Arthur slid the copyright transfer agreement across the studio console, demanding I surrender my masterpiece, "Starlight Echo", to his wealthy fiancée, Chloe. She casually used my treasured lyric manuscript as a coaster for her coffee. I was being sold off so Arthur could secure record resources from her father. I refused to sign and chose to walk away. The immediate price was burying four years of misplaced love and facing a brutal industry slaughter, as Arthur's PR machine instantly branded me a deranged extortionist and blacklisted my name. He did not know I secretly held a U.S. Copyright Office registration certificate stamped two years ago. But as an isolated, invisible producer crushed by a capitalist monopoly, could I survive long enough to prove who the real creator was?