Echoes of Tomorrow:2015

The 89th Academy Awards was an entirely different solar system of fame. The Grammys had been a party of talented, ambitious peers. This was the pantheon. The Dolby Theatre thrummed with the weight of cinematic history, and Alex, at seventeen years old, felt like a kid who had snuck into a museum after hours.

Echo Chamber had made its presence known. Their table wasn't just Alex and Olivia; it was a small, defiant island of new-guard cool amidst the old Hollywood establishment. Billie was there, a captivating paradox in a gothic, floor-length lace gown that was both elegant and subversive. Finneas sat beside her, looking sharp and proud. Khalid, effortlessly suave in a velvet blazer, radiated a calm confidence. And Harry, making his major awards show debut, looked every bit the burgeoning rock god in a flamboyant, custom-tailored suit, exuding a charm that had cameras flashing every time he turned his head. They were Alex's family, his team, and his most fervent supporters.

When Alex and Olivia walked the red carpet, the rest of the Echo Chamber crew followed, creating a memorable, much-photographed tableau of music's new royalty invading film's most sacred night. Inside, they settled in for the long, tense, and glittering affair. The camera frequently cut to their table, a fascinating study in contrasts—the pop mogul, the Disney star, the avant-garde icon, the R&B smooth-talker, and the rock-and-roll supernova, all waiting to see if their young leader would conquer this new world.

Midway through the show, the stage lights softened to a deep blue as the actors performed "City of Stars." The entire theater was held in a moment of hushed reverence. At their table, Billie leaned over and whispered to Finneas, "Okay, that's actually a heartbreakingly good song," a rare, unironic compliment from her. Khalid just nodded slowly, a look of deep appreciation on his face. Harry watched with the focused intensity of a student, analyzing the performance, the stagecraft, the magic of the moment.

Finally, near the end of the long night, the award for Best Original Song was announced. As the clips from the nominated films played, the tension at the Echo Chamber table was thick enough to cut with a knife. Olivia's hand found Alex's under the table and gripped it tightly. Finneas had a hand on Billie's shoulder. Khalid leaned forward, his eyes glued to the stage.

The presenters opened the envelope. A shared, joyful shout: "And the Oscar goes to… 'City of Stars' from La La Land! Music and Lyric by Alex Vance!"

Their table exploded.

It wasn't a polite clap; it was a visceral, joyous eruption. Khalid leaped to his feet, letting out a massive whoop, pulling a stunned Alex into a fierce hug. Harry was on his feet too, clapping wildly and shouting, "GET IN, LAD!" Billie, for once, shed her mask of cool indifference, a massive, genuine grin splitting her face as she and Finneas both wrapped their arms around Alex in a chaotic group hug. Olivia, her face already streaked with happy tears, threw her arms around his neck. "YOU DID IT! OH MY GOD, YOU DID IT!" He gave her a quick, ecstatic kiss on the cheek as she pushed him toward the aisle. "Go! Go get it!"

A visibly dazed Alex made his way to the stage, the thunderous applause of the theater roaring in his ears. He shook hands with Damien Chazelle and Ryan Gosling as he passed, his mind a blur. He found himself standing at the most famous podium in the world, an impossibly heavy golden statue being pressed into his hands.

He looked out at the sea of legendary faces and then found his own table. He saw his friends, his artists, his family, all on their feet, their faces alight with pure, unadulterated pride. That single image cleared his head. This wasn't just his win; it was theirs.

"Wow," he began, his voice laced with a genuine, youthful awe. "Um. Okay. I… I have a list of people I'm supposed to thank, but I'll speak from the heart instead."

"First, thank you to the city of Los Angeles," he said. "This is a city for the artists, for the lovers, for the fools who dream. This is for them."

He gave a heartfelt thank you to Damien Chazelle for his "insane, brilliant vision." He thanked the producers. Then, his tone softened.

"This song is about the choice between love and art, and the dream of having both. I want to thank my family, my mom and dad. And I want to thank my entire team at Echo Chamber…" His gaze swept over his table, pausing on each of them—Billie, Finneas, Khalid, Harry. "...my brothers and sisters in this crazy dream. Your belief in me is everything." He then found Olivia's face, a beacon in the glittering crowd. "...And I want to thank the incredible woman who proves to me every single day that you don't have to choose. You can have both."

He lifted the Oscar. "Thank you."

The speech was met with a warm, sustained ovation. Backstage, his phone immediately exploded with text messages, but it was the real-life congratulations that mattered most. The whole Echo Chamber crew mobbed him the moment he stepped off stage, a chaotic, laughing, tearful group hug surrounding him and his new golden statue. His Grammy wins had made him a powerhouse. But this Oscar, celebrated with his entire chosen family watching, felt like a true coronation. He wasn't just a hitmaker anymore; he was an artist whose work was now, officially, immortalized.