Nadir reached out towards his friend. They had known each other for nearly thirty years, and yet neither of them knew much about the other. Nadir certainly hadn't known about Erik's home, deep within the cellars of the Paris Opera House, and his obsessive love for the chorus girl Christine Daae.
Now Erik sat before him, as in old times, but he was a much changed and different Erik. Nadir harshly told him about Joseph Bouquet, "Do you think I don't recognize your trademark? How did you ever expect to get away with it? Or were you not thinking, lost within some opium-induced fog?" He suddenly jumped up and grabbed Erik's sleeves, pulling back his jacket and shirt to reveal many small pin-pricks and Erik's collapsed veins.
"Oh, Allah! I see now that allowing you to live I have condemned you as well."
Erik gruffly pulled down his sleeves and seethed, "You have no right to interfere in my life. What happened to Joseph Buquet was an accident!" Nadir pointed at Erik's arms and told him, "But this! This is no accident Erik. You choose to be addicted. What is it exactly? Heroin, Morphine?"
Erik glanced at the clock and began to stand. "It is late. I must leave." He began to walk away but Nadir stood and shouted at Erik, "Go back to the Opera! Go and squander your talents as a miserable ghost! But if there is one more death, just one, then I shall tell the authorities everything I know! You have wasted yourself, and I have no control over that, but remember Erik, I am still your conscious!" Erik turned to look at Nadir.
His words had stung, indeed, what Nadir spoke was truth. Erik had spent nearly fifteen years of his life working upon the Opera, but rather than reap the rewards as Charles had, Erik had walled himself up away from reality, killing himself slowly with solitude and morphine. How could Christine ever love a man such as him? A miserable, old fool, a murderer and drug addict, and a deceitful liar. Nadir crossed his arms as Darius came to see what the shouting was for.
Erik waved his hand in dismissal and Darius skittered away. He walked menacingly towards Nadir, but the man held his ground. Nadir was the only man who had ever dared stand up to Erik, while other's crumbled beneath him. Even the Shah had been entwined around Erik's finger. He asked Nadir, "Why do you even care?" Nadir replied solemnly, "You once were a great man, destined for great things. I admire you, I enjoy your company, and also, I fear for others who come into contact with you."
Erik glared at Nadir, and the old man glared back. "Joseph, was the only one. Ever since I left Persia, he was the only, accident." Erik confessed. Nadir nodded. "I believe you Erik." He said. Erik broke his eye contact and looked at the ground. "The thing, that saved me, was the drugs. Without them, I felt lost, confused. Morphine is a vice that delivers me from greater sin."
Nadir nodded his head no. He told Erik seriously, "Drugs are an escape, a form of altered reality. They do not save you, only you can save yourself." Erik looked back up at Nadir and said coldly, "Who really gives a damn?" He turned again, but Nadir whispered, "Christine."
Erik stopped. His angel, his muse and inspiration. That smile of devotion when he sang for her, those tender curls of her hair. He whispered as well, "Christine." He walked towards the door, but told Nadir, "You have always been my friend Nadir. An irritating, over-protective presence, but always my friend. I suppose from now on you'll be watching me like a hawk. I have only one request. You keep your mouth shut!"
With that Erik slammed the door shut and left Nadir's home. A few minutes later the door opened and Nadir stepped out, clutching a small notebook and a pen. Erik fumed as he walked home. He had been quite content by himself, with only Ayesha as company. He had an extensive power over the Opera House, and a beautiful prodigy with the voice of a nightingale.
Yet now, that irritating bug Nadir had come creeping back, crawling along his skin. He could never be alone now, he knew Nadir would follow him everywhere. Their conversation hung in Erik's mind, the truth of the matter coming into light. Erik was not actually happy, living alone with his addiction.
All his life he had just wanted to fit in, to have a normal, typical life like everyone else. Instead he was forced into hiding, deceiving the only woman who had ever shown him a bit of compassion. Erik walked along the halls to his home, mourning his deceit towards Christine. By the time he had reached the lake, his mind was set.
If he ever wanted a normal relationship with Christine, he would have to quit. Not just his drug addiction, but his lies and treachery. He would have to come out into the light, to reveal himself to her warm embrace. Of course, would Christine even accept him once she found out? Would she come willingly, or would his frightening visage make her run screaming into the arms of that boy, Raoul?
Drugs, murder, lies, these were nothing compared to Erik's face, the one barrier that stood between him and the world above. He could do something about the first three, but the last, was impossible. Indeed, he was going to do something about those first three, and work upon the last.
As he came to the peir of his home, he screamed into the distance. "Go Home Nadir!"