The Phantom Of The Opera Don Juan の小説・ストーリー

A small table lay in front of them filled with small snacks and beverages as per Ruby's request even though foods and liquids are banned from the theater however there's barely anything here that money can't solve. "So this play is called the Phantom of the Opera and this rising singer Marcel is supposed to play the part of this so-called 'Phantom'. The story is foreign to me. Is it newly written?" asked Ruby as she flipped through the pamphlet a theater staff had handed to her. "The story and the plot are also unknown to me but as long as Marcel plays it I know it will be wonderful." Carmilla replied fondly. "You seem awfully taken by Marcel's... talents. Should I be worried?" Ruby jokingly

Why do I long for its presentation to the world? As is your girl,” I reply. “ Deaton said that fantasies and staring into space are extraordinary devices for remembering,” Mac says in a voice. This resembles phantom appendix disorder. Melido and Juana are such a significant piece of our lives that our minds go like... Like they're still here,” the tracker finishes for my brother. Juana 's voice ," I dare to say, ending the heavy tranquility that fell on us once more; Mr. Jorge dismasted me inquisitively. Two minutes before he showed up, we paid attention to him, I guarantee you.

"Whatever. Go tell the Don so she can stop putting on this show." Then the familiar scent of his cologne cut through the smoke. A hand struck my cheek, hard enough to sting. Enzo's flat but faintly amused voice followed. "Sophia Vitale. Wake up. Cut the act. I'm here. You were pretty capable when you blew up the armory. So what's this now? Playing pitiful?" I wanted to explain and beg. A broken, rattling sound escaped instead. The pain in my abdomen felt as if it were tearing me apart from the inside.

The old man said this earnestly while staring straight into my eyes. I don't understand, but the way Don Juancho stressed my name gave me a strange feeling. I know I might be being paranoid, but why do I suddenly feel so uneasy and jittery? I was sure the old man knew my parents had twin daughters and Mom assured me he had no idea which of us was to marry his grandson. She said Don Juancho was aware their other daughter, who was me, had been abroad for years, and that the daughter in their care, who was Maria Alexandra, was the one betrothed to his grandson. But when he said my full name so precisely, I suddenly felt chills, as if he knew who I really am.

Not before that. Juan felt insulted, when a few people around them laughed at him. He glared at Nero. "I know you killed my father. Remember that I won't leave you. I will kill you" Juan threatened to make it look like, he is not intimidated by Nero. Alessandro laughed at that threat. "You made a mistake" he said pointing at Juan. Juan frowned at that statement. "Are you trying to scare me?" Juan asked Alessandro. Alessandro looked at Juan and shook his head.

I stared at Amber really well and it sounded like he was in so much pain. "Well that's all in the past now, today I'm a serial killer", he said sounding normal again. My hands went to his cheek, "Are you happy being this person that you are?", I asked. He wrestled with his words for a long time, "I don't have a choice Lexy, there's no going back for me, I'm already in this and there's nothing I can do to stop this", he said in a painful whisper. Who would have known that the dangerous Don was in love with dogs.

I stood still and continued to assume it was one of his usual pranks. His gaze from his grey eyes wasn't piercing as usual; they didn't cause anxiety, and neither did they show care. They exuded something different. “I…” he started but didn't get the chance to finish. “What the hell is going on here?” The person called out with authority and we both turned. Is Don Antonio a twin? From the way he sounded, I knew it was Don Antonio. I quickly stepped away. I took hurried footsteps towards Don Antonio and his twin called. “Giulia, I'm not done with you yet. I didn't ask you to leave.” His voice was louder this time.

The kind only men in our world could afford to have before handling a serious matter. The moment I stepped inside Don Juarez’s hacienda, I felt like I’d wandered into a telenovela fever dream. It was over the top, gaudy, and so painfully self-aware it almost became impressive. The heavy scent of orange blossom cologne mixed with cigars and the rich breath of old whiskey hit me like a wall. Don Nero clicked his tongue beside me. “You need a new architect, Juarez. Your house looks like someone binge-watched soap operas during a cocaine high.”He commented.

His mother used to say that Romani men are born with frowns carved into their faces. Luca proved her wrong. He smiled once. Years ago. Before the fire. Before the woman. Anne. Nico has heard the stories. The maid who crawled into Luca's bed. The whore who stole from him. The ghost who died in a fire that no one saw and no one could explain. He has never believed them. Not because he is loyal. Because he knows his cousin. Luca doesn't fall for whores. He doesn't fall for anyone. Except her. He saw it in Luca's eyes, before everything burned. The way he looked at her — like she was the only thing in the world that wasn't pretending.