Mask of an Unknown Woman
After the disaster of at the Opera house, they had to leave. Of course, it was not ideal - But Madame Giry knew if she did not go with him, the chaos he would bring on Paris, perhaps even herself. So it was safer, naturally, to keep him closer. With it came sacrifice, the sacrifice of her well loved job at the Opera house, her memories - And her own daughter's job. Not that she forced her to go with her, No...Her Marguerite was strong willed, so much so she demanded she went with them; even if it meant living next to the fear of her youth. The Opera Ghost.
Smuggling him to Calais was of no real difficulty, his tricks in illusion and naturally gifts as a magician of sorts meant that they could pass without an eyebrow being raised. The alarm of the Opera House caused many such dancers from it leaving France all together. To see them both at the docks was not strange, it was expected. With fear, the people in Paris acted irrationally. Mobs intent on murder, the people dying for a story on the now infamous Ms Daae, hysteria and excitement. So hectic that perhaps it was best they left. Best they left all of the hurt behind.
They arrived in Ellis Island, Luckily for her and Meg, they were able to keep their names with little fuss, apart from Marguerite being changed to the more americanized "Megan", so common upon her tounge it made her sad to hear her daughter referred to as a simple "Megan", but it was a small sacrifice in what they were doing. The potential America gave them was more than worth the unfortunate change of name.
He was given an identity also; Eric York. He showed obvious distaste to the name but silently accepted it and took the documents they were given with little argument or fuss. They had a new chance, and strangely at Island no one made remarks of his disfigurement, some children stared at his mask and yet the "Masked Figure" was not glared at or suspected in the dock. He was simply overlooked, blended with the crowd like a common man. A blessing for Eric. Although Madame Giry knew it was a foolish error on the officials halves.
With the documentation in place, they were in New York. The hard bit was now beginning as they tried to scrape and save what little they had, their francs were worthless and the exchange (If they could find a place willing) was dreadful. The discrimination they faced in places to rest was also evident, their accent and obvious immigrant background meant the owners often charged more, just one look - A masked man, a silent, sickly looking girl and an older woman who looked widowed, who's eyes were sunken from the stress of the travels. They knew that the travellers had secrets and made them pay extra for the basic pleasures.
Pleasures..
Little Meg didn't want to think of that, for although their passing had been good their troubles were not over. No, for Meg they had only just begun. Like a knife it came to her, her Mother forcing her into the arms of rich men who had thick accents which she often struggled to understand as they spoke in slimey english, booze on their breath with a hint of tabbaco and more than enough of their hands over her body. It was a horrible way to be of use to Eric and her mother, but her Mother stressed it was required, that if she was favored by the men who were regular patrons at a local bar, then she would get noticed - She would have influence.
Which seemed to be her Mother's driving force. Influence, Power, Money. A Stark contrast to the Mother who's love was the arts. Now her love was woven into more frivolous things. The City of New York brought out their demons. For her, it was her vulnerability and her 'french alure', the stereotypes of french women and even more so a dancer was hindering, they expected something when they realised what she was and where she was from. For her mother it was a strange ambition she had never seen. A driving force that had only become present since they came here. For Eric, well...Even she did not know, for he was locked away in himself. Unmoving, she was sure he hadn't eaten since they arrived, but who could know such things of a man so secretive. If you could call him a man now.
A Carcus of a man, just the shell - No soul. Yes, Christine took that with her, all that remained was the mask. The man behind it had long since disappeared. But Meg's mother clung to the idea they would be rich by this man, this genius. But Meg believed he was a broken man, a man beyond repair. He needed fixing, a kind hand. A Softer touch than the one he had been dealt, and with every passing day, although silent was their communication and not even a glance shared, Meg felt something grow. An Understanding, for she had been in the background all those years too. Unheard, Not listened to. She was the same as him, and with that familiarity and sense of likeness - A softer place in her heart began to form for her once feared Opera Ghost and it was only for him.
The Month's passed with little development for them, although Madame Giry had managed to get a job as a Ballet teacher in a local performing arts school, New York was developing into a center of the arts, Madame Giry had no trouble finding employment with her line of work before her and her reputation enough to secure her a decent pay. Meg, meanwhile, was in a sort-of mutual relationship with an older man, Harold Roth. He was wealthy, but also suprising kind. He didn't use her for her body, but treated her like a doll of his, something to look after under the assumed relationship one would expect. Older as he was he had a kind soul, she suspected he used her as a substitute for a daughter, as odd as it may be, to have a girl society assumed to be a lover or a mistress and yet treat her platonicly like a child of his own, but she welcomed such an agreement, for there was no hurt - Only kindness and mutual friendship.
Eric, remained unmoved - Occasionally playing the Piano for meager Tips in the bar they were living above, no one asked of his mask; no one went near him in fact, they kept a distance unless it was to make a request of a song or two, offering tips and praise for his skills. To his disdain, many tried to make conversation. It simply annoyed him, it wasn't long before he gained the reputation of a loner, unsociable and mean. So, that's how it was until a day when one single poster changed their path.
A Sideshow.
Coney Island was in development mostly, just a patch on the ground compared to what Eric made it, but when they went it was only as Meg's "Lover", If Eric could use the word, had bought tickets for her as a gift. She wished to surprise her Mother and himself..What a surprise it was, to wander around a tent which hit too closely to his own path. To see it so close, he wished to run, feeling himself twist with unease at the entrance. Expecting to see the cruelty he had faced, to see the hurt and pain - The blood.
Yet, as they stepped through it was different. Proudly on display were these people, the creatures of the carnival, putting on their own individual shows to an awed crowd, Eric had seen the sights before, the gasps and the ooh's, but it was so soon how it could change to hecklers and anger. Torment and pain. Although he was accustomed to being looked at, his mask was naturally a source of attention. Not one person looked his way, not even for a second. No second glances, nothing. He blended in more than he ever had in his life. He seemed to just blur in with this surrounding..
The people gasped and Ooed, praised in wonder at the marvels they saw, their excitement obvious and their wish for more growing. Insatiable thirsts for the bizarre and new. They all had that same look in their eye. Madame Giry was silent for the entirety of their trip, the memory of saving the man beside her so many years ago ablaze in her mind. How she regretted and respected it. Such a conflict to love and loath a choice made by a child, one which saved a genius and condemned a young girl to his obsession. So torn as she walked at the spectacles around her. Seeing a look she had long thought was gone ablaze in Eric's eye as they walked among the sideshow, he seemed at ease, respecting each with their own individual different trait. Unique in their manners and strange. Yet he was enticed even more.
But what lay beyond a thick red velvet curtain changed everything. Shaped their path...Inspired him.
As they stepped through with the crowd, taking places in worn seats around a small oval in the center, the tent was larger in this section, the height considerably greater. Nearly at the top was a stretch of rope, tied to two posts and dangling dangerously high above the audience who surrounded the oval. Various acts performed, each unique and each seeming to relish in the attention their act brought. It was new and odd to Eric to see, yer a delight in its own as they all managed to be beautiful in their own manners, from the grotesque to the bizarre they all shined in the oval and brought the wonder to the Audience. The final act vanished into a curtain when a girl approached the center of the Stage, her presence, although a tiny figure - Like a child, she managed to make tension filled silence prevail over the excited audience. She stood, dressed in a beautiful bird-like costume, center stage and smiling with a twinkle in her eye; "Welcome to our sideshow, we hope you enjoyed the thrills. But, my friends our day is not complete - We have one more act that wish for you to meet.." She smiled, eyes shining as she softly began to sing;
"Dancing high, dangerous and glimmering, In the sky, way up high. Illusion's you've never seen, things beyond your wildest dreams. All of which not what is seems. Although you may wish to wonder why, Wondering how this woman tricks your eye, performing such dazzling tasks in the sky - Perhaps it is best that you do not ask, for the Siren above wears a mask.." And as she sung the final word, her hand pointed to the above rope, where suddenly a masked woman, dressed like a ballerina in a flowing cape stood, centered and seemingly on the tips of her toes.
Those around him gasped and Oo'd, but Eric was fascinated as the woman, silently moved on her toes on the rope, timid movements quickly turning into dangerous leaps and turns, she moved with the rope as it moved side by side, gracefully becoming one with it as she danced. But what was surprising was the sudden appearance of an object, as she was so high it was hard to distinguish until she placed it at her chin and the soft notes of a tune began to play out as she moved along the rope, dancing to the tune she played and yet some how managing to stay on the rope as the audience gasped, women looked away in horror of expecting a fall, even some men were pre-cringed, waiting for the drop as the tune played softly, her movements matching the gentleness of the song which seemed to move Eric more than he'd expect. The music awakening something which he thought dead. The Tune began changing, turning daring and suggesting her wobbling and falling, making the audience look away and gasp thinking she'd fall, until the tune picked up from it and she did fall, the cape surrounding her as she did, the gasps of the audience horrified as they watched, thinking she fell...Until the cape simply fell alone. No-one with it. Just the fluttering of material.
The song continued around them, growing louder and seeming to go near one ear and then disappearing into the other, travelling around the room and making the audience look for the source until she appeared, suddenly in the center, twirling in a seemingly never-ending spin, leaving them to wonder how she still managed to play, until with a flash, she vanished into the floor with a spark and began appearing around the room, various images of her appearing and disappearing, until they saw her again on the rope - for her to vanish and it turn out it was a reflection. Until various things, a whisper in one persons ear, sudden noise in the corner of a room, the audience on edge until the music went spiralling, and with it a figure spinning skillfully from a rope higher above the original until landing like an image in the center of the original rope, in the place she had previously been as if she was there all along, unharmed. The music ceased, but it wasn't over, for the masked woman looked up, her eyes only visible - A piercing blue set of eyes.
Although wearing a full face mask, eyes only thing visible, a pair of porcelain red lips representing her mouth, no smile or frown. Like Mona Lisa. She stood with the Violin, although not playing, a twisted, dark tune of strained notes played around them, growing louder and more dark, making people feel unsettled as her eyes seemed to stare at each person in the audience; until it stopped, and in one small movement the violin had gone from her hands completely - Within the blink of an eye they were empty.
She began to dance along the rope again, but as she did, each step brought more tension in the audience until a sound broke it; A voice.
A Beautiful voice from the masked woman, although her mouth was covered - The noise was not affected;
"Coney and glimmering..rising bright.." She then seemed to light up as she walked along the rope on her toes; her hands glowing brightly and causing Oohs and Aah's to be heard; her hands brightly flickering, like fire. "Drenched with light"..And with it the whole outer circle seemed to catch the same fire with one flick of her hand, causing a semi-circle of flame to spark with a dramatic flourish. "See it smile.." As she said smile she ran her hand against the impassive red lips of her mouth, and although far away the lips changed, changed so all of the audience could notice the sudden upturned corners of the red lips "Beckoning and shimmering" she lifted her arms, no longer did she hold they out at her sides like a balancing act, instead raising them above her head as she seemed to go en-pointe on the rope, making even Madame Giry flinch.
She then turned, gently turning as she went along the rope, beginning, even then to lift her leg as she turned, making the audience tense up again in anticipation of a fall.."All agleam..Like a dream" and then, as she said dream the music played again, drifting from ear to ear and returning to each, like the noise was leaving the room only to enter again. "Be careful of what you forsake" She then reached the end of the rope, making everyone ease as she stepped onto the other side, but then the fire in the room began to dim to a eery level, flickering dangerously and casting shadows "Consider your mental state.." the shadows of her figure seemed to move against the wall, doing gestures and dancing she did not do, her figure casting on various walls, each doing discrete movements that only certain people began to notice, they gasped and asked others if they saw, only to get confused looks and in turn feel nervous themselves.
Whispers then ran through the crowd, each to a different person, making them flinch and jump - wondering where it came from. As the woman on the rope appeared unmoving whilst the crowd got more on edge as the music continued to softly play around them, heightening their nervousness with its strange sound. The only person who seemed to watch her now was Eric, who knew the tricks well enough yet wondered at how she managed to pull them off so perfectly. Her gaze, those piercing eyes seemed to find his, locking onto his and staring for a moment until she finally sang in her enticing voice again; "Because Reality is hard to break.." the music seemed to fill peoples ears, growing twisted and almost sadistic until she sang the final line; "When you're really wide awake." And with it the room was set on fire, making flames appear around the audience in an overwhelming capacity, the music now playing faster as the flames grew until the figure of the girl grabbed the rope, which all appeared on fire with the room and dove into the air, causing some people to scream until it all suddenly stopped. Completely.
The room was dark and silence prevailed once again; until the sight of a scarlet red scarf fell from the air, seeming to be light up by nothing as it drifted to the floor and covered a violin which was in the center of the circle. No signs of fire remained as a few lights became light up as they had before the performance. It was over, leaving the audience clapping and sitting silently, on edge.
Wondering who the woman was..
Eric felt the same way. It was then that the plan went into motion. Eric wanted the sideshow and Madame Giry began to think of ways to profit from it, all they needed was the funding. Which came from Meg's "lover" Harold Roth, who was more than willing to allow Meg anything she desired. But, after the money was given and the purchase finalised, Meg was handed over to a friend of Roth's, like a doll to be exchanged. With the money came a sacrifice; she was now considered something to trade.
But Madame Giry was too focused on plans to realise what was happening, and Eric had other pressing matters on mind. His first, finding the 'Siren', he met each act of the sideshow personally, each he told to call him Mister 'Y', but through them all the woman he had intended to make the star had vanished. When he asked the bird-woman "Fleck", but it all had no leads until he searched himself, but it took years before he was able to. They had finally developed the sideshow, it had grown as a success and they were now on plans of building a giant spectacle of Coney Island, to be the center of it and home in on the tourism, all it needed was a name.
He had since forgotten of the fleeting muse which inspired his vision of the sideshow, until he found a passage under the land of the original sideshow that was soon to be apart of the main building. He took the wooden hatch, which he only discovered by a chance. Walking upon it as it had became exposed from the development of the land it was under, and lifted the hatch up and found a set of stairs leading to a narrow road which eventually led into a small crevence under the ground; a hidden room with modest furnishing.
As he entered a small room, he found it filled with sheet music, some with the development of beautiful tunes such as the one in the performance he saw, but others deranged scribbles and maddened scratches. Madness and genius all tangled into a mix of crazed beauty. tormented.
But it was all there was, many pieces of music, nothing to give him clue. Until he turned to see her mask, beautiful with a pale complexion like skin, beautiful red lips and perfect nose, the years had withered at the paint of the masks skin, dirt falling on it and creating an aged and decaying look to the masks. All beautiful details which now seemed dead. A mystery with only a lifeless mask to show for it, the only clue of the woman who inspired him to turn the Sideshow into something greater...
Yet as he took the mask in his hands, a small card fell onto the bed. Words were written upon it in red ink, cursive writing.
It was a word which seemed to surprise and yet please, the final piece for his development and yet another mystery to add to his ghostly muse. As the card which fell completed his plans and yet re-opened his own little mystery.
As he picked the card up, he read clearly the word in aged, faded red ink;
"Phantasma"