Revenge to The Devil

Chapter 71: The Contract

"Whatever requirements you have, I can meet them all," he promised.

"What do you want?" I said.

He looked at me sincerely, then he said, "I just want to offer the chance to those who can't afford expensive tickets, to experience it."

It was so moving that I was almost touched by him.

I raised my head and smiled unkindly, "Only if you record it, will I agree to it."

"It's a deal," he said.

"What!" I was surprised.

The next day, when he came to me with the contract, I was overwhelmed. I'd read the contract several times and there was no reason to refuse it.

I could just perform the music and needn't attend to do any advertising or interviews. I didn't even have to publicize my true name. During the three-year contract, I could participate in any performance or competition at free, and their company would not interfere.

They paid me a huge sum, just for the recording. Of course, they owned the copyright to make CDs and to sell or publicize it in the media. I didn't even have to make or do any photoshoots.

"If you are ok with it, we hope to take a picture of your shadow playing the piano at the seaside. If you are unwilling, we could generate it by the computer," Shawn said.

He handed me the pen and I signed the contract with my big signature. "You will be paid a lot for it, I can afford it," Shawn assured me. Later, I felt a bit bad for expecting so much money.

What confused me the most was that he invested not only money but also time on me. However long I recorded in the studio, he would listen to it from the beginning to the end; he even ate lunch at work with us.

Although he was wealthy, he was easy-going with the staff. Sometimes during a break, he would come to talk to me about music. After working together for one month, we became familiar with and discussed deeper topics.

He told me that his mother was a musician who knew little of the music world, however, she had not performed since marrying his father. He had liked the piano since he was a child, but because of his family's situation, he was doomed to ever become an artist.

He also asked the reason that I loved the piano so much. But I smiled in silence, and he didn't continue asking any more questions.

Once the recording was finished, I continued my school life. One day, I was browsing the internet in the dorm, I liked a page, and I saw a picture. It was my figure that was taken at the seaside.

I was sitting in front of a white piano, barefoot, my dress submerged by the waves, with my black hair and white fabric dancing in the wind. Below the photo, there were dozens of comments.

Everyone was wondering about the appearance of the woman, whether she was charming or ugly. Some said that it didn't matter, what mattered was the soothing music. Curiosity is our greatest weakness. The more mysterious something is, the more attention it attracts.

After looking through the comments, I couldn't help calling him. I told him," Others say it doesn't matter what you look like. What matters is the music."

Then I joked with him, "Mr. Donovan, will your company go bankrupt?"

"Soon!" he said, "In return, can I invite you to play a few songs at my birthday party, to make up for my huge financial loss?"

"I told you that I would perform for those who pay me," I reminded him.

"No problem! Your price?" he asked.

"Because you are the boss, I'll do it for free. Just tell me the time and the place," I held the phone between my shoulders and took the pen out of my bag.

"Hilton Hotel, next month, the ninth," Shawn said. My bag and pen were sliding away from me.

I had never asked about how much money Shawn had, or the businesses he ran. But I knew the Gardens Hotel was his since his office was in the penthouse suite.

The thought flashed through my mind and I bent down to pick up the bag on the ground, while talking on the phone, "It is a pity that I have classes and no time to leave."

He said, "Where are you? Let me play a piece of music for you, you will like it."

I thought about it, then said, "Slow Coffee, near my school."

"Wait for me. I'll be there in ten minutes," he said.

I went into the cafe and sat by the window. Before I spoke, the waitress smiled and said, "A glass of blue mountain?"

"Thank you!" I replied.

"It has been a long time since you last came here," she said.

"I've been busy lately," I told her. The coffee was served quickly, the familiar aroma spread through the air.

I didn't know the reason he cherished blue mountains compared to other kinds of coffee. But I soon understood why, the unique difference between the Blue Mountains and others was that it was not only sweet and bitter, but it had a moderate sour taste.

The more I tasted it, the mellower the sour taste became. I saw my figure reflected in the glass window. It was like the situation two years ago, I was innocent to think that love should have a happy ending like in a fairy tale, or an inevitable misery like in the song, Butterfly. Therefore, I knew that love sprouted from the wrong beginning. But I continued the love to the end.

I still regretted his way of letting me go. And I always thought that if he had given me another chance, we may have had a happy ending. Two years passed, having experienced the break-up and made peace with my friends and classmates, I understood his love.

The separation was for him, so he dared not to look at me for a second when leaving the hospital. True love is not always about staying together but letting one another go. When I bent my head to stir the coffee, my calm mood was disturbed. It could be regarded as a perfect ending for those of us who were destined to separate.

There was an ending to our love story. But we missed and blessed each other when we were separated by the ocean. It was the reality of true love, people loving each other couldn't stay together, while people who didn't love each other could integrate because of their interests.

However, life was still colorful.

"What are you thinking?" It was Shawn's voice.

"Nothing! I'm just wondering if I had an obligation to make up for your huge financial loss." I turned around to look at him, his eyes were full of zeal.

"Look at this first," he said, "This is music composed for a film by a famous composer. I just listened to it, it was made for you especially. And it is only you who can perform this pathetic music well," he said.

I turned it over curiously, and the flying notes hit my soul. The sentimental melody conveyed a bleak message to people's hearts. "I have talked with the music producer of the movie, and they are seeking people to write the lyrics and add in a cello and some other string instruments. If it's convenient, you'd better come back to the studio to record the song," Shawn suggested.

"Mr. Donovan, you have done enough for me," I pushed it back to him and said, "That music deserves a master to perform it."

"It is not for you. What I have done is for myself, because…" he stared at me, his eyes shining with unwavering belief, "I love you!"

"I am married," I told him.

I looked at him calmly, he was not as shocked as I thought he would be. After a moment of surprise, he relieved his brows to think about it rationally.

"Did he pass away?" he asked.

"No," I said.

I switched my sight to the window, it was grey and cloudy outside. We lived in two isolated spaces, it was no different than being separated by death.

"I believe that if he were alive, he would not have left you alone!" Shawn said.

I revealed a wry smile and shook my head. "Would he? I was tossed aside by him several times," he said.

Although it was uncertain who was hurt the most.

"Have you ever wondered how he would feel if he saw you now?" 'he said slowly.

"I'm fine now," I insisted.

"Fine? In the restaurant, I watched you on the second floor, what you concentrated on was the empty seat. Do you know how heartbreaking your voice was when you were on the phone? "I just hope you are happy, no man would not be moved by those words," said Shawn.

"If there is nothing else, I'll go first," I picked up my bag to stand up, but he blocked me away immediately.

"If you love him, show him your dazzling charm. Let him know that you have a brilliant future without him. Don't refuse me," he said, "Even if you don't love me, I still appreciate your talent."

I stared at him when he left, only to find his body was so broad.

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