Cover photo used is not mine but muirin007's lovely artwork, please check out her dA account.
Erik released a heavy sigh, leaning back. Yet another independent session of composing. During these perpetual moments, the Opera Ghost lived and breathed music, nothing else existed or mattered. Erik wasn't even sure how much time had passed, it could have been hours, it could have been a few days.
His arms fell limp at his side, savouring the feeling of accomplishment before him on the sheet music.
Standing, Erik rolled his shoulders back, his joints clicking and cracking as he did so. It had certainly been more than a few hours of composing his work. Walking through the parlour he retrieved a finely aged bottle he'd taken from the fifth cellar. Unstoppering the cork, the manic artist poured the wine. Settling in his throne like chair, Erik breathed with a sigh of relief.
As he sipped the wine, the Phantom couldn't help but notice something missing. Normally, during these small moments of tranquil piece after composing, Erik was greeted to the mews of his little lady seeking out his attention. Usually Ayesha was asking for food, or his affection after such periods of neglect. But neither was present as the Opera Ghost's feline was nowhere to be seen.
"Hmm," Erik mused. Setting down his glass and rising from his throne, he walked down to his room. Sometimes Ayesha liked to lounge in his coffin when he was not present. But his mismatch coloured eyes scanned the room and saw no sign of her, neither was she in the Louis Phillipe room.
"Where could you have gone my sweet?" Erik pondered aloud.
As it happened, it was late in the evening as Erik returned to reality. The night life of Paris still young, the Opera Populaire had completed dress rehearsal for the production of Carmen.
The leads had already been dismissed for the evening, leaving the chorus and stage hands last to leave. The corps du ballet girls scampered back to the dormitories after Madame Giry had ended today's practice. The young girls giggled and gossiped amongst themselves.
"It was outrageous!" Marie jeered.
"You could see her ankles showing!" Jammes giggled.
Meg blushed, "That must be a rumour. Surely Genevieve wouldn't."
"But she did! I saw it when she and Marshall left together."
As the group of tutu clad girls climbed the stairs, a noise met their ears.
"What is that?" Meg asked.
"Could it be the ghost?" Jammes questioned, as the very mention of the Phantom caused the chorus girls to shiver fearfully.
Adele sighed, "Honestly Jammes. Not every bump in the night is the ghost."
But as the older ballerina said this they heard a crash in the dormitory just up the stairs. Jammes gasped as Meg's eyes widened in panic.
"It's the Phantom!" The blonde dancer shrieked.
The girls stood frozen on the spot listening for anything more after the crash. But after a few minutes they hadn't heard a sound.
"Should we go in?" One of them asked.
"But what if it is the ghost?" Meg asked fearfully, "He might be angry."
"Well we can't just stand out on the stairwell all night, ghost or no ghost!"
"Jammes, why don't you go first. You go on and on about the Phantom, maybe he likes you." Adele smirked as the younger ballerina froze.
"M-Me? But, but I-" She shook her head frantically. "What about you Meg? You said you're mother keeps box five empty for him. Surely the ghost wouldn't harm his boxkeeper's daughter?"
Meg fidgeted uncomfortably as she took a nervous step up the stairs, her ballet slippers not making a noise. Slowly she reached out to open the door as the girls watched in fear. The door creaked open as Meg looked around sheepishly before going inside.
"Awww!" They heard the blonde squeal.
The girls shrieked, but calmed as they saw Meg's head pop up in the door frame.
"It's okay! Come up, there's no ghost here." She smiled down at them.
The other cautiously followed to see Meg crouched, hunched over something.
"You're so pretty!" She happily said, "What's you name?"
The others walked over to where Meg crouched over a sleek haired Siamese cat. The feline wore a sophisticating collar around her neck, encrusted with fine jewels. Her coat was well groomed and her fur silky to the touch.
"Aw, a kitty!" Jammes smiled, as the other girls swooned over Ayesha.
"It's so beautiful!"
"She must be lost, pauvere petit chat."
"What a pretty collar," Meg said, "Who do you think she belongs to?"
"Those jewels look real, maybe she's Carlotta's?"
"No, I heard she hates cats. She must be one of the patrons." Jammes remarked
The ballerina tried to reach out and pet Ayesha's back. But as she reached out Ayesha's pale blue eyes narrowed, the cat's ears going flat against her head as a low warning growl rose in her throat.
"M-Maybe that's not a good idea," Meg stammered as Jammes pulled her hand away.
Suddenly Ayesha leapt from her sitting position and darted out the dormitory door with haste.
The day before as her masked master was performing, the Siamese had grown bored not receiving the attention he instead focused on the pipe organ. Erik hadn't even realised she'd left as Ayesha clung to the walls, slipping into a small crevice incidentally leading up to the surface.
Wandering aimlessly, Ayesha mewed. Already the opera house was like a maze for a newcomer, all the more for a small cat.
The felines hair stood on end as she heard a scream.
"Ugh! Shoo!" Carlotta screeched, lifting the skirts of her dress as if she were walking mud. Ayesha's ears went flat against her skull and her tiny fangs out as she let out a hiss.
"Shoo little beast!" The diva scowled at the cat. But as she tried to scoot the angry animal away Ayesha swatted at her, the Siamese claws caught on Carlotta's dress.
"Ugh! Stop it! You're ruining my dress!" The Prima Donna screeched, hearing the tearing of fabric. A red piece of Carlotta's dress still stuck to Ayesha's paw as the diva stormed off muttering some choice words in Italian.
Ayesha growled, her tail twitching angrily as she chewed off the fabric. Freeing herself of the dressing, Ayesha continued to wander. Then, her ears perked up hearing something. Scampering toward the noise Ayesha continued to mew looking for the familiar source.
Ayesha came to an ajar door, light seeping through the crack. The cat slipped into the room where only one person resided.
Christine hummed to herself in the chapel, lighting a candle for her father. She had called for her angel, but Erik would not answer. She had sung for him, hoping he would hear her. But still Erik did not answer her. This happened from time to time, and they didn't have a lesson set up for tonight. But still it saddened her.
"Meow!" Ayesha mewed loudly.
Christine turned to see the Siamese staring back at her. The young soprano stiffened as the cat's tail twitched. She remembered Ayesha. When Erik had taken her down to the house by the lake, she noticed the Siamese lounged on his sofa in the parlour. The feline seemed to only have a liking to her masked maestro. Every time she tried to hold or so much as touch Ayesha she hissed and growled. And Erik treated the cat like a goddess, scooping up the feline in his arms mumbling to her sweetly. It made Christine smile, the sight was albeit adorable to see the Phantom of the Opera cuddling a kitten.
But while Ayesha loved her master, she didn't care to show Christine the same level of affection. The brunette watched the cat slink closer, she didn't move a muscle.
"What are you doing here?" She asked curiously, not even sure how she got out. "Is Erik here?"
At the mention of him, the ears turned upward as she mewed.
"Erik wouldn't let you wander around by yourself." Christine mused, hesitantly she reached a hand out. The Siamese growled low in her throat, but surprisingly did nothing feeling the girl's hand pet her back.
Christine reached down, despite hearing the growling protest.
"Hey," She mumbled. "Don't be like that, don't you want to see him?"
She continued to stroke Ayesha's fur. The cat's growling subsided, but Christine didn't want to step outside her boundaries too much.
Leaving the chapel, Christine crept through the empty halls toward the outer gate. If Erik were still underground he would hear someone triggering the entrance to the Rue Scribe passage.
Closing the gate behind her, Christine waited. She was scared to venture further alone, as he'd told her previously that he had mechanisms, traps set in place to ward off intruders to his lair.
"Good evening mon ange," She heard the Opera Ghost's voice. Looking around for him in the dark passage, Christine squinted her eyes in the darkness. Erik came into view, seeming to come out of nowhere from the black passage.
"Hello Erik," Christine smiled. "I think you lost something."
At the sight of the masked man, Ayesha squirmed in Christine's arms.
"Ah, you've found my little lady." Erik sighed,
"Seems she wanted to go exploring." She said, handing over the cat before Ayesha sunk her claws into Christine's arm.
Instantly Ayesha's chest rumbled as she purred, rubbing her head along Erik's chest. "Quite the sneaky creature you are, my sweet."
Christine stifled a giggle at the sight. Erik glanced up from Ayesha to his pupil.
"Thank you my dear for fetching her for me," He nodded. "I trust you will be ready for our next lesson?"
"Of course," She nodded.
"Splendid. Now Christine, as much I do enjoy your company, I must see to getting a certain someone back home."
Christine smiled watching Erik slink back into the shadows, a happily mewing Ayesha in his arms.