That is, until he woke up. He felt himself being shaken lightly. When he brought himself together, he hardly had opened his eyes, when he watched his younger brother toss a cup of water onto his face without warning.
He jumped up from his lying position on the couch and watched everything in the room spin. His vision was blurry and dizzy, but he was still able to catch Simon, Bradley and Ramon staring with horror in their eyes. He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, realizing his mask was off his face and so were his muffler and his jacket. He felt so underdressed.
This is what Bradley wanted, of course. Descole knew that Bradley must have known that all his confidence and all his power was in his outfit. People feared him and that was all he needed. Though, of course, Bradley wouldn't let himself fear Jean. And that made him angry.
"Why did you do that?" He asked about the water and shook out his long wet brown hair, he felt it start to curl lightly as he dried it with his hand. If he didn't comb it while it was wet, it curled and made him appear more feminine. He hated looking feminine. Though, he was far too weak to get up and get a comb, so he would just take a shower later.
"I didn't think you were waking up, I'm sorry big brother." Simon apologized with a slight smile on his face. Still the same sense of humor.
Descole sighed and shook his head. The dizziness in his eyes had faded as he looked up and saw Ramon with a cup of tea and wet wash cloth. "Master, lie down, please." Ramon beseeched and set his things on the table, placing a hand on his employers arm. "You're burning up, I think you might have a fever."
The brunette shook out his now curling hair and pulled is arm away from Ramon's grip. Burning up? He felt like his muscles were freezing over. "I'm fine. I need to practice." He said and stood up. He felt the room become almost black again, but his stood his ground with a stoic expression. He wouldn't let anyone know.
"Practice?" Bradley stood next to him and shook his head. "You are not going to try out for that ballet, are you? You're sick."
"Don't tell me what to do. I made a promise and I am going to stick with it. Now if you excuse me." Jean stated and walked into his large room. He saw the studio mirrors and stood in front of them on the wooden floor. He sighed knowing he would have to practice if he was going to audition tomorrow.
He hastily got dressed in his ballet practice garb and placed a familiar record into the player. He turned it on and stood in front of the mirrors breathing hard. Why was it so hard to breathe? Was he nervous?
He couldn't let himself be nervous. He needed to just practice.
..
The next morning, he woke with a start. The auditions were early and he knew he had to awake even earlier. He looked to the clock and sighed with relief when he found that he didn't have to be at the studio for another couple of hours.
Getting into the shower and quickly getting out, he combed out his hair and threw some clothes on. He walked himself to the living room to his little brother putting finishing touches on that same painting of Bradley. It was quite impressive, it was of him sitting on rocks at some beach, and it certainly highlighted all of his handsome features.
With just a smile and nod from the both of them, they sat in silence before Simon let out, "You aren't really going to try out, are you?"
Descole sighed. "I have to."
"Cici…"
"I made a promise and I am going to show him I am a better person." He said curtly and shook his head.
Simon licked his lips and nodded, obviously disagreeing. He used a paintbrush to push his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes so he could proceed to try and read his brother through his sight. Jean stared back with a raised eyebrow and a cup of coffee noticing that his was trying to get something out of this.
"Do you love him?" Simon finally spoke up and realized his words were too brief. "Bradley, I mean. He told me he loved you."
Jean looked down confused. When did it become normal for a man to love another man? Why didn't it phase his little brother, was more of a confusing question. "No." He said after a moment of thinking. The truth of that statement was he wasn't sure if he actually did love the man or not. He found him familiar and easy to talk to. He was someone who could read his emotions and know what to say to accommodate those emotions and smile when he needed a smile. But that wasn't love.
But then again, what is love? Had he ever actually experienced love?
Years of using men for sex, and being used for sex, he didn't know what love was, other than the platonic feelings he felt for his brother, his mother and his current stepfather. What was he to expect from love? It was such a pointless emotion, why would anyone need that? And that was why he was a villain. That was why he was going masked and wreaking havoc. He didn't need love or any of those emotions.
Though, if that were true, why did his chest hurt thinking about it?
He shook off his emotions and stood up to dress into his dance clothes. He didn't want to change in front of the other people, for he felt vulnerable when he did such things. This was why he kept dressed as a villain. No one knew who he was.
Dressed, he walked out to the living room and smiled at his brother. "I'll be on my way." And before his little brother could suggest going with him, he walked out of the house.
..
Sitting in the audience of the studio, he noticed the women of the ballet tryouts conversing with the two judges, but mostly the male one. He always found the women trying to seduce their way into the lead role of the production, but that was probably true for any gender or any performing arts.
He watched all the dancers trying out take their seats and the judges do the same in the front of the stage. The male judge was a tall older man, with a smile that could cut you. He seemed like he meant business as he stood to get the audience members attention.
When Jean looked around, he noticed the full house of just people walking in to watch. He didn't realize the auditions were open like that. When he noticed how many people were there, he felt his chest tighten. He didn't remember how nerve-wrecking this process was.
"Thank you all for signing up to try out for one of Tchaikovsky's best ballet productions…" He heard from the fierce looking male and let himself space out.
After a couple more words, the judges sat down and asked one man to get up and try out. Obviously, they were doing the men first, which was good for him. Descole could try out, leave for a couple of hours and come back later to check the list and see who made what.
After a couple of other performances, he heard a familiar name called up. "Bradley Cryptsell." He heard from the cutting man and he watched Bradley confidently walk up and smile at the judge. He gave his information and something about himself.
"I am one of those kinds of people who would rather see myself poor and a starving artist, then rich and miserable in some high paying job. Which is why I coach dance and play football in my spare time." He added with a smile, which seemed to please the judges. Unlike the other people who auditioned, he kept his introduction short. He was always one to do that as it seemed. One of the few people he knew who wasn't that conceited.
Damn, he forgot about the part of the audition. What would he say? What is something interesting that would stick in the judges' minds? Oh well, he didn't want the part that bad. He could make something up. He was only doing this to keep a promise.
He watched Bradley's audition and forgot how talented the man was. He was graceful and handsome and found a way to bring masculinity to such a feminine based dance. His moves seemed to captivate his mind as he watched him. This was exactly what happened when he met him. This was how he fell for him. He seemed like some kind of dancing siren who lures people in with his grace and doesn't even realize it.
There was no way the judges could turn him down for the lead. He was perfect. And in some weird way, that made Jean really happy.
He watched his former lover take his seat in the front of the stage after thanking the judge and audience with a bright smile and right after, they happened to call "Francis Smith".
Jean watched Bradley seem to look up confused and look behind him to find him. He watched Bradley lock eyes with him as he stood up and walked to the stage. It took two seconds to climb onto the stage and smile at the audience.
"Right, so you know the drill, who are you, who are you with and something interesting about yourself." He woman judge said with a sweet smile.
Jean stood and shook his head. "I'm…" He felt his voice fade as he realized he had to say his name. "I'm Francis Smith." He said with confidence and looked to Bradley. He would make sure to tell him who he was. He suddenly wanted Bradley back, and he would have him.
"The last place I was with was Cryptsell Studios, with Bradley's mother." He told them, which was quite the truth, surprisingly. The last time he danced was in Bradley's parent's production since they were dance teachers as well. Though as of recently, he guessed it had been passed down to their son, he assumed. Well, it had been a year.
"And if you want to hear something interesting," his voice faded as he looked to the back of the room and noticed someone familiar. A tall man stood in a neatly pressed suit with grey-ish brown hair and what seemed like a condescending smirk. It was Jerome.
How did he know Jean would be here? Why did he follow him?
At the sight of his former stepfather he froze up slightly. He needed to come back. He needed to just audition and forget he was there. Why would he follow him? That question pounded in his mind. He threatened him and he would kill him.
He could kill him. He was right there. He could jump off the stage and run after him and strangle him with his bare hands. His face turning bright blue as he tried to struggle for his life and Jean would just smile. He would smile and let him know, he couldn't hurt him anymore.
He couldn't do that though. He made a promise. He wondered if Jerome had been coming to all his productions. There were not that many ballet tryouts in London and when there were, they seemed to always be in full houses like this. He wondered if he'd been following all of the ballet auditions in London since he left just to stalk him and find him.
He couldn't think of that now. He just had to dance. He looked to the judges and after what seemed like a lifetime of thinking, which was really only a few seconds, he half smiled coyly. "If you want to know something interesting, I'll tell you, I am only doing this because of a promise I made to Bradley Cryptsell. I should probably let you know though, I am a competitive person, and I am also a dangerously interesting person," here he glanced at the man in the back who no longer was smiling, "I am prepared to tell you that I am not the best dancer in this room. I think the best dancer I have ever known is here and he should get the main role. The reason I am telling you this is to prove that I am not a self-centered actor like most of the men and women in this room and this is why am I different. I know that everyone is here because they want the fame and the lights on them, but truthfully, I am here to prove to the best dancer I have ever known that I am a better person then I made myself out to be."
He looked to his father in the back and smiled wider. "And not only that, but to the man in the back room, I know you're there and you get a kick out of seeing me dance." He watched the audience all turn to the back and the judges as well. Jerome looked uneasy. "Oh, and this won't be the last time. If you are still here after this dance, I'll gladly show you how talented I really am, because you don't know who I really am."
After the audience looked back and Jerome stood stoic, the brunette smiled. "Again, I'm Francis Smith, and I am dangerously interesting." He said with a smile and looked to the accompanist. She smiled nodded to him when she started playing and he began dancing.
Francis Smith, acting throughout the whole dance and enjoying the lights on him, kept his eyes off the evil man in the back, and on the judges.
As he let himself be taken into the music he approached the end of the dance. Gracefully dropping his body, he looked to the attractive blond sitting in the front with a worried look on his face. He seemed genuinely interested and entranced but also concerned. He stood up with a hopeful smile on his face, as the music had suggested and he looked to the back. Jerome was nowhere to be seen.
He kept his smile but looked back at the judges. His heart was racing and suddenly room became dizzy again. He was not going to let himself pass out in front of them. He was going to show his stepfather, even if he wasn't in the room, that he was strong then him.
As the music came to a close, he gracefully dropped again and held his arms in, as the song suggested, and looked down the floor. The music stopped and he looked to the man and woman with a smile. "Thank you," he said before falling standing up and he looked to Bradley.
On his way up, he felt even dizzier then before. All his senses were shut off again, as his sight began to turn black. He started walking close to the edge of the stage, not seeing where he was going as everything finally faded out of his vision.
"Damn it!" He heard a familiar curse from the audience as he suddenly felt lifeless in his bones. His muscles and his body were free falling off the stage when he felt himself caught in some ones arms.
He looked up and there was Bradley's concerned face staring at him. "He was there. My stepfather kept looking at me." Jean let out groggily and confused and right then, he blacked out again.
..
When Jean awoke, he noticed he was in a bright white and cream colored room and a different bed. He noticed the grey and blue gown plastered to his body and strange needles and tubes attached to his arms. It reminded him of his lab at his house, but that was certainly not where he was. The bed he was laying on had a slight slant so he was partially sitting up and the sheets were a disgusting boring white.
He was in a goddamn hospital bed.
"You're awake." He heard from next to him and looked to see Bradley looking nervous. "That was a pretty terrifying spill you took." He stood up and sat on the bed next to him. "Everyone in the house was in a state of panic, the judges called an ambulance. They said it wasn't the first time they'd seen that happen."
Jean shook his head and looked down. "I bet I looked ridiculous."
"The only thing that was ridiculous was that ramble you did in your introduction." Bradley explained. "What made that happen? You didn't even look like yourself, or even danced like yourself. You were in some strange trance it seemed like." He said worriedly.
Descole looked down and clenched his jaw thinking about what happened. "That goddamn…" His voice trailed off as he looked at the tubes taped to his arms. He was worried about what they could have been, but he ignored them to tell Bradley the truth. He had too. "I saw my former stepfather in the back of the room. The evil one. He wanted to kill me, I think."
"The man standing in the back, you said?" Bradley questioned. "There were so many people standing, I wasn't sure who you were talking about."
"He was there. He wanted to hurt me and take back his son. I told him not to follow me or I would kill him. He's making me crazy! Why won't he leave me alone?" He suddenly felt tears well up at the thought of that man haunting him for the rest of his life. He had just finally stopped the nightmares from invading his sleep, how could he be so cruel as to make them come back? An evil person such as that couldn't have been human.
Bradley took his hand and shook his head. "Has he been following you?" He asked concerned and stared into the brunette's watering eyes.
Descole shook his head and sighed outwards. "Only in my nightmares. But I don't know anymore, now that I have his son. My baby brother." He wiped away a tear forming and shook his head again. "I can't let him get to me or figure out where I am."
"What did he do to you?" The blonde man held his hand gently as he asked the personal question. He obviously knew it was a touchy subject, for in a second, the waterworks started.
Keeping a straight face, except for biting his lip every now and then, Descole began telling the story of his stepfather with tears on his cheeks. One personal detail at a time, Bradley was soon informed.
"I…I don't know what to tell you." Bradley was at a loss for words. "I don't know what to say. That is horrible. Is…is that the truth?"
Descole nodded and looked down. "I know I lied to you a lot, but this isn't something I can lie about anymore." He licked his lips and shook his head. "What happened to me, what did the doctors say?"
Bradley sighed. "They said you were dehydrated and from the looks at your ex-rays and your body in general, they said it looks like you haven't eaten a normal meal on months. They say you're on the path to emaciation. They're pumping fluids into you so you can go home soon. They said that if you were not eating, they would have to keep you until you gained weight, but I lied and told them you had just had the flu and you were working too hard. They said as soon as they looked after you for a couple of hours, and you seemed less dehydrated, I could take you home if you had someone to watch after you." He explained with a smile. "I know how much you hate doctors."
Jean nodded and smiled through his tears. "Thank you."
Bradley shook his head, his smile fading. "I can't let that man get back to you. Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I could have protected you more. Maybe I could have stopped you from cheating on me, or I could have stopped you from getting to this point."
"It's not your fault."
"Jean Descole, I won't let you get hurt again." He said using his costume name. "I know we had a terrible past, what with you lying to me, but I won't let you hurt yourself because of something that terrible man did. You're stronger than that, and I won't let that man to come by to hurt you, or your brother."
That was the sentence Jean wanted to hear. He was victorious. "You're too sweet. I am forever in your debt."
"No, just forever in my care. We won't let that man get away with what he did. You're a villain; you've got some crazy contraptions, don't you?" Bradley laughed and kissed his hand lightly. "That is, if you're okay with me tagging along?"
"Are you okay to live a criminal life?" Jean asked with a half-smile. "Can your sweet conscious take that?"
"If it means making sure you're okay, Jean, I can do anything for you."
"Then we have to get you a mask."
For the first time in a long time, Descole felt safer. Now the only obstacle would be getting back Jerome Moreau, but he had a feeling he could now achieve that goal, with the help of an assistant. A sweet, attractive and familiar assistant, of course.
Nothing could stop Jean Descole now. Now, it was only a matter of time.
Fin
So thanks for reading everyone. And thanks to my four reviewers! Even though according to my Story Stats, I get like 20 Visitors and like 30 Hits every day. I feel like four is a really small number compared to that? Is my story that bad? Ha ha!
So yeah, review and tell me if you'd want a sequel! We could see what Descole finally does to his father, see how his apprentices help, add more Layton and Luke, possible Lando, more puzzles! I really just like Bradley as a character. I'm upset I didn't give enough character development to him.
Anyway, thanks a bunch, review nicely, and tell me what you think. Love you all!