Then the beat dropped. It was wrong. Not a pop hook, but a thrum that made Ellie’s chest tighten. Her bedroom lights flickered. On her phone screen, the waveform began to move before the sound reached her ears.

The message pinged on Ellie’s phone at 11:47 PM: — a link, no context, from an unknown number.

The lyrics shifted: “Easy lover… she’ll download you, too.”

The track didn’t have a cover art, just a gray waveform. She pressed play. A synth pulse, low and humid, then Miley’s voice—slower than she’d ever heard it, almost a whisper: “You think you know the game… but you’re the prize.”