She Traded Me For A Fraud

The day before the Paragon Guild audition, I found out the selection was already over. My mind went blank as I picked up the acceptance list my mentor had thrown at my feet.

Under the slot for the Principal Romantic Lead, the name Lucas Ward stared back at me in bold letters. My phone buzzed, group chat notifications lighting up the screen:

[Congrats, Lucas! Getting into the Paragon Theater is huge! You're buying drinks tonight!]

[They only took one lead this year, and you snagged it. Incredible!]

[Hey, wheres our resident award-winner? Why is he so quiet all of a sudden?]

[Probably too embarrassed to speak after pulling out of the auditions at the last minute.]

My forehead creased, and my thumbs hovered over the keyboard to fire back a reply, but a private message from my girlfriend popped up.

[Im the one who submitted your withdrawal form. Don't make things difficult for them in the group chat.]

[Lucas really needed this chance, Alex.]

[Youre so talented. You can always audition again next time.]

As I stared at her words, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

A single, silent tear slipped down my cheek.

There wouldn't be a next time.

Before the auditions, my father and I had made a deal: if I didn't make it, I had to pack my bags and come home to take over the family business.

It wasn't just my theater career that was over.

She and I were over, too.

"You skipped the first two years of auditions, and this year you just... withdraw?" My mentor, Laurence, stood before me, the wooden stage-baton trembling in his grip.

"Your junior, who started training years after you, got in on his very first try last year."

"If you didn't want this, you should have told me sooner!"

He slammed the baton onto the hardwood floor. The sharp crack echoed through the empty rehearsal hall.

"Dont call me your mentor anymore. I dont have a student this spineless."

Laurence gave me one last look of utter disappointment, threw his coat over his shoulder, and stormed out.

The spots on my back where hed snapped the baton earlier throbbed with a burning heat, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Limping, I bent down to pick up the discarded baton.

Before I could reach it, a pale, soft hand swept it off the floor. Then, she reached out to steady me.

I looked up.

It was Debby.

"Did Laurence hit you?"

Her eyes softened with concern, her lips parting as if she wanted to say more, but no sound came out.

After a long, heavy silence, she murmured, "Im sorry, Alex."

My fists clenched tight, then slowly released.

The ocean of resentment building up inside me finally distilled into a single, quiet question: "Do you regret it?"

Debby paused, looking away. "No."

"Lucas comes from nothing. This was his only chance to change his life."

"He cant rely on me forever."

"But you... youre different."

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my throat as I pulled my hand from her grip.

My eyes burned with unshed tears.

Two years ago, she told me Lucas wanted to audition for the Paragon Theater. She asked me to give him a head start and skip registering.

I was soft-hearted. I faked an illness to Laurence, sitting out the season.

Lucas failed the audition anyway.

Last year, she took me white-water rafting right before the audition week.

We hit a nasty rapid; I was thrown from the raft, fracturing my leg. I spent a month in a hospital bed, watching the audition window close.

Lucas failed again.

This year, I refused all her invitations, practically living in the studio, perfecting every monologue, every movement.

The competition was so fierce that other actors withdrew rather than go up against me.

But Debby quietly accessed my phone, deleted my call-time notifications, and submitted a formal withdrawal on my behalf.

She even used a burner number to text me a fake audition schedule.

There was only one slot for the leading man. And only one candidate left.

She had orchestrated this entire tragedy for Lucas, completely disregarding my life, my hard work, and my future.

Debby stepped closer, wrapping her arms around me. "Dont be bitter, babe. Youre so talented. Youll have plenty of other opportunities."

"Even without the Paragon, youll still be the best actor of our generation." She leaned up, kissing my cheek. "Lets go home. Ill make your favorite dinner tonight."

I closed my eyes in absolute despair.

She had no idea that the Paragon Theater wasnt like other ensembles. They had a strict age limit of twenty-five for new recruits.

Since graduating college, an actor got exactly three chances.

I turned twenty-five this year.

There were no more chances.

"Just be reasonable," she whispered. "Stop trying to compete with Lucas."

The dam of suppressed agony broke.

I shoved her away.

Ignoring her startled gasp, I pulled up my sweatpants.

My shins and calves were covered in deep purples, faded yellows, and old scars.

"I started training when I was three years old. I haven't taken a single day off in twenty-two years."

"I gave up spicy food, cold drinks, alcoholeverythingjust to protect my voice."

"Everything I did was for the Paragon."

My voice cracked, the veins in my neck bulging.

"You destroyed my career to build his!"

"Every single sacrifice I made... wasted!"

Debbys expression hardened. She watched my outburst with a chilling, detached calm, looking at me as if I were a stranger throwing a tantrum.

After a moment, she spoke. "Are you done?"

"Does it absolutely have to be the Paragon? Are other theaters beneath you?"

I stared at her, utterly shell-shocked. "What did you just say?"

She knew the Paragon was the holy grail for classical actorsthe Juilliard of professional ensembles.

Thousands of actors across the country fought for barely a dozen spots.

In my specific category, it was a one-in-ten-thousand shot.

She had sabotaged me so Lucas could steal it.

And now she was telling me to just go somewhere else.

"Don't you just want a big stage?" she asked, her tone dry.

"I can fund a theater for you. The biggest one in the city. Ill hire a professional production crew and a cast to back you up. You can perform whatever you want, for as long as you want."

A profound sense of exhaustion washed over me.

"Not everything can be bought with your money, Debby," I whispered. "I love the art of theater. I don't want a vanity project"

A sharp ringtone cut me off.

I didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was.

"Lucas."

As she answered, her voice softened instantly. "Yeah. Im on my way."

Before leaving, Debby cast a heavy, lingering look at me. "The results are locked in, Alex. Throwing a fit won't change them."

"Take this year to prepare, and just audition again next year."

The door clicked shut. I was left alone in the vast, quiet studio.

The crushing weight of reality finally broke me, and I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing into my hands.

My phone vibrated. A message from my father appeared:

[Alex, I'm sending a car to pick you up the day after tomorrow.]

With trembling fingers, I typed out a single word: "Okay."

Right as I hit send, a text from Lucas flashed across the screen:

[Hey Alex, I tagged you in the group chat but you didn't reply.]

[You have to come to my celebration dinner tonight! I couldn't have gotten into the Paragon without your help!]

Lucas's celebratory dinner was held at the most exclusive penthouse restaurant downtown.

I didn't need to guess who was paying. It was Debby's doing.

Lucas was a kid Debby had practically rescued from the streets years ago.

Back then, his parents had passed away, and his relatives had kicked him out.

Homeless and desperate, he was sleeping under a bridge.

Debby's own younger brother had died of an illness when he was ten.

For years, she had been trapped in that grief.

Until she met Lucas, who shared her brother's expressive eyes and gentle demeanor.

She transferred all the love and indulgence she had harbored for her late brother onto Lucas.

He had no place to live, so she bought him a condo in the city.

He wanted to study acting and go to the same university as me, so Debby didn't even blink before donating ten million dollars to the school's theater department to secure his admission.

"Mr. Ross, right this way, please."

The hostess's polite voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I followed her to the private dining room.

Even through the heavy mahogany door, the loud, grating laughter inside was unmistakable.

"Honestly, I thought Alex Ross was some kind of prodigy. Turns out he didn't even have the guts to show up for the audition."

"Running away at the last second... If I were him, Id be too embarrassed to show my face in the industry again. Total joke."

"Right? I remember people switching specialties just to avoid competing with him. What a waste."

The laughter grew louder.

My fingers tightened on the door handle.

"Do you think his awards were bought? His mentor is pretty influential, after all."

When I pushed the door open, the room fell dead silent.

Lucas's friends froze, their smiles hardening into awkward grimaces.

I looked at Debby, who was sitting next to Lucas. She didn't look back; she simply raised her wine glass and drank it in one slow, deliberate motion.

As if I were a stranger.

"Alex! Come sit!"

Lucas pulled out a chair next to him, acting as if we were best friends.

From the moment I walked in to the moment I sat down, Debby didn't spare me a single glance.

"Alex, since Im starting at the Paragon next week, could you help me run through the classical repertoire over the next couple of days? I really want to make a good impression on the directors."

Lucas slung his arm over my shoulder.

Getting accepted into the Paragon Theater didn't guarantee a permanent contract.

To prevent nepotism and bribery, the company held a final board review.

They would invite the new recruits under the guise of an "informal meet-and-greet," only to ask them to perform their audition pieces on the spot.

If their technique didn't hold up under scrutiny, the acceptance was revoked.

Clearly, neither Lucas nor Debby knew about this.

I gently pushed his arm off my shoulder. "I dont have time."

I was leaving the day after tomorrow.

In college, I was the one who spent nights drilling him so he wouldn't fail his classes. But this was different.

The Paragon's board review was notoriously ruthless.

For those who earned their spot, it was a mere formality.

But for someone like Lucas, who got in through backroom deals, it would be his undoing.

He had no real passion for classical theater, no natural instinct, and zero work ethic.

Even if I poured my soul into training him, I couldn't turn him into a lead classical actor in forty-eight hours.

A heavy wine glass was slammed onto the table.

The sudden noise startled everyone.

The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence.

"Alex, when did you become so cold-hearted?" Debby's voice cut through the quiet.

"Lucas is begging for your help, and you won't even give him the time of day."

"It's not like you have an ensemble to prepare for anyway. You have nothing but time."

My nails dug deep into my palms. "I said, I don't have time."

Debby let out a cold, mocking laugh. "You always have time to tutor your junior students."

"You're just jealous because Lucas is going to the Paragon and you aren't."

Looking at her, I felt a strange sense of detachment.

The lips that had once whispered sweet promises were now spitting words meant to pierce my heart.

The woman who used to have infinite patience for me was now looking at me with pure disdain.

It felt like I was seeing her clearly for the first time.

Or maybe, I never knew her at all.

A dull, throbbing ache bloomed in my chest.

Lucas tugged on Debbys sleeve. "Debby, please don't argue with Alex because of me."

Debbys brow furrowed, her eyes scanning me with cold annoyance.

"Are you going to help him or not?"

I straightened my posture, meeting her gaze head-on. "No."

"I won't."

Lucass eyes welled with tears as he stood up. "Are you looking down on me, Alex? Just because I didn't grow up with a silver spoon, you think I'm beneath you, don't you?"

Debbys glare turned hostile.

Lucas wiped a tear from his face and ran out of the room.

"Lucas!" Debby called out, immediately chasing after him.

"I don't know why he thinks he's so special."

"Seriously, acting like he's too good for us."

"Pathetic pride."

Once again, everyone left, leaving me alone in the freezing room. Maybe the air conditioning was set too low, but I couldn't stop shivering.

I dragged myself back to our apartment and began packing.

Just as I snapped my suitcase shut, Debby walked in.

She was carrying a takeout bag of my favorite food.

"You didnt eat anything tonight"

Her eyes locked onto the suitcase on the floor.

The takeout bag was thrown into the trash can.

Debby marched over, unzipped the suitcase, and began throwing my clothes onto the bed in a frantic, angry heap.

"Alex, what is wrong with you?"

"Throwing a tantrum and moving out over something this petty?"

I stood there, watching her quietly.

She took a sharp breath, trying to rein in her temper. "Ive clearly spoiled you too much."

I didn't answer. I just bent down to gather the clothes she had scattered.

She grabbed my arm, stopping me. "Do you really have to do this to spite me?"

"What's the big deal about letting him have this one spot? You can easily get in next time."

I gently but firmly pried her fingers off my arm. "Didn't you used to hate cheaters, Debby?"

Debby froze.

Back when we first started out, she used to follow me to every performance. She would guard my dressing room, watch over my costumes, and handle my props with meticulous care.

She knew how ugly the industry could be.

She was always terrified someone would ruin my wardrobe or pull strings to steal a role that belonged to me.

She used to protect my career because she loved me.

But now...

Debby looked away. "Lucass situation is different."

"And besides, your talent is undeniable. You'll get in eventually."

The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

Debby pressed her lips together, her expression shifting to something complicated. "Go to sleep."

The moment she turned her back, a hot, silent tear fell onto the palm of my hand.

The next morning, I bought some premium tea and pastries and went to Laurences office to apologize.

Usually, he arrived early, but today his desk was empty.

After waiting for half an hour, I realized he wasn't coming.

He hadn't forgiven me. He didn't want to see my face.

A wave of profound grief washed over me.

I left the tea and pastries on his desk and walked over to the rehearsal wing.

I unlocked my personal locker.

And my heart stopped.

The locker was completely empty. My performance costumes were gone.

If it were any ordinary wardrobe, I could have them remade.

But one of those costumes was a historic piece gifted to me by Laurence. It was a genuine vintage piece, hand-embroidered with real gold thread, passed down through generations of classical actors.

It was irreplaceable.

My face went pale as I tore the rehearsal space apart, checking every single closet, but there was no sign of it.

Then, a memory flashed in my mindsomething Lucas had said to Debby when they thought I wasn't listening:

"Alexs costumes are so beautiful and expensive. I wish I could wear something like that on the Paragon stage."

Rage surged from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, making my entire body shake.

When I arrived at the studio, Lucas had already put on the vintage costume Laurence had given me. Nearby, on the dirty floor, the rest of my carefully maintained wardrobe was piled up like rags.

Lucas paled, startled by my sudden entrance.

"Alex..."

I marched toward him, but before I could reach him, Debby grabbed my wrist, pinning me in place.

She shielded Lucas behind her.

"Take my costume off. Now."

Debbys brow furrowed, her voice dripping with annoyance.

"You don't even have a performance coming up. What's the harm in letting Lucas borrow it?"

I struggled against her grip, but her hold was ironclad. Rage boiled over, and I screamed,

"He doesn't deserve to touch it!"

"Slap."

The stinging heat on my cheek made my mind go blank.

Debby stared at her own palm, a sudden wave of panic and guilt crossing her face.

"Debby, please don't fight. I'm scared," Lucas whimpered, shrinking behind her.

The guilt in Debby's eyes vanished, replaced instantly by cold hostility.

"Ill write you a check for a million dollars. Consider the costume bought."

Her sheer arrogance made me feel like I was looking at a complete stranger.

"Its not for sale."

I lunged forward, grabbing Lucas's sleeve. "Take it off!"

Debby grabbed Lucas's shoulder, pulling him back into her chest.

"Is this old rag really worth this much drama?"

"Five million."

"I said, its not for sale!"

We were both pulling, and Lucas was caught in the middle.

"Debby, hes hurting me! He's pulling too hard!" Lucas cried.

Debby's gaze turned murderous as she stared at my hand on his sleeve. "Let him go, Alex."

"Give me back my costume first!"

Debby gritted her teeth, using all her strength to yank Lucas toward her.

Seeing the antique fabric stretch precariously, panic seized me.

"Stop pulling! The fabric is going to tear!"

"Let go then!"

I couldn't risk ruining the heirloom. I tried to release my grip.

"Riiiiip."

The exquisite outer layer of the costume tore completely in half.

Debby stared in shock at the shredded antique costume in her hands, then slowly looked up at me.

"Debby, I don't want it anymore," Lucas said, his eyes red as he tugged at her coat. "I can wear a cheap costume. Please don't fight with him because of me."

The anger that had briefly subsided in Debby flared right back up. Her face turned pale with rage, and she ground her teeth. "Fine. I won't argue with him."

She threw her coat over Lucass shoulders. "Go. Change out of it."

When Lucas finished changing, Debby took the ruined, torn costume and threw it directly at my face.

"Fine, Alex. Keep your useless rags."

"Come on, Lucas. I'll take you to get some custom-made pieces."

She took Lucass hand and walked out.

Before they turned the corner, Lucas glanced back over his shoulder, flashing me a triumphant, mocking smirk.

I sat on the floor, staring blankly at the torn fabric in my lap.

My phone rang, breaking the silence.

It was my fellow student, Felix.

"Alex, it's about Laurence..."

My chest tightened. "What happened to him?"

"Laurence went to see his old rivalthe artistic director of the Paragon Theater. Hes begging him to give you a special audition slot."

I couldn't speak through the sudden lump in my throat.

My mentor, a man too proud to ever bow his head to anyone, was swallowing his pride to beg his lifelong rival for my sake.

Tears poured down my face.

I don't remember how I got back to the apartment.

I sat on the sofa, clutching the ruined costume to my chest.

"We're done."

I tried to send the text, but it failed.

A red exclamation mark popped up. Debby had blocked my number.

A hollow laugh escaped me. Seven years of devotion, ended like a childish game of house.

When the game was over, everyone just walked away.

At dawn, the family chauffeur arrived.

"Young Master, the car is ready."