I knew what I had done was wrong, but I could not help myself.

Too many nights, I had watched Veronica and yearned for her touch. And I had learned that mental desire could be just as brutal as the physical desire of a human body.

On such a night, after I sang her to sleep, I glared at Tony Bradshaw's poster on the wall. How lucky he was to be alive and handsome! How wasted life is for the living! I resented him bitterly. And I recalled how persistently he had called for my help before I found Veronica. That must have been when the inspiration hit…

I suggested that she go see his show once more, knowing all along what I would do. I even made her dress exactly the way that I wanted her to look in her bright red scandalously short outfit.

Just a kiss on her lips…that is all I wanted. Just one kiss.

As soon as I left Veronica's mind, I felt bereft. Yet I knew that if my plan reached fruition, it would be worth the agony. And I sought out Tony Bradshaw

If the strolling player wanted me so badly for his career, he would have me but for a price.

Only half an hour before the performance, I found him. When he sat in the dressing room, listening to his odd contraption of what I believe are headphones and a CD player, trying to summon up the necessary emotional resources to play my part, that was when he was the most vulnerable to me. I forced myself into his mind brutally. His body even jolted violently when I did so but I did not care. What was a little agony when he had a career of fame and fortune awaiting him?

Tony Bradshaw gave the best performance yet with my help. But after the show ended, I did not leave him. In fact, I pushed his psyche aside with a little aid from a small injection of heroin that he had stashed in his bag.

After I felt in complete control of his body, I removed the wig and stage makeup, looking into the mirror with fascination. So this is what it was like to be handsome and without a mask! And Tony Bradshaw was a fine specimen of a man, no question about it. With his raven black hair, swarthy complexion and black flashing eyes, he was indeed a dangerous looking hero, like out of one of those horrid romance novels that Veronica so loved to read. And his figure was trim and muscular in a tight pair of blue jeans and a black flowing shirt which brought out the best of his brutish hairy chest. He even had a charming gold chain to wear about his neck. I tested out a dashing smile at my reflection in his body. Ah, with a face and body like this, I could have ruled the world!

But I had a higher purpose than to dream of what it was like to be Don Juan. I had to find Veronica.

I was unprepared for the swarm of females who flocked to my side as I left the dressing room. Women of all ages and sizes, but many of them young with their perky flesh eager for my touch. If I had not had only one woman in my heart, I should have enjoyed such prospects thoroughly. As it was, I smiled and winked at them, scrawling a few unreadable signatures on their theater programs. They asked me questions I either did not understand or know the answers to, so I tried to be as brief as possible, even rudely ignoring some of them.

My skills at finding my way unseen throughout a theater was to my benefit this night, for I found that I had to return to my dressing room and find an alternate exit to escape all of those women. Then I had to find the tavern named "Charlie's". Fortunately, there was a big green and white sign in electric lighting to help me find it's locationacross the street from the theater.

When I arrived, I made my way through the smoky darkness. Young men and women were all there, indulging in alcohol and brawling and lovemaking. And I spotted her right away, standing by a big machine with all sorts of colorful lighting. It was as if she had been waiting for me there all of her life.

I reached out for Veronica, eager to experience everything she had to give me. She smelled of roses. At first, she was understandably frightened of me. But I persisted in exploring everything I dared in those brief moments. Her mouth was soft and giving way to my own greedy mouth, for once unfettered by a mask. I smoothed my hands along the curves of her ravishing red dress, feeling the silken swell of her hips and breasts. I clenched a fistful of her dark curls as I persisted in assaulting her mouth with my own. And I felt her body relax and become pliable under my forcefulness. She moaned with helpless pleasure, causing me to ache intensely.

Having had no physical body for so long, I had forgotten how powerful the sexual urge is in a man's body. For if we had not been in a public place, I quite possibly could have gone mad, stopping at nothing to know every secret that Veronica's sweet flesh had to offer. As it was, I was glad when she slapped me hard across the face. Not so much because I richly deserved it (which I most certainly did), but because it tempered that gnawing desire in my loins somewhat.

When I backed away from her, I was so satisfied at the sight of her. Her hair was mussed. Her eyes were wide from shock and slightly drugged from pleasure. As she gasped for breath, her body seemed to shake from our embrace. She stumbled awkwardly as if she were about to fall down. I wanted so much to take her back into my arms and kiss her again and again…to be with her forever.

But I had to play my role.

"Oh, my God!" I shouted out in Bradshaw's unfamiliar English accent. "I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else!"

Veronica only stood still before me, pressing her fingers to her lips.

"Is everything okay, ma'am?" A big burly man came up to us, obviously ready to show me the door. "This man ain't botherin' you, is he?"

"It was just a misunderstanding," Veronica said softly, unable to tear her eyes away from my own.

Once the odious bully had left us, I continued to speak to my sweet Veronica.

"I vow that from the back you look exactly like a woman I am acquainted with. Please accept my apologies."

She nodded shyly.

"I hope I didn't slap you too hard."

The dear girl! How I loved her so! I could not hold back a smile.

"As you said yourself, it was a misunderstanding."

She smiled back sweetly, making my heart melt.

Of course, her pesky reporter roommate decided to show up at the most inopportune moment.

"Tony Bradshaw!" she called out. "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere. Wouldn't you know my flirt of a friend would have you all to herself cornered by a juke box? This chick has a serious Phantom fetish!"

We sat down at a small table. As Pam Moore shouted out questions at me over the loud raucous excuse for music, I became increasingly annoyed and anxious. Obviously, I was out of my element now. She was asking me questions about Tony Bradshaw's birthplace in England and his childhood. I was making up lies left and right. Also, I could feel Bradshaw's psyche insistently pushing away at me, wanting his body back.

I made up an excuse that I was feeling poorly and hurriedly left the bar. Once outside, I departed Tony Bradshaw at once so that I could return to the warm soul of Veronica. Apparently, the subject of Bradshaw was completely forgotten by the two women after they made a few comments about what a weird man he was. Then they chattered away like magpies, reminiscing about their girlhood friendship. As I came back to Veronica, she sighed with relief and smiled pleasantly. She could not have been aware of my presence, yet instinctively her body knew her ghost had returned.

That night, Veronica had been horribly worried that I would be angry with her. She told me all about how Tony Bradshaw had assaulted her in a bar and asked if I had seen it.

Yes, my child. I remember the moment vividly.

"Then you know that I did not want to kiss him! He forced me!"

Of course, love. He was an unspeakable cur. Let us speak no more on the matter. Shall I sing you a song? One of your favorites that will make you forget all about that depraved actor?

Veronica beamed with pleasure as she undressed and laid back upon the bed, stretching like a cat with her hands gripping firmly at the bedposts.