Page 35 of Bewitched By the Phantom
“Hey,” I say as I step up close to him. “Claudia said you were looking for me.”
He peers up at me and his eyes light up when he takes in my baggy t-shirt and yoga pants. But the moment passes quickly, happiness giving away to worry almost immediately. “Yeah. I was hoping to talk to you.”
“What about?”
He sets his guitar down to the side and stands to his full height, towering over me like the giant he is. “Walk with me.” He gestures for me to follow him, so I do.
We stroll side by side for a ways, leaving behind the common area to trail down one of the smaller hallways. It’s quieter over here, too early for most of the bands to be meandering about. Raoul was always an early riser. Me? Not so much.
“So . . .” I say when he doesn’t immediately say anything.
“So . . .” he repeats with a smile. “I . . . wanted to talk with you. About . . . us.”
I stop dead in the middle of the hallway. “What do you mean? What about us?”
My heart begins to beat wildly in my chest. It’s not anticipation. It’s more like anxiety. I’d hoped we would be able to put this off for longer, but clearly, he has other ideas.
“First, I should apologize for yesterday,” he murmurs. “I was being an asshole, and it makes sense you’d lash out at me. I had no business attacking you like that.”
“You’re not wrong,” I grunt. “I’m sorry if I hurt you with my words.”
“I deserved it,” he shrugs, before sighing. “But that’s not what this is about. Not exactly.”
“So then, what is it about?” I ask, staring up at him carefully.
“You know how I feel about you?—”
“We haven’t seen each other in ten years, Raoul,” I remind him. Part of me thinks that’ll convince him of something, maybe that he doesn’t really know me. Not anymore. I’m not the same kid I was. I’m jaded now, bitter, darker. I don’t belong in the same sunshine I used to, but when Raoul looks at me, it’s clear he thinks I do. Which is why I’d hoped to avoid this. I know Raoul has always liked me. I know he’s maybe carried a torch for me all these years. But I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t know if I can be the woman he wants me to be. I don’t even think I’d want to be.
“And in all those years, my feelings have never changed,” he says, his eyes on mine. He reaches for my hands and envelopes mine within his. “Chris, I’m not asking for a declaration of love. I’m just . . . asking for a chance.”
I wince. “Now really isn’t the time?—”
“Just a chance,” he presses. “That’s all I ask of you.”
I peer up at him. “And if I can’t give you that chance?”
His eyes flicker. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Things are just up in the air right now. This competition. Life. I don’t?—”
“It’s because of him, isn’t it?” he grunts.
I frown and play dumb. “Who?”
He shakes his head. “We both know you’re not that oblivious, Chris.” He crosses his arms. “The singer of Cadaver Cantata. Erik.”
“He has nothing to do with this?—”
“He’s bad news, Chris,” he growls. “Tell me you know that.”
I pinch my lips. “He’s just a man, Raoul.”
“Is he?” he asks. “Is he really just a man?”
“Of course he is. What else would he be?” I scowl.
Raoul hesitates, his eyes flickering to the darkness beyond where we walked. “What if . . . I told you he isn’t.”
