Chapter Two
By the third act of the opera, Erik had endured quite enough. Between Carlotta's dreadful singing and the patrons actually enjoying this disaster masquerading as art, he was feeling rather ill. He glanced at his programme and, seeing that the ballet was about to go on, decided he would attempt to swallow the awful gruel of a performance so he may get to the dessert.
Erik had always had a strange fascination with dance and ballet. The graceful, and delicate movements of the female figure, following in exact harmony with the strains of glorious music. To Erik, this was a marriage of that which he had mastery over, and that which had eluded him all his days: Music, and Woman. He would not deny the pleasure he derived from watching the beautiful ballet girls perform. But it was not in the way most others would think it. He enjoyed watching them simply for the beauty of the female form, the perfection of a woman's body, moving in such a free and elegant way.
Erik's boredom soon gave way to some enjoyment, as the ballet girls entered and began their routine. He watched as their legs moved in perfect synchronous with the orchestra, every movement of an arm after the sweep of a bow. All except one. One girl, in the back of the group, was moving out of time, struggling to stay with the rest of her group. Erik's curiosity was instantly aroused. He tried to see who this girl was, as he did not recognize her. He reasoned she was new, given her current performance. Still, she attempted to cover her mistakes, desperately trying to put on a mask of confidence, and it was working...until she fell.
She sat on the stage for a moment, the rest of the ballet girls continuing the routine as if nothing had happened, and time seemed to slow. As her head rose, she brushed her long, brown hair from her face. And then she looked up, toward the box where the Phantom of the Opera sat, transfixed. For Erik was gazing upon the face of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a face that seemed sculpted by the finest stonemasons in the world, her flowing hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. But what truly held the Phantom's gaze were her eyes, eyes of the deepest blue, dark and alluring as the night. They were slightly red from the tears she could no longer hold back, and then they squinted slightly...
Erik was so lost in this strange girl's beauty that he hardly realized that she was returning his stare. He frantically swept his cape around him, blending completely with the shadows of the box, saw the girl's gaze linger for a moment, and then she rushed offstage with the rest of the ballet girls. Erik lowered his cape, fastening it around his neck. What was the matter with him?! He was nearly seen, he could have spoiled everything and for what!? The end of that question resonated in the Phantom's mind... for what? The opera ghost pulled the candelabra on the wall, a satisfying click notifying him that his escape route was now accessible. Erik pushed the wall open, closed it behind him, and sunk back into the blackness of the opera house, the girl's eyes following him into the dark.