Phantom (2 page)

“Let the music touch your soul.
Let the darkness make you whole.
Do not fear what is unknown.
Your true path has now been shown.
Listen to the words I sing.
Embrace the peace that night will bring.”

As he continued to sing in his deep but somehow angelic voice, Rebecca found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. With every line, her heart began to beat faster. She truly felt the arms of night wrapping her in a warm embrace. She could almost feel the hands of the phantom glide along her body as the words poured forth. The music caressed her. It possessed her—mind, body, and soul. Each word left her longing, yearning for more.

She was gawking so obviously, it was hardly surprising when Justyn felt her eyes on him and steadily met her gaze. She realized her mouth was hanging open in stunned awe, and she quickly snapped it shut. His lips moved into just a small hint of a smile. He never took his eyes off her while he sang the final verse, making her cheeks flush to the point that she felt almost feverish. It wasn’t embarrassment but excitement, arousal even, which was sending her mind spinning in so many directions.

 When the song was over, and Rebecca had recovered just a hint of her composure, she couldn’t help but burst into a healthy round of applause. A few scattered people joined in, including Debbie and Carmen after she nudged them in the ribs. But only Miss King seemed to truly appreciate the brilliance of his talent as much as Rebecca did.

“That was amazing, Justyn!” The teacher gushed.

“
Lord
Justyn.” He corrected as he stepped down from the stage.

A few others complimented him as well, but he took it all in stride. In fact, his serious expression never faltered as he stepped down from the stage. He seemed almost bored, like it was all he could do to hold back a yawn, despite the smiles and words of encouragement.

But not everyone in the crowd was pleased as Justyn glided down the aisle, so ethereal in his dark garments that he still resonated the spirit of the Opera Ghost. Miss King might have been excited about the newest male addition to her cast after being limited for many years, but Tom and his group of boisterous companions glared at him as he passed them by. Jay sneered and tossed a balled up piece of paper in Justyn’s direction, but the Goth was quick, and caught it in his hand without missing a beat.

“I think you dropped something,” he said.

His speaking voice was no less melodic than his singing voice, but something about his tone made Rebecca shiver. He tossed the paper back at Jay, who was nowhere near as coordinated as Justyn. He practically fell off his seat in his efforts to catch it.

“Hey, vampire,” Tom called when Justyn began to walk away. “Are you sure you can handle the competition?”

Justyn smiled, a cool, sarcastic half-smile, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are
you
?”

Miss King didn’t notice the short confrontation, and Justyn vanished from the auditorium as quickly and mysteriously as he had appeared. Only Rebecca had noticed the very real tension between the two boys. She wondered if it was a bad omen for them to start off the production with hard feelings and envy. That could only lead to trouble. The kind of trouble that could end with someone getting hurt. The kind of trouble that Rebecca would do whatever it took to avoid.

Chapter Two

“Settle down, people! We’re ready to move on to the girls’ auditions!” Lots of hooting followed Miss King’s announcement. “Carmen Webber, you’re up first.”

Carmen bounced onto the stage nonchalantly, no more perturbed than she would be walking up to the lunch line in the cafeteria. She didn’t look nervous at all. Rebecca didn’t know how she did it. Nothing fazed her. Rebecca wished she had half her confidence.

Carmen gave a fair performance followed by four underclassman of varied inadequacy. But their singing ability wasn’t nearly as important as the fact that they had all been going to dance school for as long as they could walk. Their voices would blend well enough for the choreographed dance scenes that they would undoubtedly appear in. Rebecca wondered if she would wind up in the chorus as well. She shuddered at the thought of trying to move in graceful synchronized motions with two-dozen other girls. Her idea of graceful was making it the whole day without walking into any walls.

Even worse, what if she ended up lost behind the scenes as a stagehand, lugging around heavy props and missing half the show in the process? She should have stayed in the orchestra. At least there she would have been guaranteed a part in the music that she loved. There was no telling what was going to happen to her now.

“Wendy Wright!” called Miss King.

“Snob alert,” Carmen whispered.

Wendy all but skipped up to the microphone. As far as confidence went, Wendy was brimming over with it. She wasn’t so much auditioning as she was warming up for the final encore of her senior year. Her wide smile implied that she had no doubt that she would star alongside Tom, just as she had for the past three years. She
did
have a beautiful voice, and coupled with her stunning mane of thick blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, she was certainly everything that a blooming starlet was made of. She was the obvious choice for the role of Christine. Anyone with eyes could see that.

Wendy made it through almost the entire audition
without once faltering, a feat all the other girls had been unable to accomplish. But when she came to the end of the piece, she made a valiant effort but was unable to hit the full range of high soprano notes. Her voice cracked towards the end of the scale. She glared over at the orchestra as though they had penned the score themselves, instead of just following along with the music on the sheets in front of them. But when Miss King seemed unfazed, Wendy regained her momentary loss of composure. The director waved her hand in careless dismissal.

“Don’t worry, dear. We can improvise if we have to. Those notes are next to impossible for anyone who hasn’t been professionally trained.”

“She hasn’t heard
you
yet,” Debbie whispered with a conspirative grin.

Rebecca swallowed hard. No, Miss King hadn’t heard her yet, and Rebecca wasn’t sure she ever would. Maybe it wasn’t too late to sneak out a side door. But even as she thought it, she knew her trembling legs would never be able to carry out the command. How was she ever going to go through with this? How could she think she would succeed where the perfect Wendy Wright had failed? She couldn’t! She couldn’t do it. And she didn’t have to. At least not yet.

The next few girls were horrible. Yet, Rebecca found herself wishing their auditions would never end, because as the number of people in the seats dwindled, the closer she came to her own performance and possibly her humiliation.

“Debbie O’Neil!”

Rebecca knew she couldn’t leave now. She couldn’t fail to offer the same kind of unconditional support to Debbie that her friend had shown to her throughout the last few weeks. She had gone back and forth for weeks, trying to decide whether to stick with the orchestra or actually try out for a role. Carmen had been great too, but it was Debbie who had really boosted her confidence enough to give her the strength to write her name on the tryout list, right below Debbie’s.

Oh God
—Her name was right below Debbie’s. That meant that she was going to be called next! Even if she wanted to escape, she couldn’t be rude enough to walk out of the auditorium when Debbie was about to begin her performance. That would be unforgivable.

Rebecca was almost relieved to see that Debbie also looked nervous as she carried her stocky frame up the steps to the stage. She was glad she wasn’t the only one who didn’t think it was second nature to face down a room full of smirking teenagers. Debbie struggled with her weight and her abnormal height, so she had always been a little shy. But her voice was almost as good as Wendy’s. She usually landed at least one of the smaller, secondary roles in the school’s productions.

Debbie sang well—better than well, revealing a rich, firm voice. But she had no more luck than Wendy when it came time to reach the highest notes. Her voice faltered and cracked. When the song was over, she returned to her seat with a slight blush to her cheeks.

“Don’t worry,” Rebecca told her encouragingly. “Even Miss King said she doesn’t expect any of us to hit those high notes.”

Debbie smiled. “Why don’t you get up there and prove her wrong?”

“Rebecca Hope!”

When Miss King called her name, Rebecca felt her stomach do an unmistakable triple somersault. She wondered how she had ever thought a little coward like her would have the nerve to do something like this. She was the bookworm, the nerd, the invisible woman. She wasn’t an actress. She wasn’t good enough to play Christine. She wasn’t even good enough to be a chorus girl.

“Is Rebecca Hope here?”

Miss King called her name for the second time. When she still didn’t move, Carmen forcefully pushed her out of her seat and into the aisle. Rebecca wasn’t sure her legs were strong enough to carry her to the stage, which suddenly seemed a million miles away. So instead of walking she clung to the armrest of the corner seat.

“You can do this,” Carmen insisted. “Have a little faith in yourself.”

Rebecca took a deep breath and nodded, forcing her heavy legs to carry her down the walkway, up the three steps and onto the threatening stage front. And that was the easy part. Once she was there, looking down at the dotting of faces spread out along the rows of the auditorium, the real panic started to set in. She thought she might start to hyperventilate. She was gripping the base of the microphone so tightly her fingers had turned white.

“Are you ready, Becca?”

Rebecca didn’t answer. She
couldn’t
answer. Her tongue suddenly felt thick and heavy and she couldn’t quite remember how to make it work anymore. She tried to tell herself this was no different than singing along with her CD in the morning, but she knew that wasn’t true. Despite her better judgment her eyes scanned the crowd. She noticed Wendy’s smug smile, and Carmen and Debbie’s concerned frowns. A little further down, Jay was making obnoxious faces, and even Tom was rolling his eyes. No one seemed to have any faith that she could possibly succeed, including Rebecca herself.

It was then she noticed a dark figure emerge in the very back rows of the auditorium. Justyn Patko watched from the shadows. He watched just as the phantom must have watched Christine at her début performance. Watched through eyes that held her entranced by their intensity, but at the same time filled her with strength and courage. Again, Rebecca had the surreal feeling that she had somehow stepped back into the past. She
was
Christine, and the figure watching her from the shadows was Erik, a dark angel of music, nodding his head in approval. Rebecca felt the stage fright melt away as though it had never been there at all.

“I’m ready.”

The orchestra, led by the delicate strokes of the piano, gradually stirred to life. Rebecca continued to focus on Justyn, until the music began to envelope her in its sweet melody. She merged with it, yielded to it, allowed it to possess her until her voice rung out strong and clear, matching the beauty of the instruments. She sang with the passion and the love she felt for the amazing work of art she performed.

“When the time comes for us to part,
Carry a piece of me within your heart.
Let our memories carry you far.
Think of me when you wish on a star.
Our love will be a fond memory,
Carried through all eternity.”

Each operatic rhyme rang clearly and fluidly through the wings of the auditorium. Each note resonated in the perfect key and a rich fluid tone. Each word was filled with pure, heartfelt emotion. It almost seemed she was listening to someone else entirely as the song streamed from her lips.

Finally, she approached the final verse of the aria—the part where all other voices had failed. She had managed the difficult scale a thousand times in the safety of her bathroom shower. But would she be able to do it here, in front of an audience of her peers? Not even Justyn’s still penetrating stare could help her face
this
challenge. Rebecca closed her eyes and with her voice soaring but unforced, she sang the final lines of the ballad.

“Time may pass, the memories grow dim.
But I’ll be in your thoughts in a passing whim.
You will never be completely free.
You can never let go of meeeeeeeeeeeee.”

She had delivered the complete aria perfectly, even the dramatic high-ranged notes at the end of the sonnet. With a smile of well-earned accomplishment, she looked into the audience and found a wide variety of stunned faces staring back at her.

At first, she had the horrifying feeling that she had deluded herself. Perhaps she was horribly out of tune, tone deaf to the extreme, and the people who sat speechless simply couldn’t begin to express their disgust. Rebecca’s heart began to pound with familiar nerve-racking fright as she waited several long seconds for some kind of response. She was rewarded for her patience when she was greeted by a surprisingly loud round of applause considering the small number of people who were present.

“Rebecca Hope!” Miss King exclaimed. “It is absolutely scandalous that for the past three years you’ve hidden
that
voice behind a mediocre violin ability! That was beautiful . . .
spectacular
. . . really, I’m at a loss for words.”