On a blistering cold winter's evening, I arrived at The Metropolitan Opera House two hours early, longing to anonymously catch a glimpse of Jenna. The lights were dimmed and a spotlight was shining center stage. There she stood with her deep-seated and seductive eyes piercing the souls of the audience she held captive with her melodious soprano voice. A colorful painted face shaped the strong character that defined the iniquity of her stage persona. She now called herself Carmelita and had dyed her hair a snow white color. I had secretly followed her career from the day she left me. The theater was packed with on-lookers dressed in formal attire who had all paid a sizable ticket price to see her perform Wicked Love. The drama tells the story of a woman who finds pleasure in casting spells over her love interest. “I hear this is her last performance,” the lady seated on my left whispered. “Oh yeah?” “Yes, rumor has it that she has actually met someone who has her spellbound.” My heart stopped. I felt sick. The music continued, reaching a climactic feverish pitch. Jenna started to sing her final song of the evening. "You belong to me, look into my eyes, and follow your heart’s desire. Oh oooh, I am your wicked lover,” was the refrain she repeated. Jenna bowed to a standing ovation and chants of “Encore, encore,” erupted. There was a curtain call, then she stepped forward and spoke. “Over the past three years, you have known me as Carmelita, but my real name is Jenna Collins. Tonight is my last operatic performance. After much soul-searching, I have come to realize that my heart’s desire is with Evan, my devoted husband. He is my better half and I am wickedly in love with him.”
I hope you enjoyed this short story that I penned using the art prompt created by artist @vermillionfox in the Foxtales Week 27 Writing Contest.
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