Of Monsters and Angels

by Partners in Fanfiction

ErikxOFC with LND elements. Nicole "Nikki" Lasalle-Jones approaches the mysterious Mr. Y of Phantasma for the rights to one of his shows for her school's theater department. Mr. Y turns out to be an old friend of her late mother's with a checkered past he's reluctant to reveal to anyone else, even if he's suddenly enamored of her. Rated for scary scenes, limes and language.

16. Chapter 16: Erik's POV

16

Erik

Nicole handed me her phone with a satisfied grin. "They did fine it on the first try but I recorded the second so it'd be perfect."

And it was, as perfect gets. When it finished, I looked up at her and told her as I handed her back the phone, "Perfection achieved."

"Yay!" she exclaimed, raising her forearms before extending the left one to take her phone back. "The cast wasn't all that excited about changing, but they'll be glad you approve." Before I could ask her if she even told them of me, she said, "And all Barry and I said was that there were gonna be changes. No questions, no problems."

I nodded once. "Good."

"We're working on all the stuff the ensemble is in for the time being," she explained. "Then Barry and I might split the work with smaller groups, see people Saturdays and…yeah." She beamed. Her smile made me melt inside. "This progress is amazing, isn't it? Hell, we might be done way before break." Her phone vibrated suddenly, causing her to jolt. "Excuse me," she murmured. I nodded to her and she read something. "Oh, god," she chortled, smiling under the glow of the screen on her face.

"What?" I asked out of legitimate curiosity.

"My aunt is…being crazy," she said. She put her phone back and said, "If there isn't anything further, I need to get going and pick her up."

There was nothing else further, nothing else she came to discuss. I simply nodded and she got up, her new backpack slung over her shoulder. "Okay, see you later," she said politely. She opened the door and as she walked out, Madame Quincy slithered in. In one of her chipped manicured hands, she held a cigarette and in the other, a note with my seal. She slammed the door behind her and hissed, "More mechanical than mortal?"

I rolled my eyes. "I spent about as much time thinking that up as you spent instructing those ballet rats."

She slammed the note on the desk and put the cigarette out on top. "That's what I think of your notes, O-G!" she spat.

"Madame Quincy," I addressed her firmly. "You are not the only strong-willed starving dancer in the country and you may find if you do not obey me that you are not the best."

"Obey you?" she hissed. "I quit! See you on the front page, asswipe!"

I stood up before she could march out the door. "You will understand, then, why nobody in your position has ever quit before, then." I reached into my coat. In seconds, she was dead by the same hand of her great-great-great-great uncle, Ulbaldo Piangi, with no regrets and no consequences.