Waltz with Me (A Phantom of the Opera Phan Fic)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: He's Starting With the Man in the Mirror

There was only a few hours left until opening night in New York. Then it would be five more performances till the tour left for Philadelphia. It was exciting, high paced, thrilling, and full of life all around the theater. Everyone was on top of their game, and everyone was excited to be back in New York.

In NYC during the first performance every year, there was a group of high end agents that came. That was enough to make everyone push to be the very best in whatever skill it was. For Genesis, she wasn't too thrilled about doing Point of No Return in front of potential employers of higher status.

There was the jitters, but there was also the fact that she didn't have a partner anymore. That was what was really making her nervous.

As she stretched, warming up for the last rehearsal before that evenings performance, Mr. Firmn walked up to her. Genesis looked up, standing straight to greet him. "Morning, Mr. Firmn."

"Good morning, Genesis. I'd like you to meet your new replacement for the last dance number you're in. Luke Hartfield." Mr. Firmn gestured to the young man about nineteen in age who stood behind him.

Luke was about five, eight in height with dark brown hair that seemed spiked in front. He had dark blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled, and rosy cheeks. It was as if he was always energetic and willing to attack a new project. He stuck his hand out quickly, smiling at Genesis. "It's an honor to be working with you, Miss Augustin."

Genesis blushed slightly, taking his hand and shaking it kindly. "Please, just call me Genesis. It will be an honor to work with you as well, Luke."

Luke nodded, letting go of Genesis's hand and motioning for the stage. "Shall we begin then?" He asked softly.

Genesis smiled. "Sure. The more practice the better. I'm still a little unsure about my footing with this piece anyway."

"Oh, it'll be simple. Just take my lead." Luke chuckled, placing his hand on Genesis's waist and leading her out onto the stage.

Jett had been standing a far distance off nearer his room. His hands were balled into tight fists, and his knuckles were turning white with how tightly he was compressing them.

"So...a new fop arrives to take my Christine..." Jett hissed through gritted teeth.

"You mean our Christine...?" A voice asked in his head.

Jett scowled. "What does a dead man want with a living, breathing dame as her?" He whispered more to the voice.

"Have you forgotten our covenant, my boy?" The voice growled like a demon, and a searing pain shot across Jett's heart.

He hissed, grabbing at his shirt and diving back into his room. Jett locked the door, rushing, wobbling over to the mirror that sat on his dresser. He stripped of his shirt, looking at a glowing emblem that resembled a skull on his chest near his heart. It burned with a fire greater than that of hell. It scorched the skin, causing a fowl aroma to pierce the air.

Jett bit his lip before a scream of pain could escape his mouth. "I have not forgotten..." He growled, grabbing hold of the burning mark. He pounded his other fist against the dresser, tears filling his eyes.

"You are my slave! Do not think your heart owns you! I own you!" The voice barked, finally letting the pain subside slightly.

Jett gasped for a clean breath, looking up at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes widened at what he saw. It couldn't be...it shouldn't have been. It was him. The voice which mocked and taunted him when he failed. Not his father, not his worst enemy. No...it was the Ghost of Operas Past. Erik Destler.