Musical Hearts

Chapter 1.

"... And to all!... a good night!"

Cheering and clapping rang through the dense air around Carmella Cruz. The lights flashed on her as one of her songs started to play in the background. Everyone sounded so happy, looked so happy. She looked happy. But was she really? Maybe that was something she didn't know herself.

Slowly, Carmella grabbed her gold and shiny award off the stand. A reward for the most streamed album of the year. The award she'd worked her whole life for. And here she is. Shouldn't she be happy and smiling? Did she feel happy? Was she smiling? Now she felt empty. She'd spent her whole life working towards this, and now she'd succeeded. But it didn't feel worth it without someone by her side. She was so alone in so many things and this was her getaway. But now that she'd reached this goal, she had nothing else to work for.

Carmella snapped out of her thoughts when the lights went out with her still onstage. She had meant to walk off moments ago and had gotten lost in the swirl of thoughts that ran through her head. She shuffled off the stage in a hurry to get back to her car. Sure, she had millions and multiple cars and houses and drivers. But she was more down to earth than most.

She walked out and grabbed her keys from the pocket of her jacket. Pressing the red button firmly and listening to the sweet sound of her red Toyota unlocking for her. She approached the car with the slightest smile on her face. The first time she'd smiled genuinely that night. Her dark, wine red dress dragged behind her and small droplets fell onto her arm. This caused her to hurry more and finally reach her car. Normally she'd stay at ceremonies like these to congratulate people for winning awards as well, but she didn't feel like holding herself together that night. Carmella simply wanted to get home, change out of the glittery sequin dress, shower, get her pounds of makeup off, and curl up in her sheets with her full white cat, snowella.

Carmella opened the car door, careful not to hit her door against the expensive, sleek and shiny, BMW that was parked next to her. She shrugged, distaste appeared on her face as she looked at the car. She hated big and fancy sports cars. People who bought them paid for the brand and not the actual car. A car could be shit but if it looked nice, some dimwit would buy it.

It was simply marketing, a strategy that lured fools in to buy looks instead of use. And Carmella hated that. She looked at quality, not quantity, and made direct choices. Which was one of the reasons she owned a simple Toyota instead of an expensive branded car such as other celebrities.

Carmella forcibly pulled herself from her thoughts when she'd looked at the time. Currently, in Vegas, it would be a good 20-minute drive back to the hotel she was staying at. Her home was in a long cabin somewhere in the boonies of Wisconsin. But this year, the ceremony took place in Vegas. She hated big cities like that, all the lights took away from the beauty of the stars. She wanted to go home, but if she were to drive, that'd be a lot of gas money. Not to mention how long of a drive it'd be. Maybe 16 hours, especially since she brought her cat with her. Multiple stops would be needed and multiple hours of sleep, otherwise Carmella wouldn't be able to function.

She sighed and adjusted the mirror in her car for her sight and then jammed her key into the car to start the ignition. Watching as all the little lights turned on, and the voice welcomed her. She always thought it was weird, but she was comforted by it that night. Then, she put her foot on the pedal and put the car in 'Drive'. Desperately trying to find a way out of the packed parking lot.

Carmella returned to her hotel after finding her way through the parking lot and the mess of traffic. She was now lying in her bed with her white cat, she was snuggled up in her sheets until her door burst wide open. The TV played in the background, and she remembered a series of screams until it all went dark.

Carmella opened her eyes again but still saw the dark, it was quiet now. A hand over her face, but she couldn't see two inches in front of her. Someone from behind her shushed her. Her eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dark as hands were placed on her. Every little touch felt cold instead of warm. Her brain was running through scenarios of whom these people could be. Did she piss anyone off? Did she get involved with some people she shouldn't have? Did someone take the lyrics to her songs seriously?

It was serious to think about. If she said something remotely relating to someone at a higher tier in the music industry than her, it could end badly. She'd written heart-wrenching lines in her songs. But there was one song she wrote about a heartbreak with another singer. He wasn't much larger than her, but she also hadn't kept tabs on him. As if you're supposed to keep tabs on your ex.

Maybe he'd grown bigger than she'd expected. He finally had a way to get back at her? The music industry works in many different ways.

There were many rules when it came to working in the music industry: don't create unneeded drama, don't flaunt or be problematic, and don't kill anyone. That one was optional compared to a few rappers she could name. There was this one saying she'd heard people use sometimes. "Kill people with your lyrics, not guns." Could she have accidentally done that?

Carmella was soon pulled back into reality when a small sliver of light appeared where the door could be. Maybe she could find a way to get out of the grasp of these people. Though it was unlikely, she was a scrawny woman who went to the gym once and considered her New Year's resolution fulfilled for the year... Maybe she should pick back up on that.

She heard voices from behind her. Whispering and their grip on her getting tighter to the point it was painful. She clenched her jaw to hopefully shield some of the pain from getting to her. She never had good pain tolerance. Level 2 cramps would leave her bedridden during her time of the month. She even had this type of phobia from pain.

The sliver of light kept growing in size until the door was completely open. But some of the light created a silhouette of a tall man. Skinny, muscular, maybe six feet two inches. Long hair that went past his ears, not unbelievably long, but longer than most. His hands were against the door frame, and a little bit of light showed on his face. He looked to be Italian.

Carmella was about to speak when he spoke before her. Which proved her suspicions that he was Italian because of his accent.

"Carmella Euro?"

Carmella's face melted into confusion and concern. Not for anyone else but for herself. Nobody knew her last name, she used a fake one as a stage name. Her last name wasn't even online last time she checked. This man knew her last name. Her full name. How could he figure that out? Her brows furrowed, hugging closer to her eyes than they should've. The man was still holding her back from the figure at the door. This definitely wasn't how she was expecting her night to turn out.

"Nice to meet you, young lady. You'll be coming with us now. Forcefully."