The Sound Of Love

Lately, everything seemed to hang in the balance, like a delicate thread stretched too thin.

The morning had passed in silence, with only the sound of Mia Thompson moving about the apartment and the occasional hum from the refrigerator filling the space.

She sat on the couch now, her hands resting on her growing belly, her fingers nervously tracing circles on the fabric of her oversized sweater.

Her dark curls, usually wild and untamed, were pulled back into a messy bun, her caramel skin glowing faintly in the dim afternoon light.

The loose maternity leggings she wore were soft against her swollen legs, but nothing could comfort the weight she carried inside, not just from the baby, but from the fears gnawing at her heart.

Every time she closed her brown eyes, she saw the bills piling up, imagined the future, wondered how they’d make it.

Her boyfriend, Noah Harper, had left early in the morning, chasing the music dream that had once excited her, but now, it filled her with dread.

When he walked back through the door, his lean frame casting a shadow across the room, he looked worn but hopeful.

His locs were tied back with a simple band, the ends brushing against his neck as he moved, and his faded band t-shirt clung to his slender body.

He had that same rugged charm she had always loved, his deep brown skin glowing with a natural radiance, but today, all she could see were the struggles in his eyes.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice tighter than she intended.

"Out, working on something," he replied, setting his keys on the counter and walking over to her.

He adjusted the chain around his neck as he approached, the old leather jacket he wore creaking softly.

"What’s up?"

She looked up at him, tears forming before she could stop them.

"I can't do this; I can't keep pretending everything’s fine. The baby is coming soon, and we can’t live on what you're making. The world is changing so fast; people are using AI to make music now. You know how competitive it is. What chance do you really have?"

"I get it, I do. But I need you to listen to me, just for a second." He waited until her tear-filled eyes met his. "I have some good news."

"What do you mean?"

"A famous musician is coming to town, someone big. He’s putting on a concert, and he's looking for local talent to open for him. They picked me." He let the words sink in, watching her face for any sign of relief. "This could be my break... and the pay, it’s good. It’s really good."

For a moment, she just stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.

Then, slowly, her lips trembled. "Really? You’re not just saying that?"

"I wouldn’t lie to you."

She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest as he held her tight.

After about a minute, she pulled back, wiping her face. “What do you want for lunch?”

He shook his head, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"No need to worry about that. I’m heading to Mom’s to tell her the news."

"Good luck," she whispered, kissing him softly before he left.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across the front yard as Noah pulled into the driveway.

He walked up to the door and knocked softly before pushing it open.

Inside, the smell of something cooking greeted him, and the warmth of the small, modest living room hit him with an odd sense of comfort and anxiety.

“Mama,” he called out, and before long, Sarah Carter appeared, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

She was shorter than him, her dark hair streaked with gray, tied back in a simple bun.

Her deep brown skin was marked with the lines of age, though her soft eyes still carried a warmth he had always known.

She was wearing a floral-print blouse tucked into loose jeans, the kind of casual clothes she always wore when she was cooking or cleaning.

“There’s my boy,” she smiled, walking over and pulling him into a tight hug.

He hugged her back, feeling the love in the embrace, but also a twinge of guilt.

She’d been through so much, raising him mostly on her own, and he knew she worried about him more than she let on.

“How are you doing?” she asked, pulling back to look him over. “And how’s she doing?”

“She’s alright. You know, some days are harder than others with the baby coming soon. But we’re managing.”

She raised an eyebrow, catching the strain in his voice but didn’t push further.

"Come on," she said, gesturing toward the kitchen and he followed her.

"Do you want lunch first, or are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?"

“Let’s sit first,” he said, sitting down. “I’ve got good news.”

Just as he settled into the chair, he heard something, a faint scuffling sound from the back of the house.

“What was that?”

His mother glanced towards the hallway quickly before looking away, a forced smile on her lips.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just the cat pushing things around again. You know how she gets.”

He nodded slowly, but something about her tone made him uneasy.

“Alright, so, there’s this big musician coming to town,” he began, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. “And he’s asked for some local talent to open for him at his concert. I got picked. This could be my big break.”

He waited, expecting her eyes to light up, but instead, her expression faltered.

She sat back in her chair, her hands resting in her lap as she sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if this doesn’t work out? What if the concert gets canceled or you don’t get the break you're hoping for? You have a baby coming soon. You can’t rely on luck to raise a family. You need a real job. I know you’ve been working so hard, but sometimes, dreams aren’t enough.”

“What if she has a miscarriage? What if I die tomorrow? We can’t live by ‘what ifs’ all the time. Everything is luck. Every day we wake up is a gamble. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know you’ve lost things, but don’t lose hope.”

She looked away, and he could see the pain behind her eyes.

“Bringing me up was luck, too,” he added, his voice softening. “But you managed. And you’ll see, good things come. Just don’t worry so much. I’ll make it work.”

He reached over and hugged her tightly, feeling the tension in her body. After a long pause, he pulled away, looking into her eyes.

“My music career will work out. And I’ll raise this kid with the money I get from it.”

Just then, a figure appeared at the edge of the kitchen doorway. His father, Richard Harper.

He hadn’t heard the man approach, but there he was, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Noah’s face hardened instantly, and he shot up from his chair. “What are you doing here?”

Richard was a broad-shouldered man, his hair graying at the sides, with the same dark brown skin as Noah.

He wore a wrinkled shirt tucked into old, worn jeans, and his face held the tired, almost weathered look of someone who had been through too much.

His voice was deep and calm when he spoke. “I’ve been here... with your mother.”

Richard had been out of their lives for years. He had gone to jail for the first five years of Noah's life for crimes he had committed, and after being released, he didn’t return to his family.

He just disappeared. No calls, no visits, just vanished from their lives.

Now, he was trying to find a way back into his mother’s life, but Noah couldn’t bring himself to forgive the man who had abandoned them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Noah said coldly, his eyes narrowing.

“I know I wasn’t there, and I regret it. But I want to help now. I don’t think you should pursue this music career. I’ve seen how tough the world is. You need something solid, something that will really provide for your family.”

Noah laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re saying that like you know what’s best for me. Like you’re some expert in raising families. Just shut up.”

“And why are you letting him back in?” His eyes flicked toward his mother, who sat quietly, her head bowed. “After everything, why are you allowing him into your life again?”

She didn’t answer, just kept looking down at the table, unable to meet his gaze.

“I’m leaving.”

Sarah looked up quickly. “Won’t you even have lunch?”

“I’m not hungry anymore. And don’t bring him to the concert. He’s bad luck.”

Without waiting for a response, he stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving his parents in the tense silence of the kitchen.

On the day of the performance, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in deep hues of orange and pink.

Noah left the apartment early, kissing Mia on the forehead before slipping out the door.

He’d told her to meet up with his mom later, and the two of them could head to the concert together.

They promised to be there, front row, cheering him on.

That thought alone kept his excitement bubbling under the surface, even though he felt the weight of the day pressing on his chest.

When he arrived at the venue, a small outdoor arena that could barely hold a few thousand people, it was already buzzing with activity.

Roadies setting up the equipment, sound engineers running final checks, and a few early arrivals trickling in.

The local artists, like him, were hanging out backstage, mingling and trying to calm their nerves as they waited for the big headliner who had yet to arrive.

He took a moment to breathe it all in, the noise, the energy, the faint smell of street food from nearby stalls, it all felt surreal.

This was what he had dreamed of for so long, and now, it was right in front of him.

As the hours ticked by, he managed to snap some pictures with a couple of the bigger celebrities who had arrived for the show.

They were cool, polite, and encouraging.

He even managed to get one of them to shout him out in a quick video that he posted to his social media, tagging it with a hopeful caption: “Big night, big things coming. Thankful for the opportunity.”

It wasn’t long before the notifications started lighting up his phone, friends, fans, and family alike hyping him up. That brought a brief smile to his face.

The organizers were rushing around, talking into headsets, and ushering people into their places as the concert drew closer.

Time moved fast, but slow at the same time. It was that kind of anxious wait where everything blurs until you realize the moment is almost here.

About half an hour before his performance, his stomach was doing flips. He needed something to ground him.

“Hey, is it cool if I take a quick look? Just wanna see where my family are sitting,” he asked one of the stagehands.

The guy hesitated for a second, scratching his head. “Man, I don’t know. If people see you, it might be a whole thing, you know?”

“I just need a peek, that’s it. Won’t even step out all the way.”

“Alright, but make it quick.”

He slipped towards the curtains, just enough to crane his neck and look out into the dimming light. The concert wasn’t packed yet, but there was a good-sized crowd forming.

He scanned the front row and then he saw them. Mia, sitting beside Sarah, both of them smiling, talking with each other.

Mia looked beautiful in a flowing sundress that made her belly more noticeable. Sarah was in her usual casual getup of jeans and a simple blouse, her hair pulled back.

He felt a swell of love and pride seeing them there, ready to support him.

But then, just as he was about to pull back from the curtain, his eyes caught a third figure sitting beside them. Richard.

The sight of him sitting so casually beside his mom made his blood boil.

The man who had abandoned them, the one who only came back when it suited him, was now sitting there like nothing had ever happened.

It felt like a slap in the face.

One of the other performers backstage must have noticed the change in his expression because they clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You good, man? You look a little pale. Nerves?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to stay calm. “I’m cool. Just getting in the zone.”

The other guy nodded, satisfied with that answer, and left him to his thoughts.

Finally, the MC strode onto the stage, grabbed the mic, and hyped up the crowd with his booming voice, sending waves of excitement through the audience as the energy soared.

He went through the usual speech about supporting local talent, thanking the crowd for coming out, getting them pumped for the main act.

His name would be called soon. He could feel the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. The MC paused for a moment, then looked down at his cue cards.

“And now, folks, we’ve got one of the best up-and-coming local artists you’ll ever see. Give it up for…Noah”

The moment his name was called, it was like the world stood still. All the anxiety, the nerves, the weight of everything on his shoulders suddenly felt lighter.

The crowd roared in approval as he walked out, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. It was blinding, but in the best way.

The music kicked in, and he started to perform, his voice rising over the beat. The adrenaline surged through his veins as he moved across the stage, letting the rhythm take over his body.

People were cheering, clapping, shouting his name, it was everything he’d ever dreamed of.

All the struggles, the sleepless nights, the countless rejections, none of it mattered now. This was it. He was finally making it.

Suddenly, in the middle of his song, something shifted.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the front row. Richard was talking aggressively to those beside him. His throat tightened.

His voice wavered, just for a second, but he pushed through and kept performing.

But then, Richard started moving.

It was subtle at first, like he was heading to the bathroom or something.

But no. He wasn’t walking away from the stage; he was walking towards it.

He tried to keep going, tried to focus on the music, but he couldn’t. His eyes were glued to his father, who was now climbing onto the stage.

The crowd was confused, murmurs rippling through them as they watched the scene unfold.

Then once on top of the stage, Richard, his father, lunged at him.

Before he could react, before he could even step back, Richard’s fists were crashing into him.

The first punch landed squarely on his jaw, and the pain exploded in his skull like fireworks.

He stumbled back, dropping the microphone, but Richard was relentless. Another punch—this time to his stomach, which knocked his breath out of him.

“Quit your music! It won’t get you anywhere!” his father screamed, spit flying from his mouth as he grabbed him by his throat.

He felt his father’s hands wrap around his throat, squeezing, cutting off his air. He clawed at his father’s arms, panic rising in his chest as he struggled to breathe.

The world around him started to fade, the lights growing dimmer, the sounds muffled.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the pressure was gone. Security had finally rushed the stage, prying Richard off him, but it felt like it had taken forever.

He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. His body was shaking, trembling uncontrollably, but he couldn’t stop it.

The pain was everywhere, his face, his ribs, his throat, it all hurt, but none of it compared to the ache in his heart.

He felt broken, like everything he had worked for was shattered in an instant. All the hope, all the dreams, gone.

Sarah and Mia rushed onto the stage, their faces streaked with tears as they knelt beside him, calling his name, touching his face, trying to comfort him.

But he couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t process what was happening.

Finally, the paramedics rushed in, quickly lifting him onto a stretcher and carrying him away from the chaos.

The ride to the hospital felt like a blur, flashing lights, sirens, the sterile smell of the ambulance.

Sarah held his hand the entire time, her grip trembling but firm.

Mia sat quietly, her eyes swollen from crying, staring down at his limp body. He lay there, barely moving, his mind racing in a whirlwind of pain, anger, and confusion.

When they arrived at the hospital, the doctors quickly rushed him through a series of tests, X-rays, CT scans, checking for internal injuries.

His body was bruised, his face swollen, but the doctor finally came in after what felt like hours and told him, "You'll be alright. You’re lucky, no fractures, just some swelling and bruising."

Lucky. He wasn’t sure if he felt lucky at all.

Once Sarah and Mia were allowed inside to see him, they found him lying in the hospital bed, his face turned away from the door.

Sarah rushed over, sat on the bed but didn’t say anything.

A few seconds later, he turned, his voice weak and cracked, "Why do you think he did it?"

Sarah shook her head, her voice breaking, “I don’t know. I’m so sorry for bringing him back into our lives. I thought he had changed, that he really wanted to make things right… I never thought he could do something like this.”

He closed his eyes, still crying, his chest aching not from the physical blows but from the betrayal, “It’s okay. You’re too good for him. He was just using you, like he always did. He’s a monster…”

Mia stood nearby, her own tears falling silently as she watched the exchange, feeling the overwhelming sadness between mother and son.

After a long moment, they all began to compose themselves. The air in the room felt heavy, filled with all the unsaid emotions.

Mia wiped her eyes, pulling out her phone, and glanced down at the screen, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Hey," she said softly, “the concert didn’t end when you left.”

He looked up at her. “It didn’t?”

“No, it went on. I’ve been checking online… there’s actually something amazing happening right now.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

Mia held up her phone, showing them the screen.

There it was—a crowdfunding campaign for his medical bills and… another concert organized by people for him to perform.

While in the hospital, Mia had posted online, clarifying what had happened, explaining that it was his father who attacked him, and not some fan or rival.

“They’re raising money for you. And… they want to see you perform again,” Mia said, a light shining in her eyes.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this,” he muttered, his voice shaky. “I don’t even know if I should be happy about this.”

Sarah lightly patted his arm, “You should just rest, baby. Get better first. We’ll figure everything else out later. You’ve been through enough today.”

He nodded weakly, the exhaustion starting to take over.

“Where’s that monster?” he asked quietly, looking at Mia.

“He’s been taken to jail. They’ve opened a case for assault, so he won’t be able to come near you, especially not here.”

A small, weak smile crossed his face at the thought of that. His father, locked up. The way it should have been all along.

A few days after his discharge from the hospital, life was beginning to settle, at least outwardly.

His fans had organized a concert, set to take place in a few weeks, and the media had turned him into a symbol of resilience.

Interviews showcased the struggles faced by artists like him, while articles delved into his complex relationship with his father.

As support poured in, the concert evolved into a celebration of not only his talent but the strength of the community that had rallied behind him.

Noah and Mia sat in their small rented house, the quiet stillness around them a strange contrast to the storm of emotions they had been through.

There peace was interrupted by Sarah’s call which he picked up quickly.

“Hey, Mom,” he greeted warmly. “What’s up?”

“Sweetheart, you need to come home. Fast.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Just… come. You’ll see when you get here.”

"Is he back?"

“No, no, he’s still locked up. It’s something else… just, please, come home. I can’t explain it on the phone.”

He ended the call, his hands trembling slightly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” he said, standing up and grabbing his keys. “She just told me to come over. Something’s wrong.”

“I’ll come with you,” she offered, starting to stand as well.

He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “You need to rest. Especially with the baby... I’ll be quick. I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on.”

She nodded reluctantly and he kissed her forehead and left.

When Noah arrived at his mom's house, he found her anxiously sitting in the living room.

She looked up at him, worry etched on her face.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice thick with concern as he rushed to her side. “Is everything okay?”

She didn’t answer at first but eventually pointed toward the laptop sitting on the table.

“Go read the email.”

Confused and anxious, he slowly made his way to the laptop. Sitting down, he saw that an email was opened.

The subject line read: “To My Wife.”

A wave of unease washed over him as he began to read:

“Hi Sarah,

I’m writing this knowing you’ll receive it days later, after everything has happened. The reason I attacked our son on stage wasn’t out of anger or hatred.

It was because I wanted to help him.

I knew that if I did this, the internet and the world would sympathize with him, and he’d finally get his chance to shine as a musician.

People love to root for the underdog, and by making myself the villain, I knew he’d get the exposure he needed.

I know we were starting to rebuild our relationship, but our child is more important than anything.

That’s why I sacrificed what we had for him. I just hope it all worked out the way I planned.

Please don’t tell him why I did this. If he finds out, he might act emotionally and ruin his own career.

I love you and I hope, in time, you can forgive me.”

As he finished reading, his chest tightened. The room seemed to close in around him.

His father had done all of this… on purpose? To help his career?

Tears welled up in his eyes as he slowly stood up, turning to face Sarah, who was now watching him intently.

“Why… Why did you show me this?”

“I couldn’t live with it. I couldn’t… I had to show you. He wasn’t the man you thought he was. He… he loved you, in his own messed-up way.”

His heart pounded in his chest, anger rising, mixing with confusion, sorrow, and disbelief.

He proceeded step out of Sarah’s house, the door creaking shut behind him.

As he left, she understood he needed time alone, so she didn’t bother speaking to him.

The crisp air seeped into his bones, mirroring the emotional storm within him.

The drive to the police station felt like a burden, bringing back memories of his father marked by longing, anger, and a deep sense of abandonment.

When he reached the entrance of the station, he took a deep breath and walked up to the guard at the front desk.

“I’d like to see my father,” he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The guard, a seasoned man with a face hardened by years of dealing with the lost and broken, replied. “What do you plan to do?”

“I just want to talk.”

The guard scrutinized him closely, and after a moment of hesitation, said. “Alright. Follow me.”

His heart raced as they walked through the sterile hallways, the harsh glow of fluorescent lights amplifying the bland surroundings, making him feel like a ghost haunting the echoes of his father’s choices.

The guard stopped in front of several cells, pointing to the last one.

"Good luck," he muttered, stepping away as Noah made his way toward it.

When Richard saw him, he spat, “Go away.”

“I know.”

Richard’s eyes widened in shock. “What do you know?”

“Mom showed me the email.”

A moment of silence enveloped them, the weight of unspoken words pressing down like a thick fog.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Noah couldn’t hold back any longer. “If you loved me, why did you make those stupid decisions? Why did you do that crime and end up in jail? And why didn’t you come back once you got out?”

Each question hung in the air, heavy with the trauma that had plagued Noah for years.

Richard’s expression shifted, the bravado fading as he sank into a nearby bench, his face contorting with regret.

“I did the crime because your mother was pregnant with you,” he began. “I didn’t have any money. I thought if I could just pull it off, I’d be able to take care of you both. I was desperate. But I got caught, and I ended up here.”

As Noah listened, the pain of Richard’s choices cut deeper than he anticipated.

“Once I was out, I promised myself I wouldn’t come back until I was financially stable,” Richard continued, his voice filled with shame. “But with my criminal history, getting a job was impossible. Weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. I didn’t want to be a burden to you and your mother.”

“You should have just come back,” Noah’s voice rose, his emotions spilling over. “It’s not all about money! I needed a father figure, a presence. Instead, I got nothing, no guidance, no support. I was raised as if you were dead, while you were still here!”

Richard looked down, remorse etched into his features.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “If I could go back and make things right, I would. I deserve everything that’s happening to me right now.”

Noah sighed. “No. I won’t let you go to jail because of me.”

“If people know that I did it on purpose to make you go viral, they might cancel the show and think we scripted everything. You might even get canceled for good.”

“I’ll say it,” Noah insisted. “If it ruins my career, so be it.”

As Noah turned to leave, Richard called out. “Think about your child.”

Noah paused, the reminder cutting through him like a knife. He had spent so many years trying to fill the void left by Richard’s absence, but now he was faced with the possibility of perpetuating the cycle.

He left the station and drove back to the small house he shared with Mia. The door creaked open, and he found her waiting for him.

“What happened?” she asked, rushing to his side.

Noah took a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He attacked me on stage because he thought it would help my music career…... He predicted the world would sympathize with me.”

“What?”

“Yes,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “But I have to tell the world the truth, I won’t be able to live with the thought that my music career was born out of a lie.”

“What if it ruins everything?” she asked, a note of panic in her voice. “Your music is taking off right now! We’re finally gaining traction. Why risk it?”

“He is a repeat offender,” he calmly said. “I can’t let someone rot in jail because of me.”

She fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between them.

With that, he set up his camera, his heart racing as he prepared to speak. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, staring into the lens as if it were a lifeline.

“Hey, everyone,” he began, his voice shaky but determined. “I need to talk about what really happened at the concert. The truth is, although my father’s actions were planned, they came from a place of wanting to help me. The TLDR of it is that, he knew by assaulting me, I would go viral and this would help my music career. But…. its more complicated than that.”

He continued to share the full story of his life, the emotions raw and unfiltered, revealing all the twists and turns.

After posting the video, the couple waited in tense silence, their hearts pounding as they refreshed their feeds, hoping for a positive response.

Minutes later, the comments started rolling in.

“This is so brave of you!”

“Your dad made a mistake, but he was trying to help!”

“Sending love to your family! Can’t wait for the concert!”

An hour later, people pledged to pay for Richard’s bail. The realization hit Noah like a wave, and he could hardly believe it.

Without wasting another second, he dialed Sarah. The phone rang twice before she answered.

“Noah?”

“I just posted the truth about what Dad did at the concert. I told everyone that he attacked me because he thought it would help my music career.”

“And... how did people react?”

“They’re reacting better than I ever imagined. They have even started to donate his bail. I—I can’t believe it.”

Sarah let out a breath, one filled with both relief and disbelief. “I didn’t think anyone would ever understand his actions…. I thought everyone would hate him for it.”

“Me too,” Noah admitted.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the gravity of the situation hanging between them.

Noah could almost hear the tears in Sarah’s voice when she finally broke the silence.

“Once your dad’s out, I want you to come home. We need to sit down together as a family and talk this through.”

Noah nodded as she spoke, even though she couldn’t see him.

“Okay,” he replied and hang up.

On the day Richard was released, Noah and Mia drove to his parents’ home. As they approached the door, Noah felt the weight of the moment settle over him.

He took a deep breath, knocked and walked through the door, spotting Richard sitting on the couch with Sarah beside him.

The sight of them together felt surreal, and for a moment, they all just stared at each other, emotions swirling in the air.

Then, without a word, Richard rose and opened his arms. Noah stepped forward, and they embraced tightly.

As they hugged, Noah felt the warmth of forgiveness starting to seep in, even as the memories of abandonment lingered.

For a moment, Mia watched from the sidelines, her heart swelling at the sight of their reunion.

But then she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around both.

Sarah joined them, and soon they were all locked in a collective embrace.

They held on, soaking in the connection, knowing that healing would take time but feeling hopeful for the future.

On the day of the concert, the atmosphere was electric. Noah stood backstage his heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Richard, Sarah and Mia stood at the front of the stage, ready to cheer him on as he prepared to perform.

The concert kicked off with several other artists, each bringing their unique flair to the stage.

Noah soaked in the energy of the crowd, feeling the anticipation build as he waited for his turn.

In the days leading up to the concert, the internet buzzed with speculation about how Richard had come up with the idea for the infamous incident.

Noticing it trending, Noah decided to keep the momentum going by announcing that Richard would address the burning question during the concert, further heightening the excitement.

When it was finally time for Noah to take the stage, he stepped up to the microphone and said, “Hey everyone! Thank you so much for being here tonight. I first want to invite my dad to the stage to answer the question that’s been on everyone’s mind for weeks. Please welcome my dad!”

The crowd erupted in cheers as Richard climbed the stage and Noah handed him the microphone.

Richard took a moment, looking out at the sea of faces before him.

“Hello, everyone!” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want to take a moment to thank you all for the incredible support you’ve shown my son.”

“There’s been a lot of buzz about where the idea to make my son go viral came from. The truth is, I got the idea from wrestling. In wrestling, for the good guy to really get loved by the crowd, he has to face a very, very bad guy. So I decided to become a real-life bad guy to make my son the biggest good guy in the world.”

The crowd reacted with cheers and laughter, and Noah felt a swell of pride for Richard’s boldness.

“My goal was just to push my son into the spotlight, but in the end something incredible happened, something that doesn’t even happen in wrestling. We both became good guys!”

Richard concluded with a heartfelt thanks, and the audience roared with applause.

Once Richard stepped off the stage, he took a deep breath and began his performance.

He poured his heart and soul into every note, every lyric, and the crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers, singing along as they connected with his music.

After the concert, he was approached by representatives from major recording labels who offered him deals on the spot.

His mind raced with possibilities, but he politely declined, telling them he would think about it. For now, he wanted to enjoy this moment with his family.

As they drove home together, Noah felt a sense of peace wash over him. The journey hadn’t been easy, but they had made it through the storm together.

As they reached their home, he knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it as a family, united and unbreakable.

The end.