Chapter 25
M r. Delgado asked us to arrive at least four hours before the gala for the rehearsals. Though I was only the backup, the knot in my stomach tightened with each passing minute. I hadn’t eaten all day. With my gala dress draped over one arm and my violin cradled in its protective case in the other, I made my way to the grand salon of the opera house.
Mr. Delgado’s loud voice, teetering on the edge of collapse, would have felt potent enough to shatter the golden mirrors on the walls. The three other students were already present—only Maria was missing.
“Oh, thank god you’re here.” Mr. Delgado’s usually stoic demeanor cracked into genuine relief upon seeing me—that was a first. “You’ll replace Maria. She had the nerve to cancel at the last minute for some interview, so you better be ready, Mercier.”
My jaw hung open. “Yes, I—of course.”
Mr. Delgado’s discerning gaze ran the length of me, a mixture of scrutiny and, perhaps, regret already settling in. “Put your belongings in the lodge.” Urgency punctuated his words as his hands clapped together. “Chop, chop!”
“You better not mess this up. This is my moment,” Gunther’s deadpan delivery cut through the air.
Nodding in acknowledgment, I darted off to stow my gala dress in the dressing room, my heart dancing with excitement. With shaky hands, I reached for my phone to text Dad and Grandma despite everything.
Me: I’m performing at the gala! Can you believe it?? I’m a step closer to performing at the Grand Opera House!
Even if my father were to respond with his usual refrain, “You can’t bet everything on a slim hope of the opera opening one day,” it wouldn’t change my mood. I placed my dress on the makeup table, noticing a black silk box already resting there, with my name elegantly scripted in ink. My fingers eagerly untied the ribbon, unveiling the exact dress I had admired in the store just days ago.
I glanced around, searching for a clue as to who it was from, but found nothing.
Goose bumps spread on my skin. I held the dress up, twirling it in front of me in the mirror, and I let out an excited shriek.
Mom, if only you could see me now.
All I knew was that tonight would be perfect .
“So you’re performing tonight after all? I’m so excited for you!”
Yasmine enveloped me in a tight hug, the satin fabric of her red dress getting tangled with the tulle on mine. The rehearsals had left me with no time to eat, my stomach a churn of nerves, and my trembling hands betraying the anxiety gnawing at me.
That night unfolded like a twilight canvas of opulence. The air whispered tales of students from centuries past, waltzing in the middle of ancient golden mirrors that stretched along the walls. Though it was Halloween, the atmosphere felt more like a New Year’s event, devoid of scary masks—a detail for which I was silently grateful.
Yasmine’s eyes flickered to my outfit. “And that dress, is that the one from the store after all?”
“It was in my lodge. Someone sent it to me,” I whispered.
She arched her brow. “And you decided to wear it? Even not knowing who it came from?”
“Of course. If I do, the person will manifest themself. Unless it’s my dad who changed his mind, or Grandma, or—”
Mr. Delgado’s snap of fingers diverted my attention to the other side of the grand salon. He pointed at an invisible watch, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
“I have to go.”
“I’ll be by the food.” Yas beamed. “Or should I say amuse-bouches .”
I passed through the opulent chandeliers casting a golden veil glow over the gathering guests. The invitations were narrowed down only to an elite minority: Pantheon’s investors, business tycoons, superstars, and Nobel Prize winners—most of them former Pantheon students.
In the middle of that, my gaze was magnetically attracted to that one person I was anxious to see. You’d think it would be easy to avoid him among the hundreds of students, but no, Levi was everywhere.
He moved with a feline grace. The dense room seemed to close on him, every mirror reflecting him. He possessed a haunting beauty, akin to a dark angel descending from the frescoes on the ceiling above as if fate had sent him to torment me. My heart quickened.
He exuded danger, cloaked in refined elegance. His all-black tuxedo, impeccably tailored, accentuated his sharp, hollow cheeks. The only embellishment on his attire wasn’t his square obsidian stone cuff links but the small epaulets gracing his shoulders, resembling the graceful feathers of a black swan. Just like my dress. Even his nails were painted black.
I couldn’t evade him; our paths converged—Mr. Delgado was right behind him, and Levi wasn’t the type to move away if he hadn’t decided to do so.
“Let me go through, Levi.”
“You haven’t eaten anything the whole day,” he scolded.
“Did you spy on me?”
“Would that surprise you?” he said as if his behavior was normal. “You’re anxious.”
“Of course I am. I’m playing in front of a whole crowd, and I can’t mess this up. I’ve never done that before, and I’m—” I took a deep breath. Why was I confiding in him, of all people, again? “Not the point. I need to go.”
“You need to eat,” he insisted, handing me something that looked like a protein bar.
I took it from him, somewhat perplexed.
“Well, thank you. I’ll see you later,” I said, attempting to move past him.
However, as we brushed past each other, he grasped my hand, causing our bodies to come side by side. His lips hovered dangerously close to my neck, his stormy eyes fixed on me.
“I see you liked my little gift.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Your gift?”
“Didn’t you realize we match? I don’t go for subtlety.”
“The custom-made suit,” I mumbled, remembering what he’d told me that night we played Lucie’s scores together. “You did it on purpose.”
“You look exquisite in that dress.” His voice, velvety and venomous, sent a shiver down my spine. “Black is definitely one of your colors.”
I blinked, facing him. “But how? And why didn’t you say anything last night?”
“I saw how you stared at me through the window like a broken, sad little doll.” He wore his usual sadistic smile. “After that, I merely had to extract information from the saleswoman. Telling you all that would have ruined my grand gesture.”
I gasped. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you had anything to do with Maria.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets, shrugging.
“She’s a Tactician,” I continued, my voice shaking. “Of course, you had something to do with it… I don’t deserve this spot… And here I thought I was making it on my own. I’m just an impostor, and it’s all because of you, because you’re unhinged!”
“Maria got an opportunity she couldn’t refuse, and you have the spot that should have belonged to you in the first place. I don’t see how this—”
“You’re ruining this for me!” My voice turned high-pitched, like a pathetic yelp, my breaths growing shallow and rapid. “I’m not a charity case. I want to accomplish this on my own because I deserve it. And you—you’re messing things up for me.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I didn’t mess it up. I made it perfect. For you.”
“For me,” I repeated in a whisper.
My grand gesture, he had said.
“How can you possibly think I’d like that?” I grimaced.
“It’s what you wanted, so I made it happen,” he said, still not understanding what was wrong with his actions.
Levi didn’t do nice. He didn’t do anything without a hidden agenda.
“You’re like a stray cat showing your affection by bringing dead mice.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “You really need to learn how to have normal social interactions.”
“You don’t want normal.”
My heart hammered against my rib cage. “Why did you even do that?”
“Because you’re mine.”
“Dalia!” Mr. Delgado’s voice rang out.
“I’m not—”
“Shh, don’t ruin this moment.” Levi’s voice sliced through the air like a velvet-covered blade. “We’ll catch up after.”
I reluctantly tore my gaze and body away from him. I quickly ate the protein bar, because, annoyingly, he had a point about that. I had to focus on the performance. I took my seat on the small makeshift wooden stage among the three other musicians, who each wore a closed-off expression.
I shared a tense smile with Gunther. Beads of sweat were on his forehead, his skin so pale he seemed on the verge of collapsing. From behind his piano, he surreptitiously retrieved an inhaler from his pocket, but it slipped from his grasp and clattered to the stage. Gunther has asthma? He straightened his spine and acted as if nothing had happened.
Mr. Delgado leaned in. “Gunther, don’t play selfishly, as always. Min, smile more. You look depressed. Loic, play louder. Have some pride in your music, for god’s sake.”
As Mr. Delgado turned away, I seized the opportunity to spring from my seat and retrieve Gunther’s inhaler. However, my teacher’s sharp gaze caught my movement.
“And Dalia,” he questioned with a furrowed brow. “What are you doing on the floor?”
“Nothing,” I hastily responded. “Just a few stretches before the performance.”
“Hmm. Original.” He acknowledged with a head nod. “Anyway, I want you to go against all your natural instincts—no eccentricity. Be normal .”
“Normal. Got it.”
I made my way back to my chair and discreetly returned Gunther’s inhaler. He hesitated before accepting it. He likely didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of the others while he was the most technically skilled student in our class.
“Don’t worry, it can stay between us,” I mouthed to him, raising my violin to my chin. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” He smiled.
With a flick of his baton, Mr. Delgado, assuming the role of conductor in his tail tuxedo, signaled the start of the performance.
The crowd gathered, and I inhaled the resiny scent of the varnish. The feeling of the strings on my fingers was almost like being in touch with the life pulse of the instrument. My right arm dragging and pushing the bow back and forth felt like the flow of life itself.
I was where I belonged.
In the right hands, a violin was the voice of love. In the wrong hands, it screeched like a cat in pain. I navigated through double stops, plucking the strings and executing one of my cherished techniques: the tremolo. It made my violin quiver like a tormented heart. I moved my bow so quickly that it was almost aggressive; it was edgy and close to the bridge.
It was safe to say I didn’t follow Delgado’s instructions, which earned me a look as dark as the color of his hair, which was tied in a ponytail. I executed every technique— glissando, portamento, col legno, trills. Nothing else existed in the world but me and the music.
I ended the melody with a sparkling, shimmering, and ethereal arpeggio.
The audience erupted into small applause. My heart was beating frantically. I did it. All four of us bowed, our moist hands locking. I emerged from the stage, leaving the violin in place. The plush carpet absorbed the echo of my footsteps as Sylas walked toward me. A wine-brown cashmere suit clung to his frame, the fabric draping snugly over every contour of his lean body. His golden hair was neatly combed in a polished, proper look like those models in magazines.
“I didn’t know you were performing tonight. You and your music are beautiful.” Sylas glanced around him as if he was hiding from someone. “Can you save me, please? I’m tired of mingling with these people on my father’s behalf. Look at me, I can’t even talk without smiling anymore.”
The life of a politician sounded suffocating to me—endless obligations and a lack of personal freedom.
“I’ll be your savior anytime,” I said with a smile.
The second years had taken over in the grand salon, filling the air with the waltz of “Voices of Spring.” I closed my eyes, immersing myself in the divine melody. However, as I reopened them, Levi’s reflection in one of the towering mirrors appeared to stalk toward me with a determined gait, exuding the sleek grace of a panther on the prowl. My heart leaped to my throat.
“Shall we dance?” Sylas had extended his hand.
“Yes, please,” I stammered, accepting his hand and twirling away from Levi.
He halted in his tracks almost instantly.
Sylas and I locked eyes, caught in a silent, tense dance, as we passed through the waltzing couples floating around us. His Adam’s apple bobbed. The strained smiles we exchanged hung in the air. Amid the awkwardness, I noticed Yasmine across the room, a conspiratorial wink aimed in my direction. She was killing the buffet, a dozen amuse-bouches in her hands. Maybe she was right, and there was more to Sylas’s feelings than friendship.
Yet at that moment, as his hand found its place behind my back, it didn’t stir me. Didn’t echo the way Levi’s touch did—the man entangled in the disillusion that I belonged to him.
Sylas finally broke the silence. “I guess you’re probably aware of what our fathers want for us. I know you’re from a Catholic education, and I’ll always respect that.”
A knot formed in my heart. We were delving into the subject we’d so far tried to avoid.
“Sylas, I—” I began, my words faltering while we glided across the floor. “I’m sorry. I like you a lot, but as a friend…”
He frowned, his grip on my waist tightening as he lowered me into a dip. “Oh, I see.”
“I know our fathers are close, and you’re the only boy my father likes for some reason. You’ve always been kind and attentive to me even though you could have anyone you want,” I said, avoiding his gaze. “I mean, you’re attractive, and…”
“Is it because of Levi?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the soft strains of the waltz. “I’ve noticed how you two look at each other. He can be quite… intense.”
“Maybe… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry for you.” Sylas smiled, this time genuinely. “He’s the worst person someone could be into.”
He lifted me back up with practiced ease for us to twirl again.
“I hope it’s not going to be weird between us?”
“Dalia, I asked you to be my date because, as lame as it sounds, my father kinda pushed me to do it,” Sylas confessed. “Because you’re the perfect woman a politician could dream of marrying, but you’re far from my type. I’m not into you either.”
“Oh.” That hurt a bit more than I expected.
“I didn’t mean to sound harsh. You’re beautiful, and sweet and—”
“Sweet? Really?” I laughed. “It’s okay, I—”
“I mean…” His voice trailed off. “You’ll never be my type, Dalia.”
I laughed again, trying to brush off the discomfort. “I get it, Sylas. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”
Sylas suddenly halted in the middle of the dance, his grip on my hand loosening. “You don’t understand.”
“It’s okay. We don’t like each other. It’s cool, it’s—”
“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone a thing, especially not to your father or mine,” he urged me. I’d never seen Sylas so insecure. “Remember how I had your back and never told your father about whatever was happening between you and Levi? It’ll remain our secret if you keep mine.”
“You can trust me.”
“I’m into…” He lowered his voice and drew me close with a hand behind my back for a slow dance. “I’m gay. That’s why you’re far from my type and never would be.”
“Oh.” I parted my lips, applause ringing out behind us as the second-years prepared to perform another piece, but we remained locked. “But you just said that thing related to my Catholic education.”
“Yes, because it meant I could keep my father happy while keeping my relationship platonic with you by not promising you things I can’t do.”
Meaning having sex with me . “But what’s wrong with being gay? Why don’t you tell him?”
“My father is a conservative,” he said, straightening up, the depth of his blue gaze meeting mine. “Having a gay son would be the ultimate shame in his eyes. He wouldn’t understand. I’m hiding this from everyone. That’s why I initially approached you—to use you as a cover so people here wouldn’t find out about my preferences. I’m sorry if I made you feel uneasy, but going against my father is mission impossible.”
“I understand more than you think. I have a terrifying father too, remember.” I chuckled, stroking his arm for support while we were still spinning. “If I can help, I will, but you don’t have to feel ashamed or—” I thought this through. “Wait, your cover for who? You’re into someone?”
He pinched his lips, giving me a look to lower my voice. “Maybe. Yes.”
I smiled. “Is it someone I know?”
He shot a glance toward the champagne flutes, and I followed his gaze to Levi, encircled by his two Tactician friends. Then Sylas swallowed.
“Don’t tell me it’s Levi,” I muttered in disbelief. “That’s why you can’t stand him and—”
“It’s not Levi. No offense, but he’s too much of a psycho to be my type,” Sylas quipped back, and I almost felt the need to defend myself.
As I spun, my gaze flickered back to the Tacticians’ group. Kay’s glare drilled into me. He wore a bright red blazer with gold chains and a matching single earring. He quickly downed his drink in one gulp, like he wanted to obliterate me from his field of vision and—
“His best friend,” I said. “It’s Kay.”
Suddenly, everything fell into place. The nasty looks Kay had been giving me weren’t because of Levi, but because of Sylas.
“Yes, he was my first. We went out secretly together last year. He’s my ex,” Sylas admitted, his hand tensing on my body. “We had a thing, but my father nearly found out because of rumors. I denied it, but he lost his temper, Dalia. You should have seen how my father looked at me. I ended it. Kay said I broke his heart, so he’s trying to make me pay for it every chance he gets. Sleeping around with everyone and being a douchebag. It’s killing me, but it can’t happen again.”
“Doesn’t it hurt you?” To let go of the person you love and who you are to please your father?
“Every day.” His voice quivered. “And the worst thing is, I think Levi knows. Kay says he never told him, but they’re besties . He loves him and swears only by him.” I heard a hint of jealousy in Sylas’s tone.
“Well, everything makes so much sense now.”
Sylas had broken Levi’s best friend’s heart, which was probably the reason he’d called him a coward. Knowing Levi, I was sure he’d made Sylas’s life as infuriable as possible in return.
“I’ve never talked about this to anyone. I pretend to have my shit together, but I don’t.” His grip tightened even more. “It’s exhausting.” He gulped. “He can be so carefree, doing whatever he wants, while I’m—”
“Trapped, pretending to be someone you’re not just to gain acceptance,” I finished, his struggle speaking all too well with mine to some degree. “But you deserve to be happy, Sylas. Whatever you decide to do, I’m on your side.”
“Same goes for you, Dalia. Even if you’re too good for someone like this jerk, I have your back with your father,” he said, attempting to divert his attention from Kay’s laughter with his friends. “We’re in this together, right?”
I hugged him tightly, the storm brewing in Levi’s dark gaze burning me from across the room.
Danger was looming.