Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 143

"How is center stage not the best spot?"

Kate stood behind Celeste, admiring the way her pale gold gown complemented her figure. She let her fingertips graze Celeste's silky dark hair. "Ever thought about trying some curls?"

She didn't wait for an answer.

Kate was already beckoning the stylists over.

"Celeste's look is too understated. When those stage lights hit, her makeup will just vanish."

"She's got such a lovely canvas to work with—you all need to do her justice tonight."

The stylists lit up, eager to get started.

It didn't take long.

Celeste soon emerged, her hair cascading in gentle waves that framed her delicate face. The makeup highlighted her features, making her eyes seem even more striking. When she looked up and smiled softly, she seemed to have stepped straight out of a Renaissance painting.

"Well?" she asked.

"Absolutely perfect! Darling, if you'd just let yourself be seen a bit more, I could make you a superstar," Kate gushed, never one to hold back praise.

Celeste turned away, catching her own reflection in the mirror. It had been ages since she'd worn stage makeup.

Her time with Philip had made her forget so much.

The faint vibration in her ear when she played the violin.

The gentle thud of her fingertips as they danced across piano keys.

Now, dressed in her concert gown, the memory of those melodies rushed back, wrapping her in a sense of calm.

"Oh, and here's the mask you asked for."

Kate handed it over.

Celeste accepted it quietly, slipping it on to hide her face.

Kate led her through the dim backstage corridors and up onto the stage, shielded by the heavy velvet curtain. As the bright lights washed over her, she took her seat with a familiar poise… as if nothing had changed.

"Ugh, my stomach hurts," someone muttered nearby.

Celeste glanced over—it was the cellist, suddenly looking pale.

"We don't need the cello until the second half. Take a break and come back from backstage when it's your turn," Kate instructed smoothly.

A murmur rippled through the dark.

All eyes turned in unison.

Celeste, too, noticed the commotion. She looked out, searching the crowd.

Across the sea of faces, their eyes met.

Alfred stood at the entrance, his gaze calm and unwavering as it found her instantly.

In that moment, Celeste felt utterly exposed, as if he could see right through her.

She almost looked away, nearly missing a note.

Their eye contact lasted only a heartbeat.

Alfred's eyes lingered on her as he quietly took his seat, as if nothing had happened—except his gaze never left her.

Halfway through the piece, the cellist still hadn't returned.

Kate's nerves began to fray. The other musicians shrugged helplessly. During a brief interlude, Kate caught Celeste's eye and blinked frantically—Save us!