Chapter75-The Viscount's Dilemma 2

Braden's POV
The library had transformed under Dorian's exacting direction. He'd arranged the furniture to create a performance area, adjusted the lighting, and set up a small recording station.
"I believe we should begin with 'All I Ask of You,'" he announced as I entered. "It's your pivotal moment—Raoul's declaration of both love and protection. The audience must believe he's a genuine alternative to the Phantom."
"Agreed." I set my annotated score on the piano. "Is Nadia joining us?"
"She'll be here momentarily. She's vocalizing."
I nodded, running my fingers over the piano keys. The baby grand responded beautifully, its rich tones filling the space. I'd purchased it when I first bought the brownstone, envisioning musical evenings with friends. I hadn't anticipated it would become central to rehearsals for the West End.
"You seem different today," Dorian observed. "More focused."
"I've found my angle on Raoul," I replied simply.
"The supportive viscount who values Christine's artistry."
"Exactly. It makes his love more meaningful—he's not just offering rescue, but partnership. He sees her completely."
We were interrupted by Nadia's arrival. She'd changed into a simple dress, her hair pulled back to keep it from her face during singing.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I got caught up working on the cadenza for 'Think of Me.'"
"No apology necessary," Dorian assured her. "We're focusing on Braden's Raoul today. He's had a revelatory morning."
Nadia's eyes found mine, curious and encouraging. "Oh?"
"I've reconsidered Raoul's function in the story," I explained. "He's not just the conventional alternative to the Phantom. He's offering Christine a future where she doesn't have to choose between love and artistic fulfillment."
"I like that," she said, moving closer. "It gives their relationship more substance. And it makes her choice more meaningful—she's not just choosing safety, but a love that respects her autonomy."
"Shall we explore this through the music?" Dorian suggested, taking his place at the piano. "I'll accompany."
I positioned myself opposite Nadia, conscious of the space between us. In the year since she'd moved in, our relationship had evolved in ways I couldn't have predicted. What began as a pretense—a fake relationship to convince my parents I wasn't gay—had developed genuine depth. Not conventional romance, perhaps, but something equally meaningful.
Dorian began the introduction to "All I Ask of You." I took a breath, centering myself in Raoul's perspective—a man offering not just his heart, but his vision of a future where love and artistry could coexist.
When I began to sing, I found the character's voice with unexpected ease. The lyrics about protection and freedom from darkness took on new meaning through my reframed understanding. This wasn't about rescuing a damsel; it was about offering partnership to a woman whose gifts deserved to flourish.
Nadia's response flowed naturally. Her soprano wrapped around my tenor, creating harmony that felt effortless. As we moved through the duet, I found myself physically drawn closer to her, our performance becoming increasingly intimate. By the climactic notes, we stood mere inches apart, the boundary between performance and genuine emotion blurring.
When the final notes faded, we remained in that charged space for several heartbeats. I became acutely aware of Dorian watching us, his expression thoughtful, perhaps slightly wistful.
"Well," he said after a moment. "I believe you've found your Raoul, Braden."
I stepped back, returning to professional distance. "It felt right."
"It was beautiful," Nadia said softly. "Different from yesterday."
"Indeed," Dorian agreed. "There was an authenticity to it—a conviction beneath the technical proficiency." He closed the piano lid. "The audition panel will be quite convinced."
"Thank you." I felt strangely vulnerable, as if I'd revealed more of myself than intended. "Shall we work on 'Think of Me' next?"
"Actually," Dorian said, checking his watch, "I promised to help Ryan prepare for his interview. He texted asking for assistance."
"Go ahead," I encouraged. "Nadia and I can continue working."
Dorian glanced between us, something knowing in his gaze. "I'm sure you can. Don't strain your voices—we have a long week ahead."
After he left, a curious silence descended. Nadia moved to the window, looking out at the garden. I remained by the piano, fingers resting on the closed lid.
"Do you ever wonder," she asked without turning, "how we ended up here? A year ago, I was sharing that awful apartment in Queens, working retail, wondering if I'd ever get a real break. Now I'm auditioning for Christine Daaé on the West End."
"Life can change quickly in theater," I replied. "That's part of its magic. And its terror."
She turned to face me, the light haloing her figure. "It's not just the career opportunities. It's... this. All of us. This strange, wonderful thing we've created. Sometimes I wake up and can't believe it's real."
"I know what you mean." I moved away from the piano, joining her by the window. "When I suggested that bizarre arrangement—Braden needs a fake girlfriend, Ryan wants a sex partner, Andy seeks romance, Dorian desires friendship—I never imagined it would evolve into something so significant."
"And now we're potentially moving to London. At least, three of us are. With Ryan possibly joining. Leaving Andy behind."
The thought created a hollow feeling in my chest. "It's not ideal."
"No," she agreed. "But neither is passing on the opportunity."
"Life rarely offers perfect solutions. We adapt."
"Like Raoul," she said with a small smile. "Finding unconventional paths forward."
The parallel hadn't occurred to me, but she was right. My newfound understanding of Raoul mirrored our own situation—navigating uncharted territory, creating new models for relationship, defying conventional expectations.
Nadia reached for my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Shall we try 'Think of Me' now? I'd like to see this new Raoul's reaction to Christine's debut performance."
I squeezed her hand gently before releasing it to return to the piano. "Let's do it."
As I positioned my fingers on the keys, I felt alignment I hadn't experienced before—between myself and Raoul, between my artistic and personal lives, between performance and truth. Whatever happened in London, this process had already given me something valuable: a clearer understanding of myself.
I began the introduction, watching Nadia transform before my eyes into Christine—the chorus girl discovering her voice, stepping into her power. My role was to witness her, to recognize her brilliance, to offer a future where that brilliance could flourish.
Not so different, I realized, from what I'd been doing all along.