Page 12 of Bewitched By the Phantom
The crowd roars. My girls behind me didn’t seem to notice. But as I stretch back to my feet, my spine is ice and my voice shakes just enough to crack as I sing the chorus again.
I don’t look up for the rest of the song, too afraid of what I might see if I do.
We hit the final notes, and the small crowd goes wild, and I hope the people watching at home do the same. I’m panting with the final scream, my chest rising and falling, adrenaline crashing against my unease inside my chest.
The lights go dark, and Ted gestures for us to leave the stage. I stumble after the girls, my brain telling me to look around but my neck refusing to move. I don’t know what I saw. It was probably just the adrenaline. Nothing more.
“That was fucking epic!” Lydia gushes. “We killed that!”
“Fuck yeah we did!” Claudia whoops. “That was fucking euphoric!” When I don’t say anything, her eyes snap to me. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I rasp, pushing my hair out of my face. “I just need some air. The adrenaline is kicking my ass.”
She nods. “I don’t blame you. Go breathe for a minute. You did fucking phenomenal. I never heard you hit that note so well.”
I slip away from their celebration, not really having anywhere planned but finding myself climbing a flight of stairs shortly after. I don’t know where I’m going. I haven’t been up here before, but I keep going until I find myself in an empty room with a large window looking out onto the stage. It’s hazy from neglect, but that isn’t what has my attention.
It’s the man standing at the window, looking down at the stage.
I scowl. “Are you following me?”
Erik glances over his shoulder. “I was here first, angel.”
“That’s beside the point,” I grumble, crossing my arms. I don’t know why I came to this exact room. Something brought me here, and it pisses me off. “I’ll leave you to your brooding, Mr. Gargoyle.”
He chuckles and the sound stops me in my tracks. “I felt I needed to watch you from here,” he replies. “So, it’s you who led me here. I just kept the beat.”
I narrow my eyes on him, annoyed that his words seem close to how I felt being led up here. “You keep watching me like you own me,” I grunt, stepping further into the room, closing the distance between us.
“No,” he says, smiling behind his mask. “I watch you like I hear you, angel.” He straightens and takes a step closer to me, so that we’re only a few feet apart now. “Like you’re the last note before silence.”
My shoulders tense. “That’s creepy as hell.”
He closes the last bit of distance between us. “That’s honesty,” he whispers.
We’re close now. Too close. My chin tips up so I can look him better in the eyes. His golden mask catches the spotlight beam every so often and sends little glitter around the room. Part of me expects him to lean closer, to make a move, but he doesn’t. He just waits, smiling like he knows I’m just as curious as I am annoyed.
I shove against his chest, splitting us apart, breaking the tension.
He leans in just a little, smiling. “You hit the high notes better than anyone I’ve ever heard, angel.”
I bolt, and I don’t fucking look back. My heart is racing—not from fear, not exactly. I hate that he doesn’t flinch as I rush away, removing myself from the room. I hate that he doesn’t chase after me. I hate that I want to go back and kiss him myself. I also hate that I want to hit him.
I stop in the stairwell, my hand pressed to my chest as I try to calm my racing heart. My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my corset, staring at the flashing message from Phantom.
Brilliant performance, the message says. That’s it. That’s all he gives me.
Grimacing, I shove the phone back into my cleavage and leave the stairwell. Somehow, I feel Erik’s eyes on me all the way down, as if he’s hiding in the shadows. As if he’s waiting for me to step inside the darkness and let him take me.
Crazy thing is, I may just let him do exactly that.
Chapter
Eight
The spotlights are dimmed now. The fog has finally dispelled and left the rehearsal stage. We were all given time to come in and check our equipment, but we won’t learn the results of the voting until tomorrow. The waiting is what’s killing me, and apparently, it seems to be killing everyone else, too.
All except Erik, that is.
