Page 24 of Phantom
We already had auditions and, while I thought Jilliana sort of half-assed hers, I know she would do anything for this position. After being the star of the show for a night, I’ve realized that although I love the theater spotlight, just like this dress, it’s not exactly the right fit.
The truth is, I don’t want to be the lead in this opera. More and more lately, I’ve realized writing my lyrics is where my heart lies. My own words, my own music, my own stage. I’m not sure what to do with that revelation, especially since one lead performance has turned my mental state on its head.
“What the fuck am I going to do now?” I mutter.
“Um… get out of my way, for starters.”
I jump at the lovely soprano voice, tinged with anger, and immediately move to the side so Jilliana can check her dress—my old dress—in the mirror.
“Sorry Jilliana. I didn’t realize you were there.”
She huffs. “Of course you didn’t. You’re too busy blackmailing the director into kicking me to the curb.”
Monty sent us the announcement this morning via email since he’s still nursing his hangover. I’ve been dreading the moment I would see Jilliana ever since. I’d selfishly hoped she’d stay sick for at least a few more days. I’m silently cursing my luck until Jilliana’s accusation finally hits.
My eyes widen in my reflection as I gape at her. “What did you say?”
She shrugs a shoulder, her natural red, perfectly ironed curls fall effortlessly over her shoulder and I twirl one of my wild ones self-consciously.
“You’re blackmailing Monty into making you Marguerite.” She stops examining her dress in the mirror and turns to me with crossed arms. “Do you know how much I’ve had to sacrifice to get that spot, only to come down with a damn stomach bug the night casting directors from all over the country came to visit?”
“Casting directors were here last night?”
Jilliana’s brilliant green eyes flare. “Oh my god, you didn’t know?” She scoffs. “You didn’t know, and still sang the best performance of your life. That’s… infuriating if I’m honest. Monty and Maggie are meeting with some today to talk about casts for their upcoming shows. Where have youbeen,Scarlett? Do you even care about your future, or are you just stealing the spotlight for your own amusement?”
Heat rises into my cheeks and I know my light skin is beet red. But she’s right, I’ve been going to Bordeaux, fulfilling the dream my father wanted—the oneIthought I wanted. Since I achieved a taste of it last night, I’m truly at a loss for what’s next. I’m more confused than ever as to whether I want to do anything theater related, or whether I’ve been hiding in my understudy position, too afraid to take charge and audition for the main character in my own life.
“Listen, Jilliana, I swear I didn’t blackmail Monty. I don’t even know where his letter came from. I was at Masque along with everyone else when it was delivered.”
Jilliana’s face scrunches in thought before she sighs. “Okay, fine. I guess that was a little far fetched. It’s just weird that whoever the sender is said to keepyouas the lead. Like, why would they care? Besides, I think I’m more mad about Monty rolling over like a wet dog after everything I’ve done for—”
Her mouth clamps down and I frown.
“What have you done, Jilliana?” I ask quietly.
Her eyes glisten and she shakes her head with her lips tight. I’ve known Jilliana for years but we’ve never been close. Still, my heart hammers at the distraught look on her face and every girl code alarm is blaring loudly in my mind. I glance around the fitting room before taking her hand.
“Follow me,” I order and lead her through the dark recesses backstage. My room isn’t far away, so it takes us no time to get there.
Once I do, I shove us inside and close the door.
My room is slightly less messy since I cleaned up this morning, but the couch is still covered with my costumes from closing night. I point to my makeup chair for her to sit while I perch on the arm of my couch.
“Okay… talk to me. Did you do something for Monty?” At my question, Jilliana’s gorgeous full red lips thin so much that they whiten and I rephrase the question. “What has Montymadeyou do?”
The change in wording seems to strike a chord and that bottom lip begins to wobble. Realization kicks in. I’ve always heard rumors about how Jillianaearnedher role as Juliet after her crappy audition. That one day wasn’t her best, but she’s an amazing singer and a phenomenal actress. I never doubted she deserved the role, but I did doubt the rumors.
Until now.
“Oh, Jilliana…” I lean my shoulder against the wall and hold myself back from hugging her. I know what it’s like to feel violated, so I refrain from comforting her physically until I know how she wants to be consoled. “Does he… does he hurt you?”
She wipes her cheeks as tears spill down them and shakes her head vigorously. “No, nothing like that. He just, um, said that if I wanted the role I had to…showhim how much I wanted it. On my knees.”
Disgust for that awful man slithers over my skin. “What a fucking pig.”
“Right? That’s what I said… but then he told me that if I didn’t do it, he’d tell everyone I came ontohimand that I’d get kicked out of Bordeaux.”
“Jilliana, youhaveto tell Maggie. She’s the assistant director and can tell her husband—”
