutter filled the room. A photo, a keepsake - though he'd never been the type.

Nico wasn't a man who kept mementos. Or cared for strangers.

And yet she find her Alluring

As he lowered the phone, his sharp eyes swept the room. Sparse, worn furniture, a cracked mirror, peeling wallpaper. The place spoke of poverty and struggle. He noticed a faded ballet poster tacked to one wall - a Swan Princess performance, the edges curled and yellowing. Beneath it, a bag hastily packed lay half-open, a pair of worn ballet shoes peeking out.

The room's single window was partially open, letting in the chill of early morning rain. A faint metallic scent lingered in the air, remnants of his own blood and the storm outside.

He heard it then - the faintest hitch in her breath. A restless shift in sleep. He should leave. His men would arrive any minute, and it was safer for both of them if she remained uninvolved. Yet his feet refused to move.

He crouched beside her, studied the delicate lines of her face. There was no recognition in his mind - she was a stranger, another nameless face in a city teeming with them. But something about the tear tracks on her cheek struck a chord.

Pathetic, he told himself. You've gone soft.

A sharp knock sounded at the door - two precise taps. His men.

He straightened, pulling a thick wad of cash from his inner jacket pocket, tucking it beneath the half-finished first aid kit she'd left nearby. No names. No favors owed.

"I'll repay this debt," he muttered, voice like gravel.

Without another glance, he moved to the door. As it opened, two men in dark coats stepped inside, eyes sweeping the apartment with swift efficiency.

"Clean exit. No witnesses," one murmured.

"No," Nico snapped. "Leave her."

The men exchanged a look but obeyed. With that, Nico slipped into the night, his silhouette vanishing down the stairwell.

4:23 AM

Ixora awoke to silence.

Her throat felt dry, her head heavy. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was or what had happened. Then the events of the night flooded back.

The rain. The alley. The man. His blood.

She scrambled up, heart pounding, eyes darting to the spot where she'd laid him down. Empty. Only the bloodstained towel and bandages remained.

A thick envelope lay atop the first aid kit. Confused, she picked it up. Inside were crisp bills - far more than she'd ever seen in one place.

A simple note was attached, written in neat, sharp handwriting:

For medical fees. Forget you ever saw me.

No name. No number.

Her stomach twisted. She should feel relieved. Instead, an odd hollowness spread through her.

"Who... was he?" she whispered to the empty room.

She set the money aside, not daring to touch it again just yet. Her gaze drifted to the window where dawn's first light painted the clouds in hues of pink and grey.

Somewhere out there, the world was moving on. And so would she.

Wiping her face, Ixora pushed to her feet. She grabbed Rita's old button phone and checked for missed calls. One from Rita.

Aether Entertainment

The casting hall at Aether Entertainment pulsed with tense, electric energy.

Dozens of hopefuls milled about, each clutching number tags, adjusting makeup, nerves barely hidden behind forced poise and bright smiles. In this world, one misstep could cost you your reputation. And Aether was infamous for its brutal audition rounds - your downfall here wouldn't just ruin your career, it would follow you everywhere.

Ixora Laurent sat quietly in a corner chair, number 024 pinned to her chest, wine-red hair tied loosely, deep blue eyes unreadable. The morning sun spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows set her hair aflame, a striking contrast against her pale skin. She wasn't here for fairy tales. She'd stopped believing in those years ago.

It was Rita who pressed the flyer into her hand last night at The Desert shop with a grin sharp as glass.

"Aether's dangerous, but it's your kind of dangerous," she'd said. "Forget Star Academy's petty rules. Here, if you're good - you get it."

And so, on her birthday, when most would celebrate with champagne and cake, Ixora walked willingly into the lion's den also a place where their star are protected and secure.

The Audition

When her number was called, Ixora rose with quiet grace, stepping onto the slick black stage.

A panel of judges watched from below, but it was Madam Lin, silver-haired and cold-eyed, who made the room's temperature drop. Beside her, Elliot Zhao sat in tailored black, Aether's infamous creative director. Barely thirty, with a reputation for talent - and ruin. His eyes were scalpel-sharp as they sized her up.

What are you waiting for, Elliot asked coldly and sharply.

She tense up,she can do it,she practice early, it's just a dance

Ixora delivered the Black Swan ballet routine she'd been assigned, her movements sharp, clean, eerily beautiful. The hall had gone still, though she didn't notice.

As she turned to leave, Madam Lin raised a hand.

"Wait."

Ixora froze mid-step.

A hushed conversation passed between Madam Lin and Zhao. An assistant darted off, tension thickening the air.

Murmurs rippled through the room like poison in water.

Moments later, a breathless staffer appeared, whispering urgently into Madam Lin's ear. The sharp-featured woman's gaze swung to Ixora, lingering.

"There's been an incident," she said, voice clipped. "Our Swan Princess lead, Celeste Ran, was in an accident this morning."

Gasps bloomed in the room like firecrackers.

Madam Lin's expression didn't soften. "You - with that hair and those eyes - you fit the original concept exactly."

Zhao rose from his seat and approached. He circled Ixora once, hawk-eyed, assessing every angle of her face and posture.

"I need more than a pretty face and good feet," Zhao said curtly. "Can you act?"

Ixora lifted her chin. "Yes."she lied, actually it's not a lie also,she was once part of the lead in school drama days,but her passion has always been ballet.

He motioned to an assistant, who handed her a short script - a pivotal confrontation scene from the film's final act.

"Let's see if your mouth can keep up with your legs," Zhao said coldly.

The room watched, hungry for failure.

Ixora inhaled. It's just a character I had to survive,she murmured. Then she began.

Her voice, when it came, was low, measured, the words wrapping around the room with an icy bite.

"I wasn't made to be anyone's shadow. I was made to devour the light."

The entire hall seemed to exhale as one.

Zhao's eyes flickered, and for a fleeting second, something that almost resembled approval crossed his face.

"Final screen test tomorrow," he said. "If you deliver, the role is yours."

The others whispered behind manicured hands. A few glared openly - particularly one tall, sharp-boned girl with jet-black hair and cold green eyes.

Valeria Song, a notorious rival from a well known industry that signed her it's known as "Star Entertainment known for breaking spirits and a daughter of the powerful Song Group that has 50% of Star entertainment shares.

Valeria brushed past Ixora with a smirk. "Careful, Ixora," she hissed. "Girls like you fall hardest." unless you become the next Celeste Ran

Ixora didn't flinch. She was past breaking.

She can't let a mere threat determined her future

Later - The Midsummer Club

That night, the neon glow of Midsummer Club painted the streets in sharp pink and violet. Ixora found Rita at the bar, waving two fingers in the air like she owned the place.

"There she is!" Rita shouted over the thrum of bass-heavy music. "I was about to send a search party!"

"I got the lead," Ixora said quietly.

Rita's drink paused halfway to her mouth. "Wait - what?"

"They switched me in. Celeste had an accident."

Rita blinked, then broke into a grin. "You're kidding me. Holy hell, I told you! Look at you. That face. That hair. Those damn eyes. Born for it, babe."

Moreso, Aether doesn't care about background when choosing cast for their script,all they want is talent and the best

"I haven't even started. Tomorrow's screen test decides everything."

Rita shook her head. "Doesn't matter. You've got the fire now. They can't fake that."

They ordered drinks. Rita rattled off studio gossip, celebrity scandals, a director's divorce. But Ixora's mind kept drifting - to Madam Lin's sharp stare, to Elliot Zhao's ruthless challenge, to the way Valeria's words slid like knives.

Meanwhile - Jayden's Apartment

Jayden lounged on his leather couch, phone in hand, half-watching a drama rerun. A Weibo post caught his eye.

Diana Chen had uploaded a photo collage.

"Happy Birthday, my favorite wine-haired, blue-eyed troublemaker. May you rise like the star you are."

Old photos. School days. A blurry club selfie.

And one image of Ixora holding a casting number.

Jayden's stomach lurched. He zoomed in.

The logo behind her: Aether Entertainment.

His pulse kicked.

He hadn't heard from her in days. More like he deliberately ignored her test and calls,he totally forgot that yesterday was her birthday due to Hera trip.

He tries calling and text her, his calls went nowhere. His texts unread. And now she was at Aether - without telling him.

He called Diana.

"Yo, Jayden. Didn't expect your call," she answered lazily.

"Where's Ixora?"

"Why? You care now?"

"Don't start with me, Diana."

Diana's voice cooled. "She's fine. Better than fine."

"She's at Aether?"What is she doing there,that place is not a playground, Jayden said .

A pause. "I didn't tell you anything."

Click., Diana cut the call

Jayden stared at the ceiling, a gnawing unease creeping in.

His phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number.

"Dinner? Belated birthday celebration? Just you and me."

Jayden smirked, thinking Ixora had finally come around.

But she hadn't., it's Hera same usual excuse.

And he didn't know yet - she'd seen everything.

Elsewhere - Florence, Italy

In a private villa overlooking the Arno River, Domenico Vincenzo Augustos Marchese, known to the underworld as Marchese Nero, sipped his espresso in the morning sun.

His personal assistant, a sharp-eyed woman named Viola Santini, approached with a file.

"Signore Marchese. We have... an unexpected connection at Aether Entertainment."

Domenico raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

Viola slid a photo across the table - Ixora Laurent, frozen mid-audition, hair catching fire in the stage lights.

"A new name, sir. She appeared yesterday. Background unknown, but her face matches the old file you flagged five years ago. The Saviour."

Domenico's gaze darkened. "Investigate everything. Quietly."

"Yes, Signore."

He set down his cup. In the distance, church bells rang.

"Aether belongs to me," he murmured. "And no one moves inside it without my knowing."

But he didn't know yet - Ixora Laurent was already inside.