Façade
A Seductively Ever After Novel
Inspired by The Phantom of the Opera
by Gaston Leroux
By
Kim Carmichael
Copyright
© 2016 Kim Carmichael
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-0692622452
ISBN-10: 0692622454
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission of the publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of this author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Published by Rebel Romance, an imprint of Irksome Rebel Press
CREDITS
Cover Photography © Jessica Elizabeth Schwartz Photography
Krissalynn Sirface (makeup) Elaina Trudell and Brandyn T. Williams (Models)
Cover Design JWORX Graphics
Book Design The Author’s Assistant – Tamara Eaton
About this Book
The world is nothing but one big façade. You have to be special to see the behind the mask.
Erik Renevant once lived in the spotlight. As lead singer for the wildly successful group, Specter, the world revered him. When an accident destroyed his band and his face, he chose to live his life in the darkness, hiding away from the shadows of his former self and refusing to be seen again.
Christine Day longs to have her chance in the spotlight. Living her life flitting from one thing to the other and currently without a permanent residence, she sees her big break in becoming the backup singer for an unknown band and entering the Stage of Stars, the latest hit reality competition.
When Christine wanders into Erik’s perfectly controlled world and he hears her voice, he knows she is destined for super stardom. However, he never dreamed she would be the one to help him shatter his own façade and lead him into the light.
Façade is inspired by the beloved story of the Phantom of the Opera and is a combination of all the different incarnations.
Contents
COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THIS BOOK
CONTENTS
DEDICATION
A NOTE FROM YOUR HUMBLE AUTHORESS…
TEN YEARS AGO…
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
DEAR READER,
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
SNEAK PEEKS!
Typecast –
A Hollywood Stardust Novel
On the Dotted Line
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dedication
To those of us who can see beyond…
A Note from Your Humble Authoress…
For almost twenty-five years I have been a fan of the Phantom of the Opera. Like many, I fell in love with the mysterious masked man after seeing the musical. Since then I have seen the story in various other forms, and all bring a different facet to a very complex character. While I know there are many thoughts on how Erik, the Opera Ghost, or the Phantom should be portrayed, I will go on record by saying my version is first and foremost a romance novel with a tortured hero and a heroine who learns to love him. I am also obsessed with what happens when Erik and Christine are brought into modern times. Rather than a retelling of the story, this is a story inspired by the characters Phantom of the Opera.
I invite you all to enjoy a different take on one of my favorite characters. Now let’s take a seat and let the show begin…
Kim Carmichael
2016
Ten years ago…
The standing ovation.
Erik Renevant and the rest of his band, Spectre, stood off stage watching the standing ovation. The clapping continued until it took on a chant-like rhythm. Everyone there was waiting for one thing, the final song, the one that came after the standing ovation.
He glanced at his band mates. There was an exact moment when one gave in, returned to the stage and performed the song the fans came to hear. The time was now, and Upton, their drummer, grabbed his sticks and went first.
The crowd roared with excitement as Upton took the throne. Once seated, Phil, their bassist, went next. Though rock music seemed chaotic and random, there was a definite ritual to everything.
Nash, Erik’s best friend and Spectre’s lead guitarist, saluted him, and instrument in hand, jogged out to the stage.
Erik waited a minute more. Everyone waited for the lead singer, and when the exact right frenzy took over the audience and the band began to play the beginning notes of their penultimate song, Shadow Light, he came out, taking his time to let the crowd relax, take them in and let them take him in.
Perfectly timed pyrotechnics shot flames with each one of his footsteps and he made his way center stage.
The music he wrote throbbed in time with his heartbeat and at last he sang the rock ballad that made him a superstar.
His song spoke of love, loss and of saying goodbye. Every person in that stadium felt they owned those words.
At last, the song ended, leaving the thousands of people in silent awe. He and his bandmates took one final bow. Now they would disappear in a wall of fire, a perfect end for a band named after a ghost, a stunt he personally designed.
Erik never made it to his mark before his world exploded. The flames shot him in the face, heat raged through him, burning and melting him, and his bandmates screamed as the stage collapsed.
Chapter One
Present day…
Muffled voices.
It was the muffled voices that caught Erik Renevant’s attention first. Voices that weren’t in his head, but encroached the space meant only for him.
Teeth gnashing together, he set his wrench aside, and with soft steps walked across the fly rail of his theatre and crouched down. He would catch the intruders and make their life hell, or at least scare the hell out of them. Either way, his actions would net the same result. Whoever dared come here would never forget they entered where they didn’t belong.
“We can’t be in here.” A little coo of a voice wafted up from the stage. “I think this is trespassing.”
Well, at least one of them had some sense. Silently, he inched his way over. It was always nice to get a full on view of who needed to be discarded before he did the discarding. His inspection revealed five invaders, some carrying instruments.
“Stop being so paranoid about everything.” A woman dressed in head to toe tight garish red leather with a shock of messy blonde hair. In heels way too high for breaking and entering, she strutted around his stage like she owned it.
“Just because it’s boarded up doesn’t mean it’s all right to come inside.” Dressed in black pants and an oversized matching sweater, the other woman, the little wisp who first spoke, came up beside the other. From his vantage point all he could make out was a tu
mble of brunette curls, but he wondered if her face matched her sweet voice.
Three men set up their instruments. Actually, one quickly assembled a portable set of drum pads while the other plugged their amplifiers into his electrical outlet and lifted their guitars. Then they put out some microphones. It was all quite a production.
“Why are you even here? I don’t need a backup singer.” The angry woman put her hands on her hips and faced the other.
The little one stepped back and one of the men, a dark swarthy fellow, rushed between the women.
“Remember we all agreed we wanted to look professional. Professionals have backup singers and you guys sound great together.” The man put a hand on each of the girls’ shoulders. “You’ll thank me when we get onto Stage of Stars.”
Erik pursed his lips. Stage of Stars, that cheesy reality show, promised to make superstars of the latest talent. Back in his day stardom had to be earned. Still, he found himself waiting a bit longer to pounce. This little display sort of intrigued him. That or he needed to get out more.
The angry one turned her nose up. “Every time you say backup singer it’s like you want someone in the wings ready to take my place.”
“Sweetheart.” The man Erik dubbed the slimy one, put his arm around the mean one. “You know no one can ever take your place. You’re the star. Christine is here only to make you sound your best.”
With a sigh, Erik sat down. If the horrible one was all that, he sort of wanted to hear what she would belt out. Since he was paying, he may as well get a show.
“Yes, the professionals we are, broke into an abandoned theatre to practice.” The mean one fluffed out her hair and took center stage.
“See? We did break in.” The one named Christine let out a little chuckle.
Erik admitted he sort of smiled at her besting the nasty one.
“Let’s practice.” The other girl huffed and went to her microphone stand.
The rest took their places and the drummer tapped off a count by hitting his sticks together.
They began to play and for the first time in years his theatre was filled with someone’s music other than his own.
In truth, the music wasn’t bad, not great, but it wasn’t bad. Typical rock fare found in anyone who graduated from playing at a high school prom.
Then the angry one began to sing.
Maybe a more accurate word would be screech, or scream, singing it was not. He shuddered, but waited for the one thing he wanted to hear.
Somehow by the grace of god, the woman made it through the first verse, he really didn’t know how. At last, they came to the chorus and Christine joined in.
Had it not been for the wailing of the battle axe, maybe he would have actually gotten the opportunity to hear Christine sing. However, with the interference, all he could ascertain was the brunette possessed a sweet, light voice that matched the rest of her completely. He only wished he could see her face.
Of course, it could never be the other way around.
The fact he even had the thought of looking into her eyes, told him he had to end this whole second-rate performance. He could get rid of them in less than thirty seconds.
After the song ended, he straightened up, took a breath and used one of the oldest tricks in the book by throwing his voice across the room. He learned the trick as far back as elementary school when he used to drive his teachers insane. It was good times.
“Get out!” His words echoed through the area.
“What was that?” The angry one screamed and ran to the boys.
All the boys looked up to the ceiling, nowhere even remotely close to where his voice landed. Fools.
Rather than freak out, Christine wrapped her arms around her shoulders and looked across the stage as if trying to figure out the mystery.
“It was nothing. You’re hearing things.” As if ready to start another song, the slime ball lifted his guitar.
“If I’m hearing things how come you all heard it too?” The woman shook her head.
Apparently, these hooligans didn’t know how to take a hint. Erik crawled across the fly ledge, did a quick calculation of his next move, and with a full-fledged smile, hit the lever holding up the curtain.
In a rush, the curtain smashed to the stage.
The angry one screamed. The drummer dropped his sticks. The one guitar player ran for the exit and slimy followed before turning back in, looking at the girls.
Christine put her hand to her chest and turned around the space, and for one quick second looked up right to where he had hidden.
Erik’s breath caught. He finally got to see her face, and what a treat. The only word to describe her would be perfection. Heart shaped face, perfect skin, pink lips, huge, hopeful eyes.
At last, his actions had the desired result.
“We should get out of here.” The slime ball pushed the quote unquote lead singer toward the exit.
“We can’t practice in this rundown, dilapidated theatre anyway. The acoustics suck.” The class act singer actually had the gall to flip off his theatre before scurrying off like a cockroach.
The drummer gathered his items and left.
“Christine, come on.” Slimy collected the rest of the equipment.
“It’s not rundown and dilapidated.” The angel’s voice sounded far away and dreamy.
“It’s haunted that’s for sure.” The boy pulled on Christine’s sleeve.
“I don’t think so.” As if coming out of a trance, she blinked, but then helped the slime with one of the amplifiers and dashed away.
Erik shook his head. He sort of wished she decided to stay, but that would be impossible. A song and a look in the darkness was all he would get. He wasn’t in the position to even say hello to her.
For quite some time he stared down at the empty stage. He purchased the old theatre in Hollywood after the accident for a great price and made it his project to rehabilitate the property. He had nothing but time on his side now. Or, maybe he was simply stagnant.
Christine’s face still in his mind, he pulled the curtain up and did the only thing he could, immerse himself in his work and try to forget he even saw something as lovely as her.
He didn’t know how long he worked on fixing one of the pulley systems because in truth, it didn’t matter, but then he heard yet another ruckus.
His game must have been off today. It was more than evident he needed to recheck all the entries into his domain rather than fool around in the space above the stage. Before he attacked, he returned to the vantage place he’d used for his earlier performance, nearly tripping and falling at the sight of the backup singer returning solo.
He forced himself to remain still and figure out what she wanted.
First, she put a backpack down in the corner. Then, she walked around the stage, taking in the theatre.
At center stage, she bowed to what she assumed to be an empty theatre and then burst into song.
At her voice, her pure voice without any of the horrible distractions, he grabbed the railing and held on. True, clear innocence swirled around him. Her timing was perfect, rhythm spot on. With a bit of training she could be magnificent.
His breath coming in short gasps, he could only stare down at the beauty and listen to her sing. How long at it been since he heard music just for the sake of music, for the art? When, at last, her song ended, he shut his eyes and tried to hold on to any notes lingering in the air.
Once more she bowed.
Though he wanted to clap, he refrained.
Again, she walked around the stage, this time running her fingers along a few of the props he kept there. “The curtain’s gone.” She looked up to the ceiling. “The lights are on. I’m not alone.”
Well, well she was the little smart one.
She returned to her backpack, unzipped it and pulled out a large coat, a book and a flashlight and sat down in the corner. “If there’s a ghost here, may I ask that I can stay for just tonight? And, if it’s not too much
trouble to leave the lights on? Please don’t hurt me. I think your theatre is beautiful.”
Erik shook his head and stared down at her, adjusting the mask that covered the ravaged, disgusting side of his face. “I would never harm you,” he whispered. “And it is you who are beautiful.” He had to make sure she never saw him.
Chapter Two
Christine stretched and opened her eyes. Like a dream, the glorious old-fashioned theatre encompassed her.
As she requested, the ghost or whoever owned the theatre, left the lights on for her, but must have adjusted them at some point. The large overhead lights weren’t blaring down on her. Instead, soft lights illuminated the stage making her feel as if she were sleeping on a gold pillow of light.
Leaving her backpack in her corner, she stood and tiptoed to the edge of the stage. Now she could make out red velvet chairs where the audience would sit, the balcony, as well the little niches for the old time box seats.
Oh, the theatre was magnificent, indeed. She climbed down and looked up at all the art deco finishes, the painted ceiling and the detailed woodwork. Off to one side, was a huge chandelier. The lack of cobwebs or dust told her someone or something was working here. No doubt it had to be the same entity that told her band to get out the day before. Even with the eerie yell, she didn’t think the message was for her, though she didn’t know why.
As if by magic, the lights on the floor suddenly switched on, bathing the space in a warm red glow. “Thank you. I don’t much like the dark.”
In a flash, lights along the side walls turned on.
With careful steps, she walked through the theatre admiring the little details no one ever bothered putting into modern architecture anymore.
At last, she made her way to the front of the theatre. She pushed open the large doors and gasped when once again the theatre ghost, or whatever, lit the lobby for her.
Obviously this part of the theatre had already been renovated. “Oh, my God.”
Facade Page 1
